Under His Protection (Protect and Defend 1)

She refused to talk to Mason beyond the cursory polite comments or telling him her plans for the day when he asked. It was easier that way. Supposedly.

Mason had come with her to lunch, always her shadow. Lurking outside the cafe, he’d kept watch on her, though he wasn’t as obvious as last time. He’d eventually ordered a sandwich and sat on the patio, close enough that she could see him. Suzanne had never questioned it and Blake had felt the need to make up a story about paranoid parents and a bodyguard.

/> It was as close to the truth as she could get.

They’d kept a certain distance, she and Mason, both physical and emotional, and she’d grown somewhat used to it. They went about their business, Mason spending most of his day in the smaller cabin working if Blake stayed home. If she went out, he followed.

“Things are going well here. Numbers are up and support is strong,” her dad said, tearing Blake from her thoughts.

“That’s great.” She should care, really she should. But she’d become numb to it all. He’d been absent practically her entire life and she’d grown used to it. This election was more important to him than anything else.

Certainly more important than his family, she knew this from personal experience.

“I’d like you to be back here on Election Day, preferably the night before.” His voice lowered and he sounded almost pained. “It would please me to have your support, Blake.”

Tears threatened and she swallowed hard, refusing to cry. Crying got her nowhere in front of this man. It usually made him angrier, frustrated, whatever. Tears never got a positive reaction. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll be there.”

“Perfect. It’ll look good, surrounded by my beautiful wife and daughter, a nice photo op for the various media that’ll be in attendance. You know how much they love those.”

Right. That’s all she was useful for, a photo op. Well, unless she got snapped in a bikini. Then she became a photo disaster.

“I have to go,” she choked out, hardly able to speak. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she let it, didn’t bother wiping it away. As if she wanted to feel that tear burn into her heated skin. “Bye.”

Blake hung up, barely hearing her father’s goodbye. She set the phone carefully on the end table and perched on the edge of the couch, clutching her knees so tight, her knuckles went white.

She felt like a useless little princess set up high in the castle tower. Only brought out when necessary, for appearance’s sake, and then banished to a remote island for bad behavior. Like she was some sort of criminal.

It didn’t matter how much she loved Whitney Island, how she despised the hustle and bustle and constant speculation she dealt with in DC. It still hurt that he shipped her out here, not caring about what she wanted to do.

But at least here on the island, she could be herself and not worry what others thought.

Well, with the exception of Mason. She constantly worried over what he thought about her. Not that he cared a whit for her beyond the, “I work for you and I must protect you” mode. Idiot. Blind, stubborn idiot. He drove her crazy.

A knock sounded on the front door and then he appeared, as if conjured up from her imagination. His gaze met hers, his eyes widening in surprise when he took in her woeful state. Slamming the door behind him, his long strides ate up the floor as he approached. He stopped short, just in front of her, his gaze lingering on her face. “Are you all right?”

Blake wiped at the tears streaking down her face with the back of her hand, sniffing loudly. She sounded like a little kid, but she didn’t care. No one took her seriously anyway, so what was the point?

Oh, my. Sometimes a pity party was just what a girl needed.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” She hiccupped, not even trying to get her crying under control. “What do you want?”

Mason paused, studying her, gauging the entire situation. His agent mindset was at work, she could practically see the cogs turning in his brain. She waited impatiently for his reply.

“I wanted to check in,” he said carefully. “See if you have plans tomorrow. I have a conference call at ten.”

She shook her head, pushed her hair from her shoulder. “I’m staying home.”

“Not seeing your friend?” His lips tightened. He didn’t like Suzanne, why, she wasn’t sure.

“We’re getting together Friday.” At least she had something to look forward to.

He didn’t move and she gazed up at him. He frowned, his eyes darkening. “You’re crying.”

She wiped at yet another tear, taking a deep breath. She needed to get a grip, needed to control herself in front of this man. “I’m fine, really.” She smiled but it was tremulous at best.

Mason crouched before her, so close she could make out the gold flecks in his green eyes, the thick, dark lashes that surrounded them. Those eyes were downright girly, would’ve give him a feminine cast if not for the raw masculine bone structure of his face. The harsh lines of his cheekbones, the strong, stubborn jaw and the slightly crooked nose that he must’ve broken before, his features were so dear to her.

“You never cry. What upset you?” he asked.