Protect Me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours 2)

He for damned sure needed to get laid. He hadn’t had any kind of intimate relations with any woman since starting this assignment. Which could be why he was suddenly seeing his fucking principal as a sexual being.

Not cool.

He cast his eyes around the room, keeping his gaze away from the woman still passed out cold on the bed.

The sickening pink plastered on the walls and scattered throughout the furnishings was the reality check he needed.

Victoria Hollingsworth was a pampered princess. She was in his world only because it was his job to ensure her safety. Theirs had always been a strictly professional relationship and so it would remain.

This rogue attraction was merely the result of exhaustion, sexual deprivation, and momentary mental weakness. He took a step back and found his feet still entangled in the stupid drapery. He kicked irritably and winced when he heard a tearing sound as the delicate fabric ripped beneath his hard-soled boot.

“Motherfucker!”

Could tonight get any more preposterous?

“What’s happening?” Vicki’s groggy voice sounded into the silence, and he bit back a curse word.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“Thirsty.”

He inhaled deeply, praying for patience, before reaching for the water bottle on her bedside table. “Drink.”

She pushed herself up on wobbly arms, and his jacket dropped to her waist. Her top was, fortunately, a lot more modest than the tiny skirt she wore. A sequined t-shirt. One of those that changed color when you stroked it in different directions. Purple one way and—of course—pink the other. She had been like an adorable disco ball all evening, bright and shiny and vibrant. Spinning round like an effervescent top wherever they went.

She was usually animated and cheerful but tonight she had been luminescent. Glowing both inside and out.

In stark contrast, right now, she looked limp and dull.

She lifted the water bottle with a shaking hand and managed a few sips before grimacing and gingerly lowering herself back down onto the bed.

She looked at him with trusting eyes.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I always make things so hard for you.”

What the hell was this now?

“You’re not dying,” Ty informed her, bluntly, and she looked mystified by that response.

What? Vicki was confused by Tyler’s words. She felt terrible. Ill, and embarrassed by the bits and pieces she could recollect about the latter part of the evening. She wasn’t sure how, or when, she had gotten home…but she’d been unsurprised to open her eyes and find Tyler watching over her. Making sure she was safe, just like he always did.

And in a rare moment of honesty, she had found herself apologizing for always being such a pain in the bum to him.

But his reply had perplexed her. Why did he have to be so cryptic? He rarely spoke but when he did it was always something annoying or unexpected.

“I don’t understand,” she admitted. He thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“You may feel like hell, but you’re not dying, so there’s no need for deathbed apologies and confessionals.”

“That’s not why…Ugh. Never mind.” She shook her head. The moment had passed, her head was pounding and she felt queasy. Oh, no, had she thrown up in front of him earlier? She felt like she must have. But she couldn’t quite remember. Thank God.

“You’ll feel better after some sleep.”

She nodded, the movement sluggish, and closed her eyes. She wriggled to get comfortable beneath the warm covering that smelled like Tyler. Why did her quilt smell like him? Sandalwood and pinecones. His scent always reminded her of crisp winter mornings. She usually only caught whiffs of it, but now she felt enveloped by it. And it was comforting. This was how she imagined being held by him would feel.

She sighed contentedly and snuggled down.

But her head jerked up in panic when she sensed him moving toward the door.

“Don’t leave…” Why did she want him to stay? Usually, she couldn’t wait to be rid of him and enjoy a bit of freedom. “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Where’s your brother?” His voice was gruff. Terse. So like him. Granite covered in slate.

“On a couple’s retreat with New Guy.” She hazily reminded herself to start calling New Guy by his given name, since he had made it past the third month with Hugh. Always a reliable indication that this one was going to be serious.

“Nobody briefed me.” Ooh, Tyler sounded displeased. She guessed someone was going to have their ass handed to them in the morning. He was kind of anal retentive about having “all the facts”.

“Spur of the moment thing. He told me about it just before I met up with Bells. Oh, God, why did I have tequila?” she groaned, and he continued to stare at her with that maddening inscrutable expression he always wore on his too-handsome face. It irritated her no end…but she couldn’t summon up the energy to be more than distantly aggravated by it right now.