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She let out a soft laugh, but she didn’t remove her hand. She tucked her bare feet under her—when had she taken her shoes off?—and leaned across the console, putting her other hand on his forearm and using the same sweet, torturous pressure on his arm that she was exerting on his neck and into his hair.
Ike could stride into a battle, assess, and take out the enemy’s linchpin without showing any hesitation or fear. He could fight three men at once and almost always win. He could run miles in battle fatigues without tiring or getting discouraged. But he had no clue how to drive straight while cataloguing and experiencing these sensations with Myra.
Drive straight. He was struggling to drive straight in a top of its class sport utility that basically drove itself. How was he going to be on guard, observant, and keep their charge safe while pretending to be Myra’s boyfriend? His time as Myra’s boyfriend would be in the privacy of Beau’s home, not out in situations that would require all his senses, focus, and attention. That would help. Maybe.
He had been engaged to be married and had never felt anything like this before. Was Myra’s touch unique to him or did she simply have the most enticing fingers and hands in the world? She probably did this to all the men she dated before she broke their hearts and moved on. Poor suckers.
If she said no to all the other bodyguards, who did she date? Charming flirts? If he wasn’t her type, that had to be who she chose to date.
Sadly, he’d be a poor sucker soon. She was toying with him.
No. She wasn’t toying with him; she was doing this for the job. She wanted Ike to relax and play his part so Beau wouldn’t hit on her. He didn’t want Beau hitting on her either, but he needed a break from this pretend boyfriend garbage.
“Okay. That’s enough.”
“Ike, you have to relax.” She ran her fingers up and down the back of his head, continuing to massage his scalp and neck with her fingertips. He’d never felt anything so incredible. He wanted to forget about his past heartbreak, his promise to himself to not get into another relationship, and tell her they could practice for hours. Why not practice until this relationship became real? How could he convince her he was her type?
All these foreign thoughts unnerved him enough that he barked out, “We’re done with practice. We’re almost to our destination.”
Instead of backing away or being offended by his tone, she leaned in. He was overwhelmed by her clean, fresh scent.
“This is what we can’t be doing,” she said. “Flipping out, snapping at each other. You always appear so relaxed and in control, but then I touch you and …”
She was on to him. This was a nightmare.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I think we’re good. Thank you. We’ll be fine. We’ll do fine.” He needed to catch a full breath, think clearly before they met Beau Alexander. He could not do that with her hands on him.
“You think we’re experts at looking like a couple?”
“For sure. Thank you.” His voice was a fraction more pleasant.
She had to release him now or he’d do something insane like drive off the road, lift her over the console, and kiss her.
“Okay,” she agreed, and he caught a full breath. “Thank you. Hopefully we can both relax when we touch in front of Beau Alexander. He might believe we’re dating, with the sparks shooting between us and all.”
Ike was confused. She was teasing him, maybe even mocking him. There were sparks shooting between them from simple hand holding and her touching his shoulder, back, neck, and hair. Did she feel the same or was she laughing at him for reacting so intensely to her touch and not acting like his relaxed self? He couldn’t get a read on her. Was she simply a tease and toying with him? She’d seemed uncertain earlier and uncomfortable with the thought of Beau hitting on her, but now it felt like she was enjoying this. He couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying it, but he hadn’t been this muddled in the head in years.
She suddenly arched her upper body over the console and was in his space. He should’ve strong armed her away, but he couldn’t. That would be more telling than anything.
She pressed her lips to the pulse point in his neck.
An explosion of happiness surged through him. He swerved and barely missed a street sign, then straightened the wheel and tried to hold his posture strong and straight.
“Oh, definitely,” she whispered against his neck, her warm breath making his stomach hop. “Sparks shooting between us for certain. I can’t wait to see how convincing you’ll be when you kiss my neck.”
Ike would pass out if he kissed her neck. His body was responding to her like a pathetic teenager. She’d never believe him if he told her he’d been engaged, and that he had kissed and dated a few different women before Sadie.
“Myra,” he gritted out. “Please. I need to get us there safely.”
She laughed and straightened, patting him on the arm and then reclining back into her chair as if she hadn’t just upended his world. “I think you’re right.”
“I am?”
“We’ll be just fine. I can use your extreme reactions to my touch to prove to Beau how gone you are over me,” she said smugly, a woman who knew her man was in her control.
He wasn’t her man, and he had never felt so transparent in his life.
“Gone over you?” he murmured, risking a glance at her.
