He’d dropped her off at her suite, programming the biometric lock on the door, then proving that neither he nor the other team members could enter. Only her fingerprint wouldgrant access. She was impressed and pleased to have control over her living space for the first time in over a year. But she couldn’t shake the disappointment of Lachlan not having access. He was her bodyguard, after all. Shouldn’t he be able to get in, too, in case she needed him?
Oh, who was she fooling?
She had no issue with Lachlan coming and going because of this ill-timed and inappropriate attraction to the brooding Scot. An intense sensual appeal drew her like a moth to his flame. And she was doing a piss poor job of hiding it.
The knock came again. Louder and more insistent this time.
Reaching for the napkin, she tossed it over the plate, then tugged at the belt of the terry cloth robe, cinching it tighter around her body. She hadn’t bothered to change after the decadent shower in the spa-like bathroom. Vichy showerheads peppered her with gloriously hot water, soothing away any remaining tension in her weary muscles. It was a far cry from the showers she’d taken back in the box.
Pushing those horrible memories away, Britt looked through the peephole as her hand rested on the door handle.
Lachlan stood on the other side. He ran a hand through his ginger-brown hair as a hint of a frown played between his eyebrows. His broad shoulders bulged beneath the simple white t-shirt he wore. Her hands itched to explore them, caressing the strong muscles and pulling him into her.
Stop this.
She was fighting to remember her life and running from a man trying to kill her. It was the worst time to have sexual fantasies about the man who was gracious enough to be her bodyguard pro bono.
Lachlan lifted his arm to knock again, but she opened the door.
He stumbled inside, colliding with her. His arm wrapped around her waist to steady himself and stop them from toppling to the floor.
“Hi,” she said, wishing her words hadn’t come off so breathy. Clearing her throat, she added, “I wasn’t expecting you to return to the compound tonight.”
“I told you I wasn’t going to leave you alone,” Lachlan said, maintaining his hold on her. She loved the possessive way it felt, like he was claiming her as his. “How was your dinner?”
“Best meal I’ve had in over a year.” She smoothed a hand through her thick, wet strands and stepped back from him. Distance was prudent with this man. Taking the hint, he dropped his arm from her waist. She was flooded with disappointment, even if it was the right thing to do. “Not sure how I know this, but that dinner had all my favorite foods. Probably just a coincidence, but let the chef know they have my undying gratitude.”
“It was take-out from Nettie’s. I just transferred it to nicer plates.”
“Oh, I love Nettie’s. Now it all makes sense,” Britt said, then reached around him to close the door.
“You remember the restaurant?”
“I remember a lot of the places in Conrad. I think I spent a lot of time there, not that I’m Palmchatter. I don’t have the right accent,” she said, then walked back to the coffee table where her plate sat. “Should I take this to the kitchen?”
“I’ll clean it up later.”
“Wow, I didn’t realize having a bodyguard would come with all these extra perks. You take care of my food. Clean up after me. A girl could get used to this,” she said, then pinched herself to stop smiling at him like a coquettish schoolgirl. Flirting with her bodyguard was so cliché.
“You deserve that and more.” He smiled. A deadly weapon, sultry and mischievous. The slight reddish tint of the five o’clock shadow on his face caught the light in a way that made him irresistible. “You settling in okay otherwise? Shower was good?”
His gaze raked along the length of her body. His eyes were like X-rays, assessing whether she was naked beneath the robe, which she was. Her skin flushed, and her inner muscles clenched. This was more than dangerous.
“All good.” Those words were a high-pitched squeal. Could she embarrass herself anymore? She turned away from him and sat on the couch. She reached for one of the pillows and held it against her stomach. A weak barrier between them, but it would have to do.
“Well, I hope this will make it even better.” He walked over to the couch and sat beside her, leaving one cushion separating them.
Britt looked down at the black metal card etched with a stingray.
“I already have one of those, but mine is red.”
“Red cards grant you access to our help as a client. This card gives you access to come and go from the facilities … as you please.” His words were laced with such care as he said, “You’ve been held against your will for too long, Britt. I don’t want this to feel like you’re trading one prison for another.”
“Is it safe for me to leave?” She reached for the card, flipping it over in her palm.
“This compound sits on private land owned by the King Family, one of the richest in all of the Caribbean islands. They have a highly trained security team that guards the property and protects the family and their billion-dollar coffee fields,” Lachlan explained, relaxing on the pillows. “You’re completely safe here. The Cabrito Mountains are beautiful. Lots of trails to explore,and at this elevation, you can see straight down to the beaches and the Caribbean sea.”
“Sounds beautiful, thank you.” She slid the card into the pocket of her robe. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. Although, I’m sure it must be hard on you. I imagine you press pause on your life whenever you get a new client to protect. Must be a pain.”
