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“Hell, Heather, why not just barge right in,” he growled as he pulled a pair of sweat pants from his dresser and jerked them on over his long, well-muscled legs.
“Do you keep a hard-on?” she asked him, fighting to control her breathing and her regret as he covered the sight of it.
He muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t catch, but it sounded smart enough to piss her off. He flashed her a dark look. “What are you chewing my ass about now?”
She slammed the door, propping her hands on her hips as she watched him in irritation.
“I wasn’t,” she bit out. “But now that you mention it…”
“Forget I mentioned it,” he grunted, exasperation filling his voice.
“Today? In town?” she reminded him, ignoring the suggestion. “What the hell were you doing, trying to kill that bastard on the street? Do you want to go to jail? You will, you know, if he presses charges.”
She watched as his jaw bunched, fury coursing over his expression as his eyes darkened with it.
“Let him,” he grunted. “Because when I get out, I’ll be in the mood to kill. He’ll make a handy subject for the exercise.” Her look of disapproval had him shaking his head in irritation. “Don’t worry, Heather. Tate doesn’t want to mess with me and he knows it.”
The tone of voice, the hard expression, showed the man carefully concealed beneath the laughing exterior. Rick and Tara thought Cade was the one to watch out for, but Heather had always known that Sam’s lazy, laughing exterior held a core of hard, cold steel.
“Sam, that’s not the point.” She shook her head furiously. “Dammit to hell, we were there for a reason and you know it. If you keep jumping out of the shadows, we’re never going to draw that damned stalker out so our men can get a look at him.”
A week of shopping, dressing in the finest clothes and playing debutante was getting on all their nerves. Marly and Sarah were chafing at the constant window shopping, and Cade and Brock were so damned nervous letting them go alone that they were like cats in a roomful of rockers.
“Heather, I will not stand by and let some bastard abuse you, Sarah or Marly. What in the hell makes you think that’s ever going to happen?” He turned on her incredulously. “Did you think I was just going to stand there and let him kick the hell out of you?”
What made her think he would do anything sensible at this point? He hadn’t in all the time she had known him.
“I would have handled it,” she snarled.
“Yeah, I saw that,” he snapped. “The bastard kicked you, Heather. Look at the fucking bruise on your leg. Stop chewing my ass for trying to stop him.”
She didn’t have to look at it, she felt it. But she wasn’t a fool. She had known it was coming, and had known how it would appear to anyone who saw it.
“I didn’t need your protection,” she bit out. “We had a plan, Sam…”
“It was a stupid plan,” he growled as he threw himself down on the bed, watching her through heavy lidded, suddenly sensual eyes. What was it about the August men that any kind of confrontation with women produced this reaction? No, she took that back as her heart leaped. They only reacted that way with “their” women.
“Come over here.” He patted the mattress. “I’ll see if I can’t find something else for you to chew on.”
She frowned as she glanced at the door, then back to Sam. “I’m on duty. Tara would kick my ass. Besides, I’m tired of playing with you. You’re nothing but a tease.”
His teasing had her in such a heightened state of arousal that she was about to drive herself and the other bodyguards crazy with her mercurial moods. He may be treating her like his lover now, but she knew damned good and well that he wasn’t about to fuck her.
“Lock the door. Let me kiss that boo boo on your leg better.” He tempted her with a soft, seductive growl.
Heather bit her lip as she glanced at the door again. Tara was like a damned bear with a sore paw lately. If she caught Heather playing when she should be working there would be hell to pay. And Tara would know if she was playing. Every time Sam touched her, aroused her, only to leave her aching, her temper became so testy that it was becoming a running joke within the group assigned to the ranch.
“Come on, I dare you.” Soft, teasing, he urged her to join his naughtiness. “Come here, baby, let me kiss your boo boo all better.” The words were childish, the voice and the expression were pure sin. He tempted her when she knew better.
“Not a chance, Sam,” she bit out. “You’re all talk, and no action.”
The air seemed to thicken with her challenge.
He frowned. “It’s not nice to call me a tease, Heather.”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Are you denying it, Sam?”
He shrugged, his glance brooding, brimming with intensity, both sexual and anger. “I’m trying to protect you, Heather.”
