Page 18 of Her Intense Protector

“Sure, I like the breeze. But I had the side lock on.”

Ezio snorted. “Honey, that thing won’t stop anyone and you’re on the first floor. That’s okay, we can get you set up.”

She frowned. “Set up with what?”

“A security system.”

She shook her head. “You’re sounding exactly like Asher. I told him I don’t need one, and now I’m telling you, it’s not necessary.”

“I hear you.” He pulled her into his arms.

“Yeah, but are you listening?”

He pushed hair off of her temples. God, his touch felt so good. What had she been saying? He touched his lips to her jaw. “I’ll always listen to what you have to say,” he promised.

Samantha felt herself melting against him. It was still too soon, but something told her she might be getting a security system.

He walked her back to the door. “Don’t forget to lock up behind me. And don’t leave your bedroom window open tonight, okay?”

Sam rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious, Samantha.”

“Okay,” she promised. She’d have to get a ceiling fan.

He gave her one more long lingering kiss, then he was gone. She locked the door and leaned against it.

Holy hotness.

7

Cutting out pictures from magazines was one thing but trying on beautiful and sexy dresses was another thing. Samantha would normally never go into a boutique like this, but it screamed money, and that’s what she needed for this sting operation.

When she stood in the middle of the store and just let her eyes peruse over the garments, she was drawn to the jewel tones. Pastels didn’t work well with her light skin and hair.

“Can I help you?” a young girl asked.

“I’m looking for a cocktail dress that will make a bold impression.”

She looked Sam over, and then went and pulled out a white, pale pink, and silver dress.

So much for bold.

“Thank you, but I really don’t think those will go with my coloring.”

“Oh yes they will,” the clerk insisted. “The white especially. Let me set you up a room.”

It was a What-Would-Eden-Do? moment.

“You can get a room for me, but don’t bother with those three dresses, I’ll select some.”

“I really think you should give these a shot,” the girl tried again.

“Ivy?” an older woman stepped up towards her, clearly the manager. “Why don’t you go fold the sweaters on that table back there, and I’ll help this customer.”

Ivy gave a long-suffering sigh. “All right.” She handed the three dresses to her boss as she sashayed away.

“Did I hear you say bold?” the older woman asked.