Page 107 of Unseen Danger

Her pulse jumped. Man, if he was going to start teasing her like that, she’d be in trouble. She grinned, and his smile broadened.

“You’re right. Princess kind of picked me, I guess. Or really, God picked us for each other.”

There it was again. One of those God mentions he liked to drop in at odd moments.

“I worked as a personal protection specialist for a certain celebrity who…had a lot of issues.”

“Don’t they all?”

His mouth angled in another smile. “Good point. But hers were particularly bad. I felt sorry for her. She fired everyone who worked for her in the time I was there, hiring replacements she’d fire soon, too. I knew I wouldn’t last forever either. She posed for a photo shoot with kittens once and decided on a whim she had to have one. So her people brought Princess home, though she had a different name back then.”

He scratched the fluffy cat under her chin, eliciting a purr that made Alvarez wag his tail as he watched the feline. “Princess and I took a liking to each other right away. My client didn’t really do anything with her, but her staff did the feeding and essentials. Until my client had one of her episodes one night.”

The amusement in Branson’s eyes faded. “She had substance abuse problems and would fly into rages. Princess was the target of that particular rage. In the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. I intervened, trying to become the target instead.”

A rueful tilt lifted his lips as he glanced at the tiny cat that burrowed down farther into the crook of his elbow. “It worked, but she still threw Princess out on the street before I could stop her. It took me an hour to find Princess, but, thank the Lord, I did. And we both got out of there, didn’t we, girl?” He lifted Princess closer to his face as his voice softened into something very close to baby talk.

Nevaeh couldn’t help the light laugh that escaped. Who would’ve imagined Hercules would baby talk to a mini feline named Princess?

Warmth ballooned inside her torso, starting in her belly and reaching her chest. Could Branson be for real? If he was any more perfect, he really would be mythical. And he’d be way out of her league. Who could date a perfect man? An infallible hero who was strong but gentle and loving?

“Want to hold her while I change?” He extended the white creature toward her.

“Sure.” The cat was suddenly in her arms, a warm ball of fur softer than Nevaeh had imagined.

Branson closed the door, but Princess didn’t seem to mind. She made herself at home, burrowing her little face under the collar of Nevaeh’s jacket until it tickled. Nevaeh laughed and smoothed her hand over the cat’s soft body.

Alvarez bumped into Nevaeh’s leg, making it known he’d like to meet Princess, too.

“How would you like to say ‘hi’ to a doggy?” Nevaeh carefully lowered the cat for Alvarez to sniff, watching both animals carefully for friendly body language.

But her mind drifted to the man behind the door. And the fact that even if he was perfect, she’d very much like to date Branson Aaberg. To be the other special girl in his life besides Princess. To be the other one he protected and loved.

Her racing heart told her she probably wanted that way too much. If he didn’t feel something for her, she could be placing herself in danger of a different kind than she was used to confronting.

Thirty

“Now the standing rear attack.” Phoenix’s unemotional voice was the distraction Branson desperately needed.

He nodded and stalked up behind Nevaeh. He slipped his arms around her waist, clenching harder than he’d like. But Phoenix had already scolded him for being too gentle three times during this training session at the martial arts studio. She had a point. He wouldn’t do Nevaeh any good if he was too easy for her to escape from.

But it was one of the biggest psychological challenges he’d ever faced, trying to stay detached and apathetic about the physical contact. Because he did care. A lot.

The fragrant, fruity scent of her hair, the warmth of her body, the way her eyes had looked at him this morning—soft and trusting—all of it lured him to wrap his arms around her and hold her close for an entirely different reason.

“Go again.” Phoenix’s even tone jolted him to the realization Nevaeh was reaching back to grip his ankle. “Speed is everything.” The woman’s baseball cap blocked her eyes from view, at least from Branson’s high vantage point, but she was clearly talking to Nevaeh. “If he were an attacker, you’d be dragged or on the ground by now. Again.”

Branson released his hold and walked away, using the opportunity to take some deep breaths. He’d trained with a couple other women when he’d sought more martial arts training on his own after the SEALs. He’d never had any problem being close to them and keeping his mind only on the objective. Discipline, Aaberg. You got this.

Phoenix gave him a nod, and he marched up to Nevaeh, gripping her waist even tighter this time to drag her.

She instantly dropped forward at the waist, reached behind to hook his ankle, and leaned back to knock him to the floor.

The triumphant grin she tossed him over her shoulder as she held his leg in a breakable pose shot a bolt of heat straight to his heart.

He tapped her calf to signal she should stop the stretch on his knee. “Nice.” His mouth smiled around the words that sounded a little breathless. Hopefully, she’d think it was from the exertion.

She let go and extended her hand as if to help him up. If he really gave her his weight to lift, he’d pull her over right into his lap. Not that he’d mind. But he brushed off that enticing image in a hurry and took her hand, hoisting most of his weight himself as he stood.

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