Page 40 of Vicious Sabotage

She shook her head. “Don’t try to tell me that was an attack. Mice are a problem on the loading docks. The snake probably came looking for food.”

He took a step, crowding against her. “You’re shaking. Come here.”

She couldn’t toss up her hands to ward him off. She didn’t know if she even wanted to.

He enveloped her in his strong arms.

* * * * *

Carver held Livia against him, determined to absorb every last shiver coursing through her body. As much as she wanted to believe there was no threat against her, he knew better.

He was trained to read signs of danger. If this wasn’t a direct attack or some dark warning to Livia, he’d be the first to admit he was losing his edge.

But he was never wrong.

She slipped her arms around his back and clung to him. When she pressed her cheek against his chest and released a sigh, he flexed his arms around her tighter, more protectively.

He bent over her, and her sweet scent flooded his nose. “I want you to go into the kitchen while I unpack the rest of those boxes. Okay?”

She nodded, her cheek brushing over his chest and sending a sharp pang to his heart. “I’ll fix us some sandwiches.”

“I’d like an extra pickle on mine.”

“You got it.” She pushed back, tipping her head to look into his eyes.

“Oh fuck. Livia.” He kissed her hard, claiming her lips in a gesture that made her rock onto her tiptoes and throw her arms around his neck.

He planted his hands on her waist and held her tighter, dragging her against his stiffening cock.

The blast of a car horn on the street out front forced him to break the kiss. When he stared down into her beautiful eyes, warmth closed around the walls of his heart. He let his hand dip to her round ass and give it a gentle squeeze.

“About that pickle.”

She issued a husky laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” She rocked against his erection again, then withdrew from his hold and walked inside.

As he unboxed everything, his mind flipped to what could have happened to Livia if she had opened that box alone. And she worked alone so much of the time.

He dragged a palm down his face, trying to compartmentalize the anger raging inside him. Someone wanted to hurt her.

Who?

Besides the man she shot, what enemies did she have? She could have pissed off some drunk by not serving him, or a guy who wanted a date she didn’t agree to.

Or more likely, her father had enemies that Livia might not even know about.

He had to get to the bottom of all this, and he needed to speak to his men. Colton and Hunter would be the voice of reason when it came to Livia’s case…because Carver was quickly starting to realize that he was far from impartial when it came to the woman.

It had taken everything inside him to keep from tossing her back in the car and driving her to the closest safehouse. Just like it had required all of his control to keep from yanking her down on top of him that morning while he lay on the couch, aware she was studying him.

A footstep in the doorway made him glance up from the last box he was loading onto the shelf. Livia stood there, hands in the front pockets of her jeans, red hair wild around her beautiful face.

Dammit, he had to get her to safety.

“Sandwiches are ready.”

He straightened from his crouched position and set the final two bottles of alcohol on the storage shelf. “Can’t wait. Livia?”

Fine red brows hitched upward in question.

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