Page 3 of Her UnBearable Protector

“You can’t just follow me!”

Like a dark cloud over the head of an old-time cartoon character, he loomed over her as she turned away. She took in a breath and scented his cologne. Dear God, why does he have so smell that good?

She kept her head held high, and struggled to come up with an idea that didn’t involve her hiding in her office with a chair under the doorknob. An opening door at the end of the hallway gave her an idea that might allow her a few moments of space, some breathing room.

Putting an extra burst of energy in her steps she hustled down the hall, ignoring the frustrated huff of sound that blew from his parted lips.

She groaned inwardly. How could she know his lips were parted? How was it that she’d memorized nearly every inch of his face even though she’d only known him for a few minutes? Usually she saw people in dimensions, proportions. But with this man, she saw strength and energy, heat and raw power. She saw hands and skin and she felt. Felt emotions and need and recognized that it was her own. That scared her more than deadlines, more than failure. She wasn’t a person who enjoyed casual touches, hugs made her shudder with anxiety, but she wanted to feel his touch and to tremble under the exploration of his mouth.

Natale pushed the door to the bathroom open and stepped inside, making a beeline for the sinks. The barely out of date marble and brass features of the room made the enclosed space cold and impersonal, just what she needed. And when the cold water splashed into her palms, she gasped at the rush of pain and pleasure at the sudden chill.

“Natale-”

And the cold vanished, only to be replaced by a rush of heat. “Seriously?” She spun around, putting the counter at her back. “I don’t even know you and you want to ‘take care of me?’”

“I’m Salvatore Orsino.” His tone fairly echoed in the small room. Instead of making her feel small, the sound of his voice caressed her like a touch and got under her skin even more. “I’m the head of Orsino Security. Your father hired me to keep you safe.”

“That’s great, really, but I don’t need your help.” His heavy accent was enough to make her tremble, she loved the rich round syllables of the Italian language. Romance languages were great on the whole, but maybe it was because her family originated in Italy that she really liked the sound of the language. The gorgeous tone of his voice was enough to make her shiver, but she wasn’t about to let him know how much he affected her. She was trying to make him go away, not lift her up onto the counter and… she forced her thoughts into the back of her head. “This is a private bathroom.”

He leaned his hip on the edge of the counter and settled his eyes on her face. “This isn’t open to discussion. I’ve made my decision. You need to let me do my job.”

“All you’re doing is irritating me.” She leaned both hands on the counter top and let out a huff of breath. “Please, can’t you just wait outside?”

“It’s too far from you.”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, struggling to get herself under control. She didn’t need to snap at him. It wasn’t his fault that her father had dragged him into the whole situation. “I have work to do, and if you’re hovering near me,” she sighed, “I can’t.”

“Can’t?”

The echo of his voice touched her skin like a caress.

“No,” she answered him, “I can’t.”

“Why?”

She felt the heat of his skin against her cheek, the weight of him against her back, even though they weren’t even touching.

He took a step closer, and she held out her hand, flattening her palm against his chest. The touch was enough to steal her breath. “Stop. Don’t come so close to me,” the words whispered from her lips, “I can’t think.”

She didn’t have to look up into his face to know he was smiling. She could feel it. And she wanted to wipe that smug look off of his face, but she knew that touching his bare skin would be a huge mistake.

“Look, I don’t want to argue. I know you’re only here because of my father. And I appreciate that, Mr. Orsino-”

“Call me Salvatore.”

Whoa, add that to the list of things she was not going to do, ever. Calling him by his first name was definitely not going to happen. She was trying to fire him, not make a personal connection between them.

“Mr. Orsino,” she repeated, “you can stay in the workroom, until I talk to my father and get this all worked out. But you will sit or stand beside the door. The front door,” she clarified, “and I expect you not to distract anyone from their work.”

He nodded, a short movement that said he agreed to her terms. “I just need to know that you won’t leave the workroom without me.”

She gave him a look that told him exactly what she thought of his edict. “The only ways I get out of this space are that front door, or a window onto a catwalk,” she turned and gestured in the direction of the south wall, the rest of her words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them, “and I only used the catwalk when we had a fire on an upper floor. I nearly had to grease my hips with butter to get them out of the window.”

Realizing what she’d just said, she looked back up with a hot flush in her cheeks, only to find her built bodyguard taking a long thorough look at her hips. When he lifted his gaze back to her face, she saw his eyes go dark again.

She didn’t care if it made her crazy, but she liked the way he looked at her. And that made Salvatore Orsino even more dangerous than the reason he’d been hired.

“So,” she struggled to steady her hands as she gestured to the door, “you’ll remain at the door and try not to disrupt our workroom and I agree that once we’re done for the day, we’ll talk over this assignment you think you have to take care of me.”

---