Page 4 of Beckoning Liam

"Danger?" She tilted her head, the innocence in her gaze clashing with the sharp intellect he knew lay beneath. He wondered if she could really be so astute in her work and yet so blind as to the situation she was now in.

"The messages you’re translating?"

“How do you know about that?”

“That’s not important,” Liam said, his tone carrying a tinge of frustration. He unfolded his arms, placing his hands on her desk and leaning forward. "You're in danger, and my job is to protect you."

"Protect me?" Her lips parted, and she blinked, as if the concept was foreign to her. "From what, exactly?"

"From those who would kill to keep their secrets buried," he stated bluntly, watching as the reality of his words settled on her like a tangible weight. “You can’t really believe you could say something to JJ or Olivia and not have them mention it to those who could keep you safe, can you?”

"I think they’re probably attaching far more significance than is necessary," she said as she stood and moved from behind her desk. She shook her hair. “I don’t believe that. JJ and Olivia overreacted.”

Somehow a bit of the light that had seemed so much a part of her dimmed. He hated that he was the bearer of such darkness to her door. Liam's gaze remained locked on Becks as she began to pace the length of her office, a sanctuary of books and papers that seemed to echo her restless energy. Her hands moved with an elegance that belied their capability.

"I think you should probably leave.” Liam didn’t move. “Did you hear me?" Her voice was sharp, a pointed reminder that they were not in the club; here they were equals and she was refusing to be treated as anything less.

"Every single word," he assured her, his tone low and steady. "Doesn’t matter. You're in danger, Becks."

"I've dealt with threats before," she countered, flicking her hair behind her shoulder with an air of defiance.

"Oxford isn't exactly a hotbed of espionage and violence. Fitz believes you’ve stumbled into something bigger than academic intrigue," Liam said. "Tell me about the translation."

Her violet eyes flickered with a mix of frustration, annoyance and fear. "I was hired anonymously to translate a series of encrypted emails. I thought it was just another routine job." The tremor in her voice betrayed what she'd uncovered. "The content seems to allude to some kind of terrorist plot, but that’s absurd, isn’t it?"

"Where's the client now?" He watched her closely, the tension between them going beyond the physical.

"I… I don’t know," she said quietly, meeting his gaze squarely. "I tried tracking him down, but he seems to have vanished without a trace the moment I sent over my concerns."

"Which means you're the only one who can connect the dots," Liam concluded, his protective instincts flaring to life like a wildfire. "Whoever is behind this—the plot, the disappearance all of it— will want to ensure those dots remain unconnected."

Becks' breath seemed to catch as she came to grips, perhaps for the first time, with the full scope of the danger that might be closing in around her.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Her question indicated she might be willing to accept Cerberus’ assessment of the situation.

Liam reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm in a gesture meant to comfort, yet it seared with the memory of past heat. "Cerberus will keep you safe. Fitz has assigned me, and I’ll protect you, Becks. No matter what it takes."

As he spoke, the world outside her scholarly haven seemed to fade away, but beneath the surface of their connection lay a churning sea of danger, ready to engulf them both.

"Becks," he began, softer this time, "you need to understand the importance of what you've stumbled into. It matches some rumors we’ve heard through our intelligence sources. Your expertise makes you valuable... and vulnerable. We can't take any chances."

"Take chances," she murmured, a crease forming between her brows as she considered his words. She glanced down at her hands, then back up at him through thick lashes. "I don’t need a Dom.”

“Somehow, I doubt that, but we can put that aside unless and until you tell me otherwise. But I will protect you.”

“Your reputation at the club doesn’t peg you for the overprotective type, Liam."

"Only when it’s warranted," he replied, his demeanor softening despite himself. He noted the subtle flush of her cheeks, the quickening of her breath, and the memory of their shared heat flared within him. Swallowing the surge of desire, he reminded himself of the stakes. "You scened with me once; that doesn't mean I'll overlook my responsibilities."

"Is that what this is?" she challenged, a spark igniting in her eyes, revealing a glimpse of the fierce spirit that matched her physical allure. "Responsibility?"

"Partly," he conceded, meeting her gaze. "But there's more at stake than personal entanglements, Becks. This isn't about what happened at the club, it's about keeping you safe.”

"Locking me away in some kind of cage?" she shot back, her defiance a sign of her strong character.

"Interesting idea, but no, it’s about keeping you alive," Liam countered, the intensity of his own conviction resonating between them. "Trust me. And if you can’t do that, trust Fitz and Cerberus to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Becks laughed, a short, disbelieving sound that did nothing to ease the knot growing in Liam's gut. She turned away from him, her hands rifling through papers strewn across her desk—a chaotic contrast to the orderly scholar he knew she was. "I have tenure to consider, Liam. Lectures, students—my life. You can't expect me to drop everything because of some vague threat."

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