Page 27 of Regally Binding

Power and anger filled the room. Liss’s muscles quivered, and nausea swirled in her belly.

Liss attempted to close her door quietly, but at Strike’s mutterings, she froze. “Stop thinking with your dick, and remember how much we need to do well on this job. We can’t have a repeat of last time.”

Although not aimed at her, Liss stung from Strike’s reprimand. All they did was kiss. She closed her door just as she heard the lift doors opening again.

“I’m out here,” Strike announced to Liss. “It’s probably best if you stay in your room. Some of us have work to do.”

Liss climbed under the duvet and prayed for sleep. Shame quickly replaced the arousal that’d died when she heard the words “repeat of last time.” If she never saw either of the bodyguards again, it would be too soon.

Chapter Thirteen

After tossing and turning for an hour, Liss screamed her annoyance into a pillow. She tightly closed her eyes and attempted breathing exercises, but the memory of Bear’s touch competed with the shame she felt at being caught by Strike. It crowded her mind each time her eyelids fluttered closed.

She waited for Bear’s gruff London tones to replace Strike’s muffled voice from the other side of the door, but they didn’t come. Her stomach knotted at the idea that he’d already forgotten their kiss. He was probably downtown, laughing with a colleague that Liss was one of many women into him. He was a bad boy and a player. He probably entertained a fuck buddy in every country while she lived like life’s rejected nun.

She needed Isla’s words of wisdom. The burner phone Bear lent her winked from where she’d tossed it after calling her grandma. Liss grabbed it, but there were no numbers on it. Her grandma might have Isla’s number, but nothing could make her repeat that call.

Liss turned the phone over in her hand before flicking through her options. It was a basic phone without internet capabilities. Suddenly, Liss face-palmed. She knew the number for the pub. Steve was managing the place in her absence.

“Steve will have Isla’s number,” Liss mumbled as if she needed to hear other sounds in her bedroom to reduce her isolation.

Liss crept to the door and peeked through the tiny gap. Strike’s back was to her as he tapped away at a laptop. Even with the muscles that pushed against his white shirt, she wasn’tattracted to him. Bear’s kiss played on a loop in her head. She remembered the way her moans had carried between them. His gentleness left her flushed.

“Fuck,” she grumbled. She needed to speak to Isla before her bodyguard crush made her do anything else stupid.

Liss tiptoed to the bathroom and shut the door firmly before turning on the taps to drown out her call. Her gaze flicked to the door as she quickly tapped the number of the pub. Suddenly, the phone rang at the other end, and she released the breath she was holding. Each unanswered ring bashed her in the chest, making it tighter as the knots in her belly squeezed and twisted. Strike would lose his shit if he heard her calling work. And she promised Bear she’d behave.

But then he kissed her like no one ever had.

She stamped her feet. The rings continued. It would go to the answering machine after seven. There was an answer within five rings policy. This was number six, and—

“The Bell End,” a voice that wasn’t Steve’s shouted. Someone chose the pub’s name hundreds of years earlier in all innocence, but now the employees loved announcing it at every opportunity. It was its own marketing tool, and many people wanted to spend time at The Bell End. “How can I help you?”

Liss wrung the hem of her vest. “Ewan, is that you? Where’s Steve?”

“Boss—or should I call you Your Highness now?” Ewan, the pub’s self-proclaimed sex god snorted, and Liss clenched her jaw. “Steve didn’t come for his shift. But I’ve got this, and nothing is going wrong.”

Ewan was usually too busy trying to seduce the female clients to serve drinks. When not chatting them up, he shared stories of his conquests and reminded everyone that the condom machine was running empty due to his exploits. With him in charge, Liss’s pub, which had survived two world wars and severalfootball riots, would be destroyed within a day. She worried her lip as she considered rushing to the pub to sort things out. If she got hold of Isla, she’d check on Steve.

“Ewan, have you and Isla hooked up?”

Over the last few months, Ewan ducked in the back every time Isla visited. It was a familiar move for him after he’d slept with someone. He usually ghosted the women he no longer needed until the next time he was “lonely.” Isla often picked the wrong guys when she was hornier than a homemaker at a Dream Boys concert, and she rolled her eyes every time Ewan hid.

Ewan stuttered, “I wouldn’t say that.” Liss slammed her fist down on the sink. Suddenly, there was a sound outside the bathroom door. “I mean we’ve never—”

“Ewan, did you sleep with Isla two months ago? It was a Thursday, and you were on closing,” Liss hissed while glancing warily at the door.

“How did you know that?” he blustered. It was the next day he started hiding. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to decipher it. “Fine. We had one intimate night together.”

Liss held back laughter. She’d heard enough comments from his former conquests to know that intimacy was not one of his bedroom skills. But she couldn’t talk. Her hookups were regretful, and her recent Tinder possibilities were embarrassing.

Liss shook herself. She didn’t have time to consider all her failures. “Do you have her number? And don’t give me the runaround.”

“Yes, but, Boss, we’re not meant to have our phones on us when we’re behind the bar,” he stuttered.

A knock came at the bathroom door.

“Felicity, come out, please?” Strike asked with an edge to his request.

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