Page 35 of Close Protection

‘Khorosho.’

I pass her the new clothes and start pulling off my shirt, speaking in Russian again: ‘Get changed and put these on.’ I pass her the glasses. ‘Stuff your old clothes in the tote bag once you’re done.’

As soon as I’ve handed her the items, I turn and face the wall to give her some privacy. I’ve been so busy figuring out the next move that I didn’t even think about the fact that we’d have to get changed in such close proximity.

Together.

Just keep it professional.

Keep. It. Professional.

16Daphne

Now, I’ve watched Captain America and Superman and all those kinds of films, but I’m happy to report they have absolutely nothing on the man standing before me. When he takes his shirt off, I gaze down his front in the mirror, the current situation forgotten. His strong, toned abs mixed with his light tan gives him the look of a mythical god. Think Hercules.

My eyes trace up his arm and lead me to his broad shoulders, watching them gently move up and down as his breathing steadies. When he starts loosening his belt, I come to my senses and turn around, pulling on the joggers under my dress.

‘Are you sure?’ I hear faintly. I don’t recognize the voice but I speed up, swiftly removing my dress and pulling the tight green top over my head. I turn back around and stuff the dress into the tote just as Milosh is shruggingon his shirt. He crams his old clothes on top of mine and takes out a pair of glasses I didn’t even notice him getting. When he places them on his face, my chest constricts.

The man is a modern-day Clark Kent.

‘Yes, I’m sure they went this way,’ I hear the sales associate say, a little closer this time. I look up at Milosh as he pauses on a shirt button. He glances down at me, an unreadable emotion swimming in his eyes.

‘Fine, you do a lap of the store and I’ll check the changing rooms. Remember, we only need the girl. And don’t hurt her, they want her alive,’ says a deep male voice. I can feel my body start to shut down as heightening tremors take over. Within seconds, Milosh is only millimetres away from me. He pulls my hairband out of my hair gently, allowing it to drop from it’s ponytail and cascade down my back.

‘Do you trust me?’ It takes me a moment to understand what he’s saying until I remember the whole only-speaking-in-Russian thing thing.

‘What?’ I turn to look at the curtain as I hear the heavy steps of what feels like my end drawing closer.

‘Do you trust me?’ he whispers again, cupping my face and turning my body so that his shields mine, conflict brewing in his emerald eyes.

I search them before answering, ‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

He leans down, so close that our breathing intertwines and syncs. My senses heighten and all I can smell is him, all I can see is him and all I can hear is the roar in my ears as he brushes his lips hesitantly on mine. He pauses for a second, breaking the kiss to search my eyes. A small smile graces his lips before he pulls me in again, firmer this time, his hands moving to grip my waist and pull me closer until I’m flush against him.

I part my lips and an unexpected moan escapes my mouth, inviting him in.

Andmy goodnessdoes he take that invitation.

He starts off with light, torturously unhurried glides, exploring my mouth, but as soon as I tug on his tongue, hungry for more, the atmosphere shifts around us, the kiss growing deeper, harder and more desperate.

Warmth fills my chest as I reach up and embed my hands in his hair, tugging slightly on the soft strands, a small groan falling out of his mouth as I do so. His hands begin to explore my body, one coming up to stroke my arm, the other descending lower, possessively tracing my gentle curves.

‘Oh jeez, sorry man,’ comes the same deep voice from before as I hear the curtain open and close again instantaneously. My hands leave Milosh’s hair and cometo cup his face, as his hands rest on my hips. Milosh continues to kiss me for a moment longer before slowly pulling back.

‘Turns out, people hate PDA,’ he whispers softly against my mouth, Russian forgotten. ‘Good job, baby.’

We pull apart and he takes his thumb and runs it across my lips, his eyes darkening as he tracks the movement.

Something about the way he saysbaby, his sexy Bulgarian accent thick, makes me pull him in again, crashing my lips against his in desperation and haste, my hands exploring his chest this time. ‘I can still hear him,’ I lie into his mouth. I don’t know if I’m ever going to kiss this man again so I might as well make it last.

He catches on quickly, bringing his hands up to my face, his gentle stroking of my cheek at odds with his commanding, dominating tongue. All too soon I slow it down and break away, instantly feeling a sense of emptiness.

Our breaths are heavy and staggered as we stare at each other, taking in what just happened now that the haze is lifting. ‘We need to get out of here,’ Milosh says, switching back to Russian, his eyes dark as they drink me in. I shift under his gaze as that same heat starts rushing back to my stomach. He pulls out his phone and fires off a text before pocketing it again. ‘There are three emergencyexits in this part of the mall, but we need to exit through the front of this store in order to get to any of them.’ He switches back into bodyguard mode with ease, checking his phone again when it vibrates.

‘Henry is gonna meet us outside the emergency exit and someone else will come to get your car later. Keep your head down, follow me and stay quiet. Only Russian and no real names.’

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