Chapter Eight

Roman

Throughout dinner, I flirt with her and insist she order dessert. The girl can’t hold her wine. I’d like to order another bottle, or the devil on my shoulder would like to. She’s fun, and we laugh together, but I’m not plying her with liquor her first night. After a small glass, she’s slightly buzzed, but her tipsiness wears off by the time I convince her to at least share a piece of chocolate cake with me. The waiter brings a huge slice with a dollop of whipped cream on top.

“I shouldn’t,” she murmurs, her face blooming with color.

“And why not?”

“I try to avoid sweets. They make me fluffy.”

I shake my head, carve off a forkful and offer her the first bite of cake. “You’re perfect, Tessa.”

Once I get my hands on you, I’m never letting you go…

A shadow of vulnerability passes behind her eyes, but she lets me feed her the cake. She closes her eyes and makes a soft sound of pleasure. Lust burns through my body, laying waste to every good intention. I’d love nothing better to go all-out Viking, carry her off and spend the rest of the night devouring every inch of her body.

I won’t, of course. Not the first night I have her in my home.

“Dinner was lovely,” she tells me as we leave the restaurant.

I’m about to reply, when she stops in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror. She gives me a mischievous smile, pulls out her phone and holds it up to take a picture of us. I tug her into my embrace, wrapping both arms around her in a possessive gesture I can’t hold back. A soft, breathless laugh comes from her lips.

I feel her shoulders tighten. She wants to step away, but I won’t let her. “Come on, Tessa. I held you a lot closer last night. If I was some kind of monster, you’d know by now.”

She looks up at me, searching my eyes. I’m walking a fine line between being a domineering male who wants to protect his mate, and a man who needs to prove he’s not just trying to get laid.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” she says.

I don’t move, waiting for her to say more. Fierce need burns inside me. I resist the urge to press my mouth to hers. Everything about her drives me wild. Her unguarded gaze. Her scent. The way she feels in my arms.

She speaks softly, her voice wavering. “I’m sure that at the stroke of midnight, everything will go poof.”

“Remember, Cinderella. You owe me. Nothing’s going poof.”

The foyer is less busy than it was earlier, but there are still plenty of people walking around. We’re standing in the middle of the marble-encased lobby, but all I can see is her. My whole world is just this one girl. If she knew just a little bit of my fascination with her, she’d probably run from me.

“Take the picture, Tessa. This is no dream. It’s the real thing. There’s something between you and me, and we’re going to find out how deep it is.”

“I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

I expected as much, but I still make a show of frowning. “All right. The storm should be arriving in a few hours. If you get cold, you have an open offer to my bed.”

Her smile falters. I’ve said too much. I cup her jaw and stroke my thumb along her cheek. “I’m teasing. Mostly. I promise to be a gentleman.”

Dropping my arms, I release her from my hold, but take her hand in mine and lead her to the elevator. We step inside and she presses against the far wall to put some distance between us. On the way up to the penthouse, she types on her phone.

“I’m sending that picture to Chelsea. She says I’ve gotten so boring lately.”

I’m not sure what I think about the roommate knowing too much about Tessa staying with me. Chelsea’s caused her some trouble. She obviously doesn’t have great judgment or taste in men. But I shrug off the worry.

“Have you become boring lately?” I ask, teasing her a little.

She sends the text and looks up at me, sparks dancing in her eyes. “I have not become boring lately, I’ll have you know.”

“No?”

“No. I’ve always been boring.”

She snickers at her own joke, making me laugh too. Contentment fills my chest as we ride the rest of the way up in amiable silence. I get a dozen invitations every week. There’s always a fundraiser or civic event. In the past, I’ve loved the glitter and glamor, but the thought of just being close to Tessa tonight makes me so fucking happy. I know she’s going to insist on staying in the guest room, but I’ll still have her nearby.

We get off the elevator and Tessa looks at me awkwardly. I could kiss her, but I won’t just yet. I enjoy the way she shifts nervously, and I really love the way she bites her lip. If I could think of some other teasing remark, I’d make it now, but I’m too distracted by the way her teeth sink into her pillowy lower lip.

As she wanders to the foyer table, her phone pings. She sets her purse down and reads a message, one I assume Chelsea sent. Drawing a sharp breath, she lifts a trembling hand to her mouth.

I’m at her side in an instant. “What is it?”

She turns bright red and slams the phone to her chest so that I can’t see the message. I’m not trying to pry, but if something’s upsetting her, I need to know. Maybe I’m prying a little, but I don’t like to see her so upset.

“Who is the text from, Tessa?”

“Brendon. Chelsea’s boyfriend.”

“What’s he saying?”

She purses her lips in stubborn defiance.

“Tessa,” I say softly. “You can tell me, or I’ll go ask him myself.”

Her jaw drops.

“I mean it. I can find anyone, anytime, and if I have go through the trouble of locating the man who hurt you, I’ll probably spend a little time with him. Have a friendly chat.”

She swallows hard as she considers her options. Not that she has any, but she seems to think she does. If someone is threatening her, I will neutralize the threat. That’s the word we use when we discuss clients at Savage Security, and it means a variety of things. In this case, I wouldn’t instruct one of my men, I’d simply go after Brendon myself.

“He said that…” her voice trails off.

“What did he say, sweetheart?”

“Chelsea told him I’ve never dated. He’s saying that, because I’ve never slept with a guy… he says he knows men who would pay for…”

I stare at her in complete shock. She’s a virgin. Holy shit.

She’s whispering so softly, I can barely hear her. Shame and embarrassment wash over her features. Knowing about her innocence makes my protective instincts ratchet up a thousand notches. Rage rips through my chest. I want to find this bastard and show him he’s messed with the wrong girl. I’m surprised Tessa is still a virgin, but not shocked. I’m pissed this guy knows anything about Tessa, much less that particular bit of information.

Her face goes white. She winces with discomfort. “What I mean to say-”

“Shh… I get it, Tessa. You don’t need to explain.”

She blinks as her eyes fill with tears. I move closer, daring to touch her. She looks away. “I have lots of friends, but nobody like Chelsea. And now she’s with this guy. It’s like I don’t even know her anymore.”

“Chelsea will come around.” I want to add, after her boyfriend gets a good beat-down and realizes he needs to leave Westmoreland.

“She’s never been this way. Never gotten so serious about this kind of guy before. It’s changed everything.”

I thought my instincts to shelter her were powerful before this. Mention of Brendon and what he wants to sell for money, changes everything. My instincts shift, harden and with a flash of heat, burn straight through me. What’s left in the ash is brutal and primal.

“Tessa,” I say from between gritted teeth. “You’re never going back there. I’ll send people to pack up your belongings. You live here now.”

I want to comfort her, but my words seem to make her more distraught. She looks wide-eyed, almost panicked.

“You’re safe with me, Tessa.” I force myself to smile, an expression that is probably more of a grimace. Then I lay my hand over my heart. “I will do anything for you, protect you with my life. I promise.”

I don’t know where that came from. I’ve worked as a bodyguard long enough that I understand what the words mean. I cut my teeth on dangerous assignments. Worn Kevlar. Taken a bullet twice and a blade three times. Protecting someone with my life is part of my job, and yet, I’ve never said the words before. Ever.

She seems impressed and I’m ridiculously pleased.

Her shoulders relax, lowering a fraction of an inch and she nods, her eyes shining with gratitude. I let my gaze wander across her beautiful face. The way she looks at me, like she thinks I’m a good guy, makes me certain I’m headed straight for hell. I stroke her jaw. My chest tightens painfully.

It’s then that I realize I’m already there.