Kate
“Oh, my God!” I turn to Gina as soon as The Hulk is out of earshot. “You cannot leave me with him. No. I mean...I won’t feel comfortable.”
She shoots me a look that’s an odd mix of kindness and exasperation. The expression I suspect many a parent has when looking at their child who fears monsters under the bed or other made up terrors. Except my terrors are real, and now Gina expects me, someone who finds men intimidating at the best of times since my stalker, to cozy up and share my space with a giant of a man.
“What’s wrong with him? Trust me, I know he looks a bit…hippy-dippy, but he’s extremely well trained, and highly competent.”
“He doesn’t look hippy-dippy. He looks…like the Hulk grew his hair, stopped being green and got all…hot.”
My face heats but I push on. “Have you seen him, Gina? He’s…hot. I can’t be guarded day and night by him.”
Her mouth literally drops open. “Oh…I mean, I thought your problem would be with him being too casual or something. You think he’s hot?” Then she cracks a grin. “That’s good, Kate. You told me yourself you’ve not had…you know…those feelings for ages.”
She’s doing some weird winking thing and she looks like a Monty Python sketch. We’ve had a few long, slightly drunken, on my part at least, chats at night, and become kind-of friends. During one of those chats, I admitted that the worst thing about being targeted by a crazy sex-maniac stalker is that it kind of dampens your libido somewhat.
“Not that you should do anything about it—because Reece, he’s here in a professional capacity. He wouldn’t anyway, so you don’t have to worry—but have a little crush on him. Spy on him in the shower.” She cackles at her own joke, but I don’t. I think my stalker spied on me, so the idea leaves me cold.
I could do the crush part quite easily though. He’s gorgeous. I mean, truly gorgeous. With his blonde hair, warm eyes, blinding smile, and that body. Oh lord, his body. It’s outrageous. He reminds me of the guy who plays Thor, only better looking. Seriously, that’s how hot he is. I can’t have him in my little safe house, smoldering away in the corner as I sit wracked by unrequited lust.
Then I think about the current book I’m working on. In this one, my lead character, a female detective who has a dark past and solves a never-ending series of grisly crimes, is supposed to be finally getting together with the hard-nosed Private Investigator she keeps running into. My publishers have been pushing for it from three books back, and I’ve resisted, but they’re growing insistent. The fans want it.
I can’t write it.
I’ve got no sex drive, at all. Or haven’t for the longest time, ever since I read the reports of what my stalker did to some of his suspected victims. At that moment in time it was as if some weird switch got turned off on my otherwise healthy sex drive and turned it to closed in an instant.
It’s not completely gone as I often have unbearably erotic dreams and I’ve woken up coming before, gasping against my pillow, but in the cold light of day, when I’m thoroughly awake and my rational brain is online, I can’t seem to get the urge.
Now, my lizard brain is doing a happy dance. She’s saying, yeah, here’s a guy to finally get the juices flowing. My rational brain is terrified I’ll make an utter fool of myself sharing space with the stunning specimen of manhood pretending to be a mere human being. Surely, he’s at least half-god or something. Like some demi-god son of Zeus or some such.
Gina is watching me with a half-smile flirting about her face. “Listen,” she leans in close. “Reece is professional, he’s not going to do anything to make you uncomfortable. But I get he’s gorgeous. So…enjoy it. You’ve got to write the love story stuff, right? Use him as your muse. It’s going to be warm, but tell him you need some firewood chopping and hope he takes his shirt off.” She laughs.
“Oh, you’re loving this, aren’t you? You crack yourself up. Did you plan this?”
She sobers instantly. “Don’t be silly. There are other teams I can call. If you want me to? I called these guys because I worked with them before. They are hard bastards, all of them. Trained to the hilt. To be honest, Reece is probably the best out of the bunch for this job because the other three all need a personality overhaul. Liam and Ethan in particular. Oh, and if you think Reece is hot, thank the Lord you don’t have Luka looking over you.”
I raise an eyebrow. She glances behind her, in the direction of the toilets, then swipes at her phone a moment before holding up a picture of a guy with dark hair, sad eyes, and a face so gorgeous he could have been a movie heart throb.
“Oh, okay.”
“Yeah. He’s lovely,” she sighs. “But he’s loved up now, so he’s off the market. Listen, you’re in safe hands. The best. But if you can’t bear the hotness that is one Reece Trent then I will call him off and get another team put into place.”
I think about what she’s saying, and I know it would be ridiculous to take someone less well trained to protect me simply because they weren’t hot. I mean, what does that say about me? Imagine if a man sacked a woman because she was too sexy? I’d be horrified. It’s not Reece’s fault he looks like someone made my dream man come to life from clay and spun gold. Nope, that’s all on me, and I need to handle it.
Sighing, I nod at her because I know she’s damn well right. “No. Don’t do that. It’s my issue. I’ll have to woman up and deal with it.”
She glances around and from her sudden, smooth smile, I guess Reece is heading back our way and lift my gaze to see him sauntering toward us.
He reaches into the pocket of his dark jeans, and I try not to notice the way they cling to his thighs, and pulls out a set of keys, swinging them around one long finger.
“Shall we?” he asks me in his deep, smooth voice.
My stomach does this odd little flutter. The sort of thing I’ve not felt in years, maybe decades. I smile, glance one more time at the safety net that is Gina, then gather up my bag, and with butterflies rioting in my stomach, I follow Reece out the door, after giving Gina a quick hug and promising to call.
Reece heads to a big, expensive looking black car with tinted windows. To my surprise he opens the passenger door for me. I climb in as it thuds shut with an expensive thunk.
Once he climbs into the driver’s seat and pulls out of the car park, I find myself making inane conversation to try and dampen my nerves.
“Nice car,” I say.
“It’s a rental,” he replies.
“Oh. What’s your car?”
He glances in the rear-view mirror, then at me briefly.
“I’ve got a couple, and a couple of bikes. Motor bikes, I mean, not push bikes.”
“Oh, okay.”
Silence. A silence I can’t stand for some reason.
The thing about me is, I’m a quiet person. Fairly introverted in many ways. Not lacking in confidence, people think being introverted means being unable to stand up for yourself, it doesn’t. I simply find being around a lot of people exhausting and prefer to be in my own company, or that of a few trusted friends. I don’t chatter on for the sake of it…unless I’m horribly nervous. Right now, I’m horribly nervous.
“I used to go out with a guy who rode bikes. Scary as hell. I hated riding on the back. Never got used to it.”
“You’re not an adrenalin junkie then?” He glances at me for a nano-second.
I frown at his question, because I used to be. In some ways I still am. “I don’t know. I used to be. I did a few extreme sports. Rock climbing, some high-altitude stuff even.”
He looks at me for a beat longer this time. “Me too.”
“Yeah? Where’s the highest you’ve been?”
“Aconcagua,” he says. “How about you?”
“The Rockies for me. I’d love to go to the Himalaya one day.”
He smiles. “Yeah, me too. Thing is though, I’m not actually a great fit for high altitude stuff, build- wise, but I still love it. Takes its toll, though.”
I glance at his body, nope. He’s too big, all that weight to haul up in thin air.
“Do you ski?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “Not into it. Tried snowboarding, it’s okay, but I prefer to get out hiking and climbing. I like diving, too.”
“Me too.” I almost clap my hands together like a child. “I love to dive, it’s a real passion, and I like a good hike. It’s great for it around here.” I point vaguely out the window. “Of course, I can’t go now. Not now he’s back.”
Reece makes a grunting sound and turns right onto a smaller road. He’s heading toward the house I’ve rented under a false name. It’s a small place, inland from the coast, with views out over the hills from the back garden and the mountains too from the side. I love it, but not as much as the holiday cottage I own on the coast. That’s far too dangerous to visit right now, though. The perverted freak stalking me most likely has a list of the places I own.
“Where are you from?” I ask Reece. He’s got a slight southern accent, but not a strong one.
“Near Reading. But I’ve lived all over the place for a lot of years, travelled so much with the forces I never felt I called anywhere home, you know? I love it here, and North Wales. Go there a lot, know parts of it like the back of my hand. I always tell myself I’ll live there one day. Currently, I live in Yorkshire. A group of my friends live there, and we set this business up together.”
“The protection work?”
He gives a nod. “And some other stuff, too. But mostly close protection.”
“Do you get many famous people?”
“Nope. We’re not minders, although we do short term jobs when dignitaries visit. Often, it’s to do with state visits, or the sort of people with real power but who most of the population have never heard of.”
“Must be a comedown babysitting little old me then?” I give a laugh.
He shoots me a sideways glance. “Not really. I love your books.” A tiny tinge of color hits his cheeks, under his tan.
“You read my books?” I’m flattered. Call me silly, but he’s a real-life hero, and I love that he’s read and enjoyed my writing.
“Yeah. I like them. Of course, I thought you were a man then. I doubt I’d read them now I know you’re a lady.” He throws a wink my way to let me know he’s joking, but all I can focus on is the smile lines fanning from his eyes, and the dimple peeking out of the scruff on his cheek. He hasn’t got a beard as such, but he’s got full-on, thick stubble. His hair is a dirty, dishwater blond and his stubble a touch darker. I expect his hair would look darker too, if he cut it, and took the sun-kissed bits out.
I turn away and stare out the tinted window at the sunny day, which looks gloomier through the dark glass. He’s hot, but he’s way out of my league, younger than me too, I think. So maybe Gina is correct. I can simply have a harmless crush on him and use him to feed the muse. Let my creative juices get flowing. I smirk at the double entendre and then close my eyes, letting the movement of the car lull me as we head back to the place where I am holed up.
Trapped.
Waiting.
Because I know pain and death are coming for me.
I can feel it in the air around me, taste it on my tongue. I hope the big, scary body Reece comes housed in is as capable as it looks, because I think they are going to be put to the test sooner or later.