corrected.
“I’m not seeing much distinction,” she muttered, even though she knew what he meant.
“It’s just for a little while.”
She shook her head. “You can’t know that. We don’t know who’s doing it or why. You said you don’t even know if the bomber is targeting Lila or me. There’s no way to know how many more murder attempts there will be. What are you going to do, quit your job and become my full-time bodyguard? How much will you charge?”
He didn’t seem to have an answer. Somehow, his uneasy silence was more frustrating than his earlier confidence.
She rubbed the aching spot over her right eye. “How certain are you that I need someone guarding me from inside my house?” she asked aloud.
“Very,” he answered simply.
It was such a bad idea. She could see any number of ways things could go wrong if she agreed with Harlan’s suggestion. Most of them ended up involving mind-blowing sex and deep regrets. But what if she said no and something happened to Zachary? What if her son died because she was afraid she couldn’t resist Harlan for a few days?
What kind of mother was she if she couldn’t put her son’s welfare over her fear of her own desires and weaknesses?
“Okay,” she said, straightening and forcing her gaze to meet his. “You can move in. But we need to set up some ground rules.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I think I can guess one of them.”
She didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. “We’ve already agreed that things between us would never work. I don’t think we need to test that theory in any way.”
He frowned but nodded. “Strictly business.”
“And you can’t make unilateral decisions about my safety or my son’s. You may be in charge when we’re at work, but in this house, I make the decisions. Understood?”
“What if I can’t reach you for some reason?”
She pushed herself away from the breakfast bar and approached him where he stood in the middle of the living room. “Then I’ll trust you to do what’s best for my son and me. But if I’m here to consult, you consult me. Don’t try to hide anything from me, and don’t try to overrule me.”
His jaw twitched as if it caused him pain to agree, but he nodded again, moving forward to meet her halfway. “Fair enough. I’ll do all you ask. But there’s one thing I need from you.”
“What’s that?” she asked, trying to pretend her body wasn’t straining toward him, aching to close the few inches of distance between them.
He closed the distance for her, sweeping one arm around her waist. “You have to let me get this out of my system.”
He bent his head and claimed her mouth in a hard, hot kiss.
Chapter Twelve
But damn, it felt right. Like she was made just for him, fitted perfectly to his shape. Soft where he was hard, filling in all the empty places inside him.
Her mouth drove against his with a hunger that caught him by surprise. She clutched his shoulders, her grip strong and fierce. He felt himself losing control of the moment, hurtling into a strange void where the ground beneath his feet disappeared, leaving him with nothing to hold on to but her.
He struggled for control until he felt the ground beneath his feet again. He eased himself away from Stacy, sucking in deep breaths until the wildfire inside him began to ebb.
She stared at him from the distance of a few feet, her eyes wide and as dark as bruises. Her lips were pink and swollen from his kiss, and it took every ounce of strength he could muster to keep from closing the distance between them again.
She cleared her throat. “Okay. Glad that’s over with.”
A bubble of laughter rose in his throat. Her lips curved in response, and a few seconds later, they were both laughing.
“That can’t happen again,” she said after the mirth subsided. “It just can’t.”
“I know.” He meant the words, even as he was forced to silently admit that he didn’t know if either one of them could control whatever it was that came to life between them when they were in the same room.
And now that he’d moved in, with no way out before the governor’s fundraiser, keeping their distance was going to be harder than ever before.
“CARRIE RIVERS WANTS Vince Russo to coordinate with her own security,” Stacy told Harlan Tuesday morning as they met in his office for a briefing. She felt a little flicker of pride in how steady her voice was, even though she was having trouble thinking about anything besides how good he smelled.
She’d sneaked a peek at his toiletries the morning after he moved in and saw that he really did use nothing but soap to shower and shave. She didn’t find any shower gel or shaving lotion in his kit. Her father had been that kind of man, no frills, no fuss. He said what he meant and meant what he said, and when he’d died of a heart attack during a dangerous cave rescue, she’d felt a little piece of herself die with him.
She sometimes thought she’d been so vulnerable to Anthony’s charms because he’d swept into her life only a few months after her father’s death.
Was she falling into the same trap again with Harlan?
Not that he was anything like Anthony. Anthony had been wife-shopping when he’d spotted her at a political fundraiser years earlier. He’d never admitted it, but Stacy suspected he’d had a list of attributes he was looking for in a woman, and Stacy had fit the bill. Good academic record, clean background, calm temperament, pretty but not too pretty. Quirky backstory that could be exploited in the press-daughter of a college professor and a cave-diving daredevil who was equally at home in the halls of academia or the heart of an Ozark cavern.
“I’m sure Vince will be happy to do that.” Harlan shot her a wry smile. “Let me know when they plan to be in town and we’ll set up a meeting.”
“Actually, they’re supposed to be in town this afternoon-Carrie has a show in Lubbock tomorrow night, and they asked if they could come by while they’re in the area. Can Vince meet with them around three this afternoon?”
Harlan frowned but nodded. “Yeah, I think I can work them in. I’ll call Vince and set it up.”
“I also have a handful of names to add to the list of people who’ll be at the fundraiser, too,” she added, handing over the list she’d compiled during a meeting with the governor and Greg Merritt early that morning.
“I take it their trip to Amarillo went well in spite of the hullabaloo?” Harlan’s fingers brushed hers as he took the list, setting off prickly sparks.
Living with Harlan had proved even more frustrating than she’d expected. Just being in the room with him could raise her temperature and send her thoughts careening into dangerous territory. And when their arms brushed while they were sharing kitchen duties, or when his fingers touched hers while passing her a spoon or a magazine, she found herself having more and more difficulty resisting the urge to have one more last kiss.
She dropped her hands to her lap, clasping her fingers together to stop their trembling. “The governor said it went better than she expected.”
“That sounds promising.” Something about Harlan’s tone of voice made her wonder if he was talking about the governor’s trip. But when he spoke again, his tone was back to normal. “What’s on your agenda for the afternoon?
