Blood Vow (Black Dagger Legacy #2)(39)

As she fell silent, he cracked his knuckles one by one. “I can’t help it.”

“Being defensive? Why wouldn’t you have been. I put you on the spot.”

“No. Being attracted to you.”

Elise tried to look calm as her heart skipped in her chest. But Lord help her, she nearly let out a giggle.

Straightening her spine, she decided to man up. “That’s okay. I can’t help being attracted to you.” As his head whipped up, she rolled her eyes. “Come on. It’s pretty damn obvious.”

Axwelle cleared his throat. “So you’re the psych pro. Don’t you think that means we shouldn’t work together?”

“At least we know what the issue will be instead of having to discover it.” There was a pause. “Okay, that was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh.”

When he didn’t even chuckle, she—

The snort he let out was probably one of the most unattractive sounds she’d ever heard in her life, part wounded gopher, part grizzly bear, part old car backfiring. And then he cursed and slapped a palm over his mouth.

“Oh, my God,” she blurted, “that is frickin’ adorable.”

Across the way, on her girlie bed, with its pretty coral bedspread and the framing drapes of fabric that hung from a medallion on the ceiling, the fighter in his black clothes and bandaged face and his kill-ya-soon-as-look-at-ya affect turned the color of a stop sign.

“I burped. That’s all.” He stretched his back and rolled his shoulder as if he wanted to remind himself he was packed with muscle. “Look, I’ve never done this bodyguarding thing before, so I don’t know what to expect with any of it. I think the question for you is, are you willing to bet your life on me? ’Cuz that’s what it all comes down to. We could go a hundred nights without anything happening, but it just takes one where something does. And then you’re not screwed—either in a sexual or a bad luck sense—you’re fucking dead.”

“Do you doubt yourself?”

He frowned. “You want the honest truth?”

“Always.” She held up her forefinger. “I want to go on record right now and say this loud and clear. I always want the truth from you. That’s more important to me than anything else—for reasons that you’ll no doubt come to understand.”

He cracked those knuckles again. Rolled his other shoulder.

“Personally, I think my attraction works for us—I mean, you. It increases my protective nature and will make me more lethal. I’m not bonded to you, and I won’t ever be, but I am male, and in fact, I’m so much more raw than the overbred pansies you’re used to dealing with. So, yeah, anyone tries to so much as brush the ends of your hair with their elbow, and I will kill them four times over before I light their corpse on fire.”

“Well, isn’t that something to put on a Valentine’s Day card.” Except he probably had a point. “And listen, I firmly believe we aren’t what we think, we’re what we do. You and I will keep things professional on a physical level and all will be well.”

Axwelle got to his feet in a rush. “Okay, text me when you need me tomorrow. I can work until one a.m., but then I have training.” He nodded, in a way that made it seem as if they had shaken hands, and then he went for her door. “I’ll show myself out—”

“Wait, so my schedule—”

“Just let me know.”

Boy, he’d had it with the conversating, hadn’t he.

“We can do this, you know,” she told his strong back. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“You say that now.” He opened the door wide. “Let’s hope at the end of it, however long it lasts, you feel the same.”

“Wait, I need your cell phone?”

He spoke the digits over his shoulder like an afterthought and then he kept on going through the jambs without seeming to care whether or not she caught them.

But he did care.

Underneath all that hard-as-nails exterior, he wasn’t as blasé as he wanted her to believe. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sat down and talked to her at all.

Heading over to the bank of windows that overlooked the front of the mansion, she pulled back the lacy privacy curtain and waited. A moment later, Axwelle emerged from the grand entrance, marching off down the slate walkway.

“Look at me,” she whispered. “Come on … you know you want to.”

In the back of her mind, she was oh-so-aware that self-righteous speeches about professionalism and self-control to the contrary, a part of her really wanted the male to pull a John Cusack on the front lawn.

Which was nuts.

And not as in clinically insane.

More as in a road she shouldn’t go down, given their circumstances.

The good news? As he continued to stride away from her house, he clearly wasn’t going to—

Axwelle stopped about fifteen feet past the third lantern on the walkway … and he stayed where he was for the longest time. Years, it seemed. Just before she was going to either give up or go down to see if that head injury she’d asked about had finally decided to make an appearance … he pivoted on one boot and glanced back.

His chin lifted as if his eyes were traveling up to the second floor.

With a squeak, Elise jerked back out of sight and let the curtain fall into place once more.