Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(27)

A number of packages Margo ordered had arrived, and only after he checked out each box had he given the okay to keep them. That had annoyed the hell out of her. But like he’d told her, he wouldn’t take any chances.

A text came in on his phone. It was from Stonewall and the text simply said,

Nothing new to report.

In a way, that was good news. He and Margo had been together inside her house for almost a week and they were about to go stir-crazy. Cabin fever was getting the best of them, and their moods and attitudes were beginning to take a nosedive. It was hard trying to ignore the sexual tension whenever they were around each other. More than once he’d caught her staring at him and vice versa. The lust between them was mind-boggling, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Hmm, maybe there was. Now that Quasar had finished up his last assignment, Striker could ask him to relieve him for a few days. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t do that. He’d given Roland his word to protect Margo. Not that Quasar wasn’t capable of doing it, because he was. But Striker didn’t want another person protecting Margo. So here it was, the beginning of a new day, and just like he did every morning, he needed to get his shit together before facing her.

First off, he needed to clear his mind of all those dreams he’d had last night. The ones where he’d jumped her bones a number of times. Best sex dreams he’d ever had. So what if he’d thought about being inside her body? Had imagined her calling out his name during one hell of an orgasm? His thoughts in the wee hours of the morning were nobody’s business but his own.

Standing, he headed for the bathroom.

*

FULLY DRESSED IN jeans and a pullover sweater, Margo took a moment to collect herself before opening her bedroom door, knowing what she would find on the other side. As usual, Striker would be there, leaning against the wall, waiting on her. And like always, she would fight to ignore the surge of desire that consumed her upon seeing him first thing in the morning. Why did he have to look so good and why did seeing him continually bring on flickers of longing and need?

And why couldn’t she forget about that kiss? It wasn’t like it had been her first, and she doubted seriously it would be her last. Why was she thinking that Striker’s short kiss ran rings around Scott’s long ones? Whoever thought all kisses were the same hadn’t kissed Striker. She didn’t want to compare him to Scott but couldn’t help it. Scott was a chauvinist and would never apologize for being one, especially when he saw it as a quality a woman should admire.

Margo had a feeling Striker didn’t have a chauvinistic bone in his body. A woman was his equal and he would protect her with his life and not try to deliberately play on her fears like Scott had done. But, on the other hand, the one thing Striker and Scott did have in common was their stubbornness. Today she was prepared for a fight after telling him she needed to leave the house. The thread that had been delivered for Claudine’s gown wasn’t the exact color she wanted and she knew of one local craft store that had what she needed. She would use the truce they’d shaken on a few days ago in her favor. He had agreed to be flexible, hadn’t he?

She would break the news to him over breakfast. Regardless of how he chose to handle things, she intended to go to that store, with or without him. As far as she was concerned, she’d been locked inside this house long enough and needed to breathe in clean, fresh air. The forecasters predicted a hard freeze at the end of the week, and she wanted to at least spend a few hours outdoors while the weather was halfway decent.

Opening the door, Margo saw Striker standing there as always. How did he always time it to exactly when she would be walking out of her bedroom? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he had ultrasonic hearing or something.

His body looked hard and muscular leaning against the wall. Feminine awareness invaded every part of her and she couldn’t help the primal reaction of her body kicking in right then. She was well aware of the exercises he did each day. She knew he was putting her treadmill and stationary bike to good use every night before he went to bed. He also jumped rope a lot. More than once she had glanced out of her workroom and seen him doing so in her kitchen, which afforded him a lot of room.

The moment their gazes met, acute recognition passed between them, stirring something hot and carnal in the pit of her belly. She couldn’t help but admire the way he filled out a pair of jeans, and that T-shirt looked real nice on his chest. And those tattoos that ran up the length of his arms were interesting and made him look so formidable but in such an appealing way. For a minute her breath wobbled in her throat. She should still be upset with him because of the way he’d all but terrified the delivery guy yesterday when he’d dropped the packages off at the back door as usual. Not only had Striker almost shoved a gun up the man’s nose, but he had searched through all the boxes before letting her accept them.

“Good morning, Striker.”

“Good morning, Margo.”

Their usual greetings were exchanged before she moved toward the stairs. Desire clawed at her as he followed. Just knowing he was a few steps behind her had more heat curling in her stomach. When they made it downstairs, she turned to him and said, “We need to talk.”

“Before or after breakfast arrives?” he asked.

Before she could answer, a text came over Striker’s phone. He checked it. “Our breakfast is on the way. We’ll talk while we eat,” he said.