Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(6)

Try him? Margo swallowed deeply while thinking, How? With what? And for how long? She snapped back to her senses when her uncle came around to verify the man’s identity and said, “Show me credentials.”

Although the man gave her uncle a look that all but told him what he could do with the credentials he’d asked for, the man shifted his duffel bag into the other hand before pulling an identification card from his jacket pocket. She and her uncle looked at it. Lamar Jennings. So Striker wasn’t his real name. And he worked for a Summers Security Firm. There was a nice picture of him, but the real thing standing in front of her was so much better. Almost too much. Far too pleasing on any woman’s eyes. His nutmeg-colored facial features were way too mesmerizing. Way too captivating to even be considered merely handsome. Definitely riveting. She noted there was nothing soft about him and detected a hardness that would kick ass first and ask questions later.

Her uncle handed the ID card back to him. “Come on in, Jennings.”

“Striker,” he corrected him, not moving an inch. It was as if he needed to establish a few things up front and what he wanted to be called was one of them.

Her uncle didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he would. Although he often accused her of being stubborn, Frazier Connelly could be just as stubborn. Even more so. The two men stared hard at each other, and then, as if her uncle had decided it would be in his best interest to be the one to concede, he said, “Okay. Come in, Striker.”

She stepped aside when he walked past her and she closed the door behind him.

“You come highly recommended,” her uncle was saying, extending his hand out to the man.

“Do I?” Striker replied, accepting her uncle’s handshake.

“Yes, and this is my niece, Margo Connelly. The woman I’m depending on you to keep safe.”

He turned his dark, penetrating eyes on her. She could feel a deep stirring in the pit of her stomach when he extended his hand out to her. “Ms. Connelly.”

Margo accepted his hand and suddenly an intense rush of desire tore into her. It took everything she had not to snatch her hand back. She’d never met this man before. Didn’t know a thing about him other than that he’d been hired by her uncle. Yet she was attracted to him. She’d heard of sudden attraction but had never been the recipient of it, until now.

Even though he was impeccably dressed in a business suit, she detected a rough edge. And she suspected if the need arose, he could be lethal. As far as she was concerned, lethal and good-looking was one hell of a combination. She was a woman and there was nothing wrong with appreciating a well-muscled, nicely built man when she saw one.

“Mr. Jennings,” she said, pulling her hand from his.

“Striker,” he corrected her.

Instead of acknowledging his correction, Margo didn’t say anything, not sure she could find her voice even if she’d wanted to. At that moment a semblance of heated desire fanned low in her stomach. On top of that, her mind was still reeling from the sensations caused from their handshake. She felt irritated wondering what in the world was going on here. Putting the appreciation thing aside, it was totally unlike her to be this affected by any man. Although she relished eye candy like any other female might, she’d never let a man bring out the lustful side of her. In fact, to be totally honest, she hadn’t been aware she had one until now. She hadn’t been involved with a man since Scott. And that had been her choice. Her passion was her work and it superseded any intimate feminine needs. She’d learned not to place any man at the top of her pedestal.

That decision had come about after her last two serious relationships had left a bad taste in her mouth. Her attitude was that she didn’t need a man to be happy since all they seemed to do was disappoint her anyway. She liked her life just the way it was. Uninvolved, unattached and drama-free. At least it had been drama-free before the Erickson trial.

As Margo continued to study the man who’d entered her home, she had a feeling she was in a heap of trouble that had nothing to do with any assassin’s attempt on her life.





CHAPTER TWO

STRIKER WONDERED WHAT the hell was happening as he dropped his duffel bag on the floor by the sofa. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt instant attraction to a woman. But he had with this one and could still feel the heat from their handshake. Roland should have warned him that Margo Connelly was such a looker. The woman standing before him was so incredibly beautiful he’d almost gone speechless when she’d opened the door.

The moment he had gazed into her face he’d been sacked by an intense desire that had somehow infiltrated his mind. That wasn’t good, especially when she was the woman he’d been sent here to protect. And, of all things, she was Roland’s niece.

He scanned his surroundings, needing a few moments to clear his head, specifically to unblock his brain. Doing so was a whole lot safer than looking at her again. He’d seen enough already, liked too much of what he saw. Besides striking features, she had a nice body—curvy hips, nice thighs, and the shape of her breasts outlined beneath her shirt was pretty damn appealing. And when she’d closed the door he had gotten a look at her tight and shapely backside. His gaze was also drawn to her mouth longer than it should have been, a mouth that appeared as lush as any he’d ever seen.

He’d known he was in trouble the moment he’d detected her staring at him through the peephole. A funny feeling had settled in the lower part of his body. The last thing he needed was a woman arousing him.