Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(70)

Striker also knew that he and Margo enjoyed each other sexually. He especially liked it when after making love he kept his finger inside of her, giving her an extended sexual experience while watching her face as she had another orgasm.

So where would all this lead? He knew the answer without really thinking. Nowhere. And as far as he was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that as long as they both understood. They would enjoy themselves today and not worry about tomorrow.

She had her issues with men. Although he didn’t have issues with women per se, he doubted he could ever become attached to someone that way. Especially someone he could love. Where their well-being was solely in his hands.

He’d screwed up once and wouldn’t let such a thing happen again.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

IT WAS NEAR daybreak when Striker and Margo made it to their final destination. She walked into the cabin, rolling her luggage behind her while taking in her surroundings. “This place is beautiful, Striker. Who owns it?”

He stood beside her. Stonewall had sent someone ahead to stock the refrigerator and pantry with food and start a fire in the fireplace. Since the location of the cabin was more than an hour’s drive from Charlottesville, while they were here Quasar would not be delivering food. They wouldn’t risk him being followed. For now they were on their own.

“Jace Granger.”

Margo looked up at him. “Jace Granger? Where have I heard that name before?”

“Probably from the media. Jace is the oldest son of Sheppard Granger.”

Recognition showed in her face. “Sheppard Granger. Isn’t he the guy who was locked up all those years ago for killing his wife and was freed last year when the real killers were apprehended?”

“Yes. They are one and the same.”

“It was sad how an innocent man could have been sent to prison that way.”

“Happens all the time,” he said, moving around the room and looking around.

“And Roland knows Jace Granger?”

“We all do.” One day he would tell her just how well he knew the Grangers and how Sheppard Granger was the closest thing to a father figure he’d had in his life in years.

“Let’s put our stuff away and I’ll show you around,” he said.

“You’ve been here before?”

He smiled, recalling the memories. “Yes, I have.”

“With another client?”

Did he detect jealousy in her voice? Did she think he’d spent time here with another female client? “No, I was here as a guest of the Grangers.”

He saw curiosity in her eyes and knew her nosy bones would soon surface and the questions would start. “Come on and let me get you settled. Then I intend to cook breakfast.”

*

MARGO WALKED OUT of the bedroom after unpacking. Although she and Striker hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, the fact that he’d placed his duffel bag in the same bedroom she would be using spoke volumes.

She’d gotten an idea of where they were when they’d passed a sign for the Shenandoah National Park. They had driven through miles and miles of wilderness and up the Blue Ridge Mountains. She’d been surprised by the look of the cabin they’d pulled up to. It wasn’t rustic, but rather it looked more like a beautiful chateau in the mountains.

Striker had given her the tour of the place once they’d settled in. It had two stories with the second floor overlooking the first. The walls were made of stained wood and the downstairs was spacious, with an open concept. The large kitchen was meant for someone who loved to cook and the dining area seated a big family. The living room was enormous, with a huge fireplace on one wall and a wide-screen television on the other. Rugs scattered throughout gave the place a lived-in feel, while the silk plants that looked almost real added foliage that wasn’t grown in this area. The greenery enhanced the inside scenery and complemented the outside. For convenience, a separate set of stairs led from the second floor down to a fully stocked wine cellar.

What she liked most was that the entire back wall was made of glass and provided a panoramic view of Streater Lake and the Blue Ridge Mountains. The sun had just been rising as she stood at the windows. It had been a beautiful sight.

She stopped walking and sniffed the air. Rounding the corner, she found Striker in the kitchen, standing at the stove fixing breakfast, with his back to her.

She just stood there, taking in all his male perfection. His stance drew her gaze to the width of his shoulders and all those rippling muscles that extended down his back. Muscles his shirt only enhanced. She wondered if Striker had any clue just how much he oozed raw, animal sexuality. The thought of just how well he could back up that quality in the bedroom sent shivers through her entire body.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at my backside or are you going to volunteer your services in the kitchen?”

Margo chuckled. Did the man have eyes in the back of his head?

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said as if she was definitely undecided. “I like looking at your backside.”

He turned to her. “I liked seeing your backside as well. And I also like looking at your front, preferably naked.”

The man had a way of sending blood racing through her veins. And since they’d taken the wall down between them, they weren’t holding back in expressing their desire for each other. “You sure you want my help?”