Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(73)

She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, and more than anything, she wanted to be held in his arms tonight.

He leaned in the doorway for a minute and stared across the room at the bed and her in it. For the longest time, their gazes held and he didn’t say anything. Deciding to break the silence, she asked, “Everything looks okay?”

He nodded, pushed away from the doorway and came into the room. “Yes.”

She watched as he took off his gun and shoulder holster and then slowly crossed the room to place both on the nightstand. As usual, seeing them was a stark reminder of the danger she was in. The assassin was still out there, and until he was captured, her life remained in turmoil.

“I got a call from Stonewall.”

“Any new developments?”

“Nothing new regarding the Erickson case. But Stonewall has been in contact with Detective Ingram, and a sting for Freddie has been set up. Hopefully by this time tomorrow it will all be over.”

Margo hoped so. More than once today she had been tempted to call Scott, but she knew doing so would ruin everything. Striker had asked her to trust him enough to let him handle things and she would. More than anything, she appreciated how he’d taken charge and known whom to contact. He’d reassured her that everything would be alright. And now, thanks to Striker, Freddie would be walking into a sting operation the police had been brought in on. Whether he knew it or not, he was more than a protector to her. He’d become her hero.

“I need to shower,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.

“Alright.” He headed for the bathroom. That gave her hope they would be sharing a bed.

Margo shifted positions in bed when she heard the sound of the shower going. She had gotten so used to having Striker around that she found comfort in his presence. A part of her couldn’t help wondering how she would handle things when he was no longer her protector.

*

AFTER REMOVING HIS CLOTHES, Striker stepped under the warm spray of the shower and tilted his head back. The water drenched his face, body and skin. He drew in a deep sigh as the water washed away some of the day’s stress, but it did nothing to rid him of all those sexual thoughts he was having of Margo in that bed. She was naked beneath those covers, he was sure of it. And for her not to suggest that he sleep elsewhere meant something, didn’t it?

He cursed under his breath when he thought of that call from Freddie Siskin. Striker had meant what he’d told Margo about wanting to kick both Siskin’s and Dylan’s asses. What decent man would do something like that? Make a sex tape of his and his lover’s intimate encounters and then give it to someone to expose her if she didn’t pay up?

Although Striker didn’t know Dylan, he couldn’t see him being involved in extortion. Not only could he lose that job he thought so much of, but the bastard could end up in jail. That made Striker wonder if perhaps Siskin was once again doing something stupid without telling Dylan about it. If that was the case, it would be up to Dylan to prove his innocence if Siskin was arrested.

And Striker was sure Siskin would be caught. Everything had been coordinated with Stonewall and the police. Just like he said he would do, Freddie had called back in four hours and Margo claimed she had returned to town and agreed to meet with him the next day.

While Freddie thought he’d be meeting with Margo, it would really be an undercover police officer impersonating Margo. Since Margo and Freddie had never officially met, he wouldn’t know the impersonator wasn’t Margo. And just in case Freddie had seen a picture of Margo, the undercover police officer would be someone with similar features to Margo. The officer would be wired, and if there was any discussion of exchanging the tape for money, Freddie would be arrested. Margo’s uncle had been apprised of what was going on, just in case he also received a call from someone trying to extort money. Stonewall was coordinating things with Detective Ingram, and Striker had no doubt they had everything in hand.

As he lathered his body, he remembered Margo in that bed. Why were all those flutters going off in his stomach? He knew the score. There never would be anything between him and Margo but this. For him it was a need that wouldn’t go away. A need that had him wanting her every time he looked at her, picked up her scent or touched her.

But still, some inner part of him knew that although he enjoyed having sex with her, it was more than that. It had to be. And that was what scared the shit out of him. There was her smile that could light up a room, and then her frown that somehow had an alluring appeal. Even her nosy bones no longer bothered him because he accepted them as a part of her. On top of all that was her ability to care, sometimes too damn much. And she’d told him that she admired him, of all things. Other than Shep, no one else had ever told him that. He had felt her sincerity when she’d said it. He knew better than to let her opinion of him go to his head, but it had. She was becoming important to him, and that wasn’t good. There was a war going on inside of him, and he wasn’t sure which side he wanted to win. A part of him wanted to believe that, if given time, something serious could develop between them. He could prove to her that he was a better man than those two asses she’d been involved with in the past. He would appreciate her, treat her the way a woman should be treated.

But then another part of him was afraid to even consider such a thing. The voice of reason wanted to convince him that when his protector gig with Margo was over he should keep walking and not look back. Looking back would be too risky. He could end up losing both his heart and soul. The thought of actually loving someone and losing them like he’d done with Wade and his mother would destroy him.