Page 16

Speaking of evil, my mind whispered automatically as I took in the man who had just entered. Tall and muscled, his entire being screamed ‘do not fuck with me’ as he slid off mirrored aviators and spoke quietly to the hostess. He was encased in black from head to toe, like the devil incarnate, except for a glint of silver around his neck where a thin chain hung beneath his fitted t-shirt. Black jeans hugged his hips and thighs like sin. Black biker boots that were clearly not for show. Black hair, a dusting of black stubble. A hint of black ink peeked out from his shirtsleeves.
The man was clearly trouble... and I’d had enough to last a lifetime. I tried to avert my gaze, honestly I did, but I just couldn’t.
The hostess said something back to him, then began to lead him through the restaurant.
Straight toward me.
All of the air around me seemed to vanish as they stopped next to my table. The hostess said something else to him, then moved away, leaving the tall dark stranger standing next to me expectantly.
He cleared his throat. “Olivia Creed?”
Holy Mary, even his voice was coated in chocolate-covered gluttony.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze toward his, taking in the strong cords of his throat and his prominent Adam’s apple, firm jaw, ruggedly imperfect nose, and...
I stifled a gasp.
I was expecting dark as night eyes to go with the rest of him. Nope. Instead, pools of nearly incandescent crystalline blue stared back at me, so light and clear I could’ve dove in and gotten lost in them.
“Ms. Creed?” he said again when I didn’t respond.
“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry.” I offered my hand. “Olivia. And you are...?”
He slid in across from me, dropping a manila folder into the booth next to him before he took my hand, the heat of his large palm engulfing mine. “Justin Ashford. Hollow Point Security.”
“Right.” I swallowed as I was hit with a double punch of his scent. Sandalwood and a hint of spice with a healthy dose of testosterone. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ashford.”
“Justin works.”
I nodded. “Justin.”
The waitress appeared then, and he ordered an omelet and black coffee. I waved her off, too nervous to eat.
“Do you always eat breakfast for lunch?” I asked him, those same nerves getting the best of me.
I’d give it to the man of ice and steel, he didn’t crack a smile. “I’ve learned you eat what a place is known for. Hard to go wrong that way.”
I nodded. “Interesting.”
“Smart.”
“Right.” I wiped my hands on my jean legs and tried again. “So, how do we do this?”
A dark brow winged up. “Do this?”
“Yeah. This.” I indicated the table and space between us. “I mean, I’m sure you’re used to doing security for big famous people like my brother all the time, but I’m just a mom and dance teacher who lives in a small three-bedroom in Dodge. I’m not...” I blinked away the unexpected and embarrassing burn of tears, never more grateful for the interruption when the waitress returned with his coffee.
He waited until she was gone and sipped, then returned his eerie blue gaze to mine. “You’re not what?”
I steeled my spine. “It doesn’t matter.”
Unblinking, he took me in, making my pulse jump in my veins. Everything about him felt supremely controlled and calculated. Glacier cold. “You’re right.”
“I’m . . .” I blinked, surprised. “What?”
“It doesn’t matter. You could be a drugged-out hooker in a trailer park or the president of the United States.” I felt pinned to my seat by both his words and his frozen stare. “I’ve been hired to protect you, and that’s what I’ll do. With my life if necessary. End of story.”
“Just like that?”