Page 11

SINCLAIR

Smiling, I step out of the small discreet door that hides one of Manhattan’s best kept secret wine bars behind it.

“Thank you. Tonight was just what I needed.”

“Me too.” Julian grins. “You’re a wonderful woman, Sinclair. Come on, let’s get you a cab.”

“It’s okay, you go. I’ll grab one.”

Julian looks uneasy, so I raise my arm as we walk along the sidewalk, signaling a cab, which pulls over.

“See? I’m good.” I smile, and he leans in to kiss my cheek.

“I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” I beam as he walks down the sidewalk.

It’s later than I intended to stay out, the night sky a deep inky black.

But once Julian and I got talking, time just flew, like it always does.

Every time I see him, I feel better. Our meetings bring something to life inside me.

I can’t explain it, but I feel like meeting him six months ago was one of the best things to happen to me in a long time.

I turn back to the cab, but someone else has jumped inside and it’s already pulling away.

“Damn it,” I mutter.

I walk along the sidewalk looking for another cab, but every time one drives past its light is out, signaling it’s already picked up a fare.

Something grabs me from behind, spinning me around until my back presses into the wall of a building. The air is pushed from my lungs in a surprised yelp. A body looms over me, leaning in close.

Holy shit, I’m being mugged.

Blood rushes in my ears as the dark-hooded shape towers over me, so close I can taste mint on the tip of my tongue.

“What. The. Fuck?” a voice growls.

“D-Denver?” Relief washes over me, and I wilt against the wall, pressing a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

He pulls the hood down that was hiding his face in shadows. Harsh green eyes penetrate me, making me feel naked.

“You should be scared! I could have been anyone, Sinclair!” he roars, banging his fist on the wall next to me.

I flinch. I’ve never seen him so mad. His eyes are boring into mine like two green flames.

“What are you doing here?” I choke out.

He places both palms against the brick on either side of me, leaning toward me until he’s so close our noses almost touch.

“I went to your apartment, and you were gone. You were fucking gone!”

“I’m fine, I?—”

His nostrils flare. “Who was he?”

“What?”

“You know I’ll find out. Who was he? Your boyfriend?”

“What? No, he’s?—”

“A guy you’re fucking, then?”

I reel back, but it only makes my back press harder against the wall. “Excuse me?” I scoff.

“Are you having sex with him?” Denver’s tone has lowered to a whisper, but it only makes him sound more menacing.

“That’s none of your business!” I snap, finding my bite again. “How dare you follow me and then ask me that.”

His chest expands as he sucks in a breath. But he doesn’t move away. He stays firmly fixed in front of me, caging me in between his arms.

“It’s my job to pro?—”

“Your job! God, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?” I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“Sin—”

“I just needed to do something alone. Can’t you understand that?” I search his eyes. Maybe there’s a glint of guilt there, but he blinks it away before I can be sure.

“It’s not safe,” he growls.

“How did you find me? You can’t have followed that stupid tracker you put in my phone because I left it behind on purpose so you wouldn’t be able to.”

A muscle in Denver’s cheek twitches so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t burst a blood vessel.

“You mean you planned this? You wanted me not to know you were out, with some guy I haven’t run any checks on? How could you be so stupid? How do you know you can trust him?”

“I’m not stupid,” I spit, shoving his chest again. “I know Julian.”

Denver’s eyes narrow at my slipup. Still, there must be thousands of Julians in the city; he won’t know who he is or how to find him. Julian will be in one of the last places Denver would think to look.

“How did you find me?” I ask again.

Denver shakes his head, glancing up the street.

“Den—”

“I will always find you, Sinclair.” He turns back, pinning me under his gaze. “Do you know why?”

“No,” I whisper.

His brows pull together and he leans even closer.

“Because you’re my responsibility. I’m your bodyguard. And that means I have to know where you are at all times. You won’t be going anywhere without me again. Got it?”

“You expect me to be with you all the time?”

“You will be with me. No more playing games and sneaking out, Sinclair. This is your safety we’re talking about. If I have to cuff you to me, then I’ll do it. You don’t want to test me.”

“Excuse me?” I scoff.

He parts his lips again, the straight edge of perfect white teeth glinting in the moonlight.

“You belong with me ,” he rasps.

He pushes away from the wall, freeing me from the shield his arms had made around me. I take in a big gulp of air as he turns his back on me. My heart gallops in my chest from the shock of him grabbing me. But it’s also beating somewhere lower too… deep between my thighs.

Leaning against the wall, I catch my breath, taking him in. He’s wearing a black hoodie and sweatpants. I’ve only ever seen him in suits. Somehow it makes his broad back look even wider than usual.

He clears his throat and extends a large hand behind him, toward me.

I stare at it until he looks back at me, his eyes darkening.

Wordlessly, I slide my fingers inside his.

They’re immediately enveloped in solid warmth as he closes his hand around mine.

I trail behind him as he marches me over to his car parked at the curb.

He opens my door for me and pulls me toward it using our joined hands.

“Get in.”

I blink at him, hovering by the opening. He looks down, his pupils dilating as if he's barely keeping the storm within them at bay.

“In,” he growls.

I swallow nervously and move to climb in, but he jerks me back with our joined hands, pulling me into him.

My other hand flies up to his chest to steady myself.

His heart is pulsing in a deep steady rhythm beneath the muscle, and I press my fingertips into his flesh on instinct, like I need to feel more.

His eyes lock on mine.

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like this again.”

He lets go of my hand, and I slide into the seat, breathless.

He doesn’t give me a moment to get comfortable before he leans in and fastens my seatbelt, pulling it tight across my hips.

The door closes surprisingly softly. I was expecting him to slam it.

Then he takes long purposeful strides around the hood, climbing into the driver’s side, his face like thunder.

“I wasn’t in any danger,” I whisper as he pulls out into the lane.

His expression remains taut as he stares out of the windscreen.

“I really wasn’t. I took a cab right to the door. And I was about to get another one back when you… when you grabbed me.”

“Did I hurt you?” His face is still rigid, a direct contrast to the concern creeping into his tone.

“What? No. You have this way of touching me that’s strong and in control, but so gentle at the same time. I should have known it was you the second I felt your hands on me.”

His jaw ticks.

“Denver?” I press, wanting a response. Needing a response.

He still won’t look at me.

My shoulders sag, and I sink into my seat, folding my arms.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I mutter.

But my words don’t make Denver look any less pissed. In fact, he looks more murderous. I resort to silence for the rest of the drive.

It’s a tense ride up in the elevator to my apartment. Denver chooses to hold my hand again instead of placing it on my lower back like he usually would. Maybe he’s worried I’ll bolt and try to go somewhere without him again.

I open my apartment door and Monty races over to greet me, quickly going to Denver after. Denver’s already standing back up from petting him when I turn around.

“Den—”

“Lock the door,” he instructs gruffly.

He holds my eyes. There’s no warmth in them, and something about it makes my stomach drop to my feet. I nod and close the door and fix the lock.

He’s already walked away by the time I look through the peephole.

I wake up at seven-thirty to the sounds of scratching and whimpering.

“Monty?” I yawn as I sit up in bed and stretch.

He’s not in his usual place at the end of the bed where he likes to creep up and sleep in the middle of the night. He’s done it since he was big enough to climb up himself. But I’ve never stopped him. I think we both needed the comfort of not sleeping alone.

I swing my legs out of bed and go in search of the noises he’s making. The marble floor in the hallway is cool beneath my feet as I pad over to the front door where he’s lying on his tummy, his nose stuck to the base of the door, taking long sniffs.

Something in my gut twists as I step closer and look through the peephole. I don’t see anything to start with, until I look down.

Denver’s sitting with his back against the door, legs out in front of him, giant arms folded over his chest. I can’t make out much more from this angle, but I think he’s asleep.

“Monty, speak,” I whisper.

Monty looks at me, then barks, like I’ve taught him to on command.

“Good boy. Speak,” I command again.

He barks again, his tail flying around in circles as he looks at me with bright eyes.

I peer back through the peephole and the dark mass has moved and is now standing up.

I fling the door open.

“Did you sleep there in case I snuck out again?”

Denver’s rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, but stops to take me in.

His eyes slide down my bare legs then back up over the T-shirt I’m wearing with ‘I love my Chinese-crested dog’ printed on it.

He stares at it and my nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric.

He’s seen me walk around in lingerie at work, yet somehow my dog T-shirt is the thing that’s gotten his attention.