“Go ahead, Hellsing,” I muttered under my breath, casting a glance at the front door, half-expecting him to come waltzing in with that irritatingly smug grin. “Try me. I dare you.”
GRACE
Jameson wasn’t happy at all about what happened. My father let me know that I couldn’t call the police until I got word back from him. It was Jameson’s decision on what to do moving forward in order not to put attention to the Royal Bastards. Mind you, this was my store. To make matters worse, my father had gone through with his word and asked them to send Hellsing. So now, not only did I have to wait to put a claim in with the insurance and send the cops after that jackass, but I was stuck with a biker babysitter I never asked for, one I really,reallydespised.
Hellsing.
The sound of his boots against the old wooden floorboards made me tense up before I even looked up. Those unwanted butterflies fluttered in my belly, and I pushed the feeling deep down. He didn’t deserve any type of fluttering from me. Besides, it was probably my growing anxiety. It had been years since I’d last seen him and I wasn’t sure what to expect from him. I was no longer eighteen and innocent, I’d grown up since then.
He sauntered in like he owned the place, all lean muscle and sharp attitude. That weathered brown leather cowboy hat cast a shadow over those bright blue eyes of his, and a toothpickrolled lazily between his lips, flashing a little bit of tongue as if the world was his playground. He was wearing my father's long black leather overcoat with the RBMC patch on the right arm, subtle but enough to make people think twice about crossing him.
And damn if the man wasn't gorgeous. Dark curls fell to just below his neckline, he had a sharp nose, thick beard over a hard chiseled jaw, but his attitude was enough to make me want to hex him into the nearest swamp.
He leaned against the counter, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Well, ain't this cozy. You runnin' a little love spell business now, Grace?"
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I glared at him. "I don't need to sell love spells to morons. But I could whip one up to make you disappear."
His grin widened and that lazy Louisiana drawl dripped with sarcasm. "Now, darlin', that's no way to talk to the man sent here to protect your pretty little ass. You oughta be thanking me. I could be out ridin', but instead, I'm stuck here babysittin'."
"Babysitting?" I snorted, flicking a strand of dark auburn hair over my shoulder. Why did he always make me feel like such an inexperienced teenager with a crush, I was twenty-eight! "Last I checked, I'm a grown woman. Don't need some cowboy with a death wish following me around. Go play pretend outlaw somewhere else, Hellsing."
I watched his eyes flash with amusement, and a spark of something seductive lay beneath those dark lashes. The look sent a hot thrill down my spine, and I took an involuntary step back. He, on the other hand, took a step closer. The scent of leather and amber clung to him, and I refused to let him see the way my heart skipped a beat from his proximity.
"Pretend, huh?" His voice dropped low as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes slowly roaming over me, lingering a little too long on the low neckline of my tank top.
He licked his lips and my breath caught. "Careful, Grace. You wouldn't want to piss off the wrong outlaw."
I arched my brow, refusing to back down. "Or what? You'll sic your Prez on me?"
The smirk on his lips faded just a fraction. "Nah, sweetheart. If I have to handle you, I'll do it myself. Up close and personal."
There was something dangerous in his tone, and my pulse raced against my will. But I wouldn't let him see that. Instead, I played into it, leaning close enough that my breath brushed his cheek. "You wouldn't last five minutes with me, Hellsing."
He was close now, too close, and I hated how aware I was of him. The heat radiating off his body, the slow roll of the toothpick between his teeth, that flash of tongue that made me wonder what he tasted like. "Five minutes, huh?" His voice is low, taunting. "Sounds like a challenge, princess. You gonna try me?"
I gritted my teeth, hating how much I wanted to slap that cocky smirk off his face. Or maybe kiss it off. Damn him. "I don't have time to deal with your ego. So how about you go play biker somewhere else and let me run my business in peace?"
Chuckling, he turned to play with a cracked jar on one of the shelves. That deep, rich, infuriating sound sent heat right down to my core.
"Oh, I ain't goin' anywhere, Grace. You're stuck with me, gorgeous, like it or not. Bloody Scorpions want a piece of you, and I'm here to make sure they don't get it. Prez’s orders."
“I’m not afraid of you and least of all yourPrez.”
“Reeaally?” He made sure to drag the word out.
“You can let him know he’s on my shitlist as are you.”
He let out a boastful chuckle. “I’m pretty sure he’d get a kick out of that.”
I rolled my eyes again, turning back to my potions, ignoring how good he looked in that worn leather jacket. "Please, Hellsing. I can handle myself. I don't need some arrogant prick watching over me."
“Is that right,” he turned to me and we stared at one another for a long moment, the electricity palpable.
“That’s right,” But as I said it, something shifted in the air around us.
I caught a quick, worried glance from him, right before the light in the shop flickered and dimmed and the temperature dropped suddenly. I froze, every one of my instincts screamed that something was wrong. Hellsing stiffened beside me, his body tensing.
“You feel that?” He whispered.
