This time, the definite growl sounding from behind me is unmissable. I take a small step backwards at the same time as Archie steps forwards, his hand, in all its hot and heavy glory, returning to the base of my spine. Goosebumps rise again, but this time, they can definitely be attributed to an intense, albeit inappropriate, six-year attraction.
Harrison’s gaze finally turns to Archie. I introduce them purely to avoid answering Harrison’s question. ‘Archie, this is Harrison. He’s in my year at college. This is my new security detail, Archie Mason.’
‘The way he’s hovering over you, I thought he was your father, or your dog.’ Harrison guffaws at his own joke and while he’s busy laughing, my own mind falls into a deep rabbit hole. There’s only ten years between us, but if Archie wanted me to call him daddy, I wouldn’t be averse.
Control yourself, woman. I blame romancenovels. Who knew daddy kink was a real thing?
‘If I were her father, I’d tell you to get your fucking hands off her,’ Archie hisses, swiping Harrison’s fingers from where they’re still lingering on my arm.
Harrison sniggers, eyeballing Archie with an antagonising smirk. ‘Oh, this one is definitely more protective than the last few you’ve had.’
Not a good idea.
I once saw Archie put down four bouncers at a nightclub in Dublin purely because they leered at Sasha in what he deemed to be a disrespectful manner.
I turn to Archie. ‘I’m wrecked after the last few days. Maybe we should go?’
His thumb strokes my spine. It’s a tiny fleeting gesture, but impossible to miss when every single one of my nerve endings is tuned into his touch. ‘With pleasure.’
Pleasure would be the right word, if you’d be open to it.
‘See you at the hospital, Harrison.’
Archie’s lips curl upwards. Harrison’s curl down.
Outwardly, my own lips remain neutral. Inwardly, they tingle with a longing so fierce it aches all the way to my toes.
6
ARCHIE
The sweet, enticing scent of strawberry shampoo is inescapable in the SUV. At least while I’m driving, I have a legitimate excuse not to look at her. It’s exhausting keeping up this wall between us, but that’s the way it has to be for me to protect her.
It just takes one split second, one tiny distraction and it’s game over. That lesson was delivered the hard way on my final tour with the British Army. I couldn’t save my men. But I can and will save Victoria if it comes to it.
The journey from the Meadows is silent.
As I indicate left on George Street, heading for Victoria’s house, I’m still smarting from being looked down on by that jumped up pretty-boy prick in the pink shirt and drainpipe fucking chinos. Every stitch of his clothing screamed wealth. Every word he uttered screamed self-important wanker. ‘Who was he?’
‘Who was who?’ Victoria asks with a voice a little too innocent to be genuine.
Apparently, she’s going to make me drag it out of her.
‘Park here.’ She gestures to a rare free spot on one of the side streets.
‘Here? Why?’ My foot lightens on the accelerator and the vehicle slows.
‘I said I wanted to go, but I didn’t mean home.’ Her face tilts in my direction. I know because her minty breath brushes my cheek.
I parallel park with a sigh. This woman is going to be the death of me.
‘You said you were wrecked after the last few days,’ I sigh.
Her slim fingers skim over her chest. It’s official, she’s trying to kill me. ‘Yeah, my head is wrecked, not my body.’
That body. I know exactly how to tire it out. In another life.
One where my job isn’t to save hers.
