"Of course. I have it here.”
Through the security hole, she watched him hold up his ID for her to see. But before she could even process what she was seeing, he spoke again.
"Take a screenshot and send it to Leo Parker or if you prefer, my boss, Logan Bishop. Take your time and don't open the door until you're completely comfortable that I am who I say I am."
She was already impressed by his professionalism and attention to her safety. Quickly, she captured the image and sent it to both Logan and Leo. Within moments, both men confirmed that Aldo Caspani was indeed Logan's employee and could be trusted.
Taking a deep breath, Willow unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
Her first impression hit her like a physical force. The man standing on her doorstep was not just tall. He was imposing ina way that seemed to fill the entire doorframe. Clean but well-worn jeans stretched across powerful thighs, and heavy work boots suggested someone who was used to being on his feet in challenging conditions. His fleece-lined jacket was practical rather than fashionable, the kind of gear chosen for function over form.
But his face truly captured her attention. His hair was closely shaved on the sides with a strip of dark hair down the middle. The style might have looked ridiculous or like someone was trying too hard for a tough look on another man, but on him, it seemed perfectly natural. The sharp angles of his face, the intelligent glint in his dark eyes, and his sheer physical presence created an aura of quiet competence that didn't need any artificial enhancement.
Her writer's imagination immediately began spinning scenarios. He could be the brooding hero of a motorcycle romance, all leather and danger and protective instincts. Or perhaps the fierce warrior from one of her Celtic historical romances, the kind of man who would fight armies to defend what was his.
She realized she was staring and felt heat creep up her neck. "Welcome, Mr. Caspani. I'm Willow." She stepped back from the doorway, suddenly uncertain of the protocol for inviting a stranger into her home, even one she'd hired for protection.
"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Thorton." His voice carried the same calm authority she'd heard through the intercom, but now she could detect a gentleness that seemed at odds with his intimidating appearance.
"Please, call me Willow."
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment, a gesture that seemed characteristic of his minimal communication style. "I'm Aldo, but most people call me Casper."
Her eyes widened with curiosity, and she smiled for the first time that morning. "I want you to be comfortable in my home, so I'll call you whatever you prefer. If your friends call you Casper, then that's what I'll use, too."
Another slight nod indicated she'd given an answer he appreciated.
He didn’t appear to need much casual conversation, and she was grateful to note that he didn't seem starstruck or overly impressed by meeting her. Too many people in her past had either treated her like a museum piece or tried to become her best friend within the first five minutes of meeting her.
She watched as he bent to unlace his boots. When he straightened and stepped out of them, setting them neatly beside her door, she noticed he was wearing thick wool socks, similar to the ones she had on. It was another practical detail that somehow made him seem more human and less intimidating.
"I'll take your jacket and hang it in the closet," she offered, gesturing toward the coat closet near the entryway, "or you can hang it right there if you prefer." She indicated the wooden coat tree that stood beside the door.
"This will be fine," he said, unzipping his jacket and shrugging it from his broad shoulders before hanging it carefully on the coat tree.
With the jacket removed, Willow could see the fitted black T-shirt underneath, stretched across a chest and shoulders that spoke of serious physical conditioning. When he pushed the sleeves up slightly, revealing muscled forearms marked with what looked like the edges of tattoos, she had to make a conscious effort to keep her gaze focused on his face rather than cataloging the impressive physical specimen standing in her entryway.
Having spent years being objectified and reduced to her physical appearance, she was determined not to do the same thing to him. But she couldn't deny that Casper was striking in a way that had nothing to do with conventional Hollywood handsomeness. He was rough around the edges and undeniably masculine, with a quiet intensity that made her feel safer just having him in the same room.
"Would you like some coffee?" she offered, gesturing toward the kitchen. "I just made a fresh pot."
"That would be appreciated," he replied, following her deeper into the house.
She glanced behind her and found his gaze moving over the surroundings, and realized he was more interested in her security needs than in looking at her. She let out a soft sigh of relief, glad to see he was the professional Leo had described.
Once in the kitchen, Willow stole glances at this man who would be sharing her space, protecting her life, and quite possibly changing everything about her carefully ordered world. In the few minutes that she had been in his presence, he certainly gave off don’t-fuck-with-me vibes.Or maybe don’t-fuck-with-me-or-mine vibes.She pressed her lips together, knowing he just might become a muse for her writing.Wouldn’t Aaliyah love that?
As she poured his coffee and fixed another cup for herself, she smiled. The morning had started with anxiety and uncertainty. Now, with Casper's solid presence filling her home, she felt something she hadn't experienced in weeks… the possibility of being genuinely safe.
8
Casper followed Willow toward her kitchen. His trained eyes automatically cataloged exit points, sight lines, and potential vulnerabilities even as he struggled with an unexpected reaction to the woman walking ahead of him. She moved with a natural grace that seemed unconscious, her long blond hair catching the light streaming through the windows.
When she'd opened the door, his first intention had been clinical and professional. He needed to assess the principal, establish rapport, and begin the security evaluation. But the moment he'd looked at Willow Thorton, something had shifted in his chest that had nothing to do with the job.
She was more beautiful in person than any photograph could capture. The camera had caught her features, but it had missed the way intelligence sparkled in her blue eyes, the subtle strength in the set of her shoulders, and the lift of her chin. And her smile… the genuine warmth in her smile gave him pause, mentally stumbling over what he needed to do next.
Yet underneath that strength, he sensed something fragile and carefully protected. It was as though she'd learned to guard herself against the world, and he wondered if that had started when she was young. The combination left him feeling oddlyoff-balance, a sensation he wasn't used to experiencing on any assignment.
