Drawing in a slow, deep breath, Brynnon took a second to compose herself. Between their earlier argument, her brother’s ridiculous behavior, and her overactive hormones, she wasn’t sure what she was.
“You worried about me, big guy?” She turned to face him.
“It’s in my job description.”
There it was again. The job. Tired of feeling like she was walking on eggshells around the man, Brynnon decided to go for broke and just ask.
“Is that all I am to you, Grant? A job?”
Not expecting the question, Grant blinked. He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it. When he started to open it again, Brynnon realized hearing the truth would be worse than not knowing. At least if she didn’t actually hear him say it, she could still hang on to the fantasy a little longer.
“Never mind.” She shook her head. “Forget I said anything.” Stepping past him, Brynnon started back for the dining room. “We still have to go to the hospital after this and I can’t be late, so we should probably—”
A large hand grabbed her wrist, interrupting both her words and her forward progress. Glancing down to where his fingers gently held her, Brynnon tried to ignore the electrical current burning its way through her thin sweater.
“Brynnon, wait.”
Grant must have felt the same, thrilling jolt because he let go of her arm as though she’d shocked him.He does feel it.
“I’m not...” he started to speak. Brynnon watched his large Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed before beginning again. “I’m not the man for you.”
She forced herself not to react to those disappointing words. “Really?” Brynnon stepped closer. “Tell me, Grant. What kind of man do you think I need?”
He shook his head, and for a minute, Brynnon expected him to shut down and walk away. Instead, he stared down at her, showing a side of himself she thought she’d never see.
“I want you, Princess.” Heat flared behind his gray eyes. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”
Holy crap.“W-why shouldn’t you want me?”
Running a hand over his scruff-covered jaw, he glanced away before bringing his eyes back to hers. “Too many reasons. And like it or not, thisisa job. Your father hired me to protect you. Not sleep with you.”
Brynnon’s most intimate muscles clenched. Just hearing him talk about it left her wanting him even more. Feeling bold, she lifted her chin and asked, “Why can’t you do both?”
Grant’s chest swelled, and his nostrils flared, their topic of conversation affecting him just as strongly. Even so, he came back with, “Having sex with a client isn’t just unprofessional, it’s against policy.”
“Policy?”
“It’s put in place for a reason.” Grant swallowed again. “Look, Bryn. We come from two different worlds. In yours, you screw something up on the job, it may take longer for you to sell a house. I fuck up, someone dies.”
“Except I’m not in any danger. We’re on day three, and there’s been nothing. How long are you going to continue to watch me before you admit to my father—and yourself—that this assignment is completely unnecessary?”
“I will watch over you until my boss tells me otherwise.”
Hoping he’d take the bait, Brynnon decided to throw him a line. Licking her lips, she asked, “And after that?”
Looking conflicted, he shook his head. “I already told you. I’m not the—”
“Man for me. Yeah, I got that. It’s too bad, really.” She shrugged. “I think we could’ve been great together.”
Refusing to come off as needy—any more than she probably already had—Brynnon turned and started back down the hall. “I’m going to tell Dad we’re leaving.”
She made it a few steps before facing him again. “Oh, and Grant?”
Still standing where she’d left him, the frustratingly sexy man gave her a low, “Yeah?”
“Those neat little lines you’ve drawn for yourself are great and all. But if you don’t cross one every once in a while, what’s the point?”
His brow creased. “The point of what?”
