Page 49 of Protect and Serve

“You do?” Her grin was decidedly impish. “Do what?”

Oh hell. She was a minx. Angling for a declaration like that, all beautiful and naked and warm. He caught her gaze and held it and then said in the most solemn tone he could manage, “I do love you, Claire. I hope that doesn’t…scare you.”

She nuzzled closer and huffed a laugh. “I’m very brave. I think I can handle it.”

Nice to know, but not what he really wanted to hear. “Do you… Do you think you might have feelings for me too? Because if this is just a physical thing, if there’s no hope for more, I think we should end it now.”

Her eyes, bright and questing, searched his. “Are you issuing an ultimatum?”

His pulse lurched. “That was not my intention.” Hell. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. “It’s just…”

“What?” The fact that she stroked his hair didn’t help.

“My feelings for you are not…casual.” He took her hand, threaded their fingers. “And I don’t know if I could be in a casual relationship. I need more.”

She was quiet for a moment—an eternity—and then she tightened her fingers and whispered, “My feelings aren’t casual either.”

Oh thank God. Not a declaration, but not a rejection either.

It was something.

Hell, it was close to everything.

He met her gaze again. “So, shall we proceed?”

“Yes.” She kissed him, oh so gently, and then whispered, “Sir.”

Chapter Thirteen

The rest of the weekend was glorious. Unlike anything Claire had ever experienced. Oh, her brothers still called to check in, but only twice, which she thought was very restrained of them.

As for her and Charlie, they explored.

And not just the physical aspect of their relationship—although there was quite a bit of that, including some things that would make her brothers’ hair stand on end, but she was hardly going to report back. They also spent hours talking, exchanging views, sharing stories. He made her laugh and awed her with his tales of life as a soldier in enemy territory.

He proved he was an excellent cook and endeavored to teach her how to fry an egg. It didn’t go well, and they went through nearly a carton before she managed to crack one without breaking a yolk. Still, he was patient and encouraging and all the things she’d ever wanted in a man.

In fact, he was perfect.

They connected on every level, emotional, physical, intellectual and spiritual. She wanted nothing more than to continue exploring for the rest of their lives.

She was especially intrigued by his passion for kinky play. Probably because he approached it as a devotional. He gently wrapped a scarf around her wrists and tied it loosely to the headboard—so she could get free if she wished. And then he made love to her with an exquisite touch. He tormented her until she begged, but it was a glorious torment and the orgasm he incited was beyond anything she’d ever known.

He was clever, introducing her slowly to this kind of play and then, bit by bit, taking her deeper into it. And she loved it.

But she was still determined to tie him up.

It was wholly unfortunate that they happened to be in the middle of a naughty-secretary-slash-dominant-businessman scenario in her office when her brothers returned. Claire was bent over the desk, awaiting her “punishment,” when she heard the car door slam.

Charlie heard it too. “Fuck!” he snarled, lurching back to peep out the window. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Claire leaped up, yanked her panties on, pulled down her skirt and stared at him in horror. He scrambled to fasten his jeans. It was amusing, but she knew better than to be amused. “Quick,” she cried. “Into the kitchen!”

It was the first thought that came into her head, and it was inspired. The mess from breakfast was still there, so it was easy to pretend they were in the midst of making something—though what it might be, she had no clue—when everyone tromped in.

She forced a bright and innocent look on her face. “Well hey there,” she chirped. “How did it go?”

Her brothers didn’t respond right away, they simply stood there looking at the disaster on the countertops.