She set her things on Lia's desk in the open reception between her office and others. Connor made himself comfortable leaning on a wall opposite her.
Upside of handing over her office was having an open space. Public space where people walked by to their desks. Where she wasn't going to have to be alone with brooding barbarian.
She'd accepted this bargain but how long she could handle having him so close?
His attention pinned on her. Making her feel like that's what he wanted, and not simply his job.
As though he enjoyed the way she looked more than he liked to spy.
Even though that's what he was-a dirty, dirty spy.
***
He watched Charlie arrange her things on her PA's desk.
"You're going to work here all day?" He studied her. When she'd made the offer she'd been shooting venomous barbs at Frank with her eyes.
He'd assumed she'd been making a statement in front of him.
"Yes." She punched numbers into the phone, redirecting it. Then her gaze washed back to him. "But that doesn't mean you have to stand against the wall all day, get yourself a chair for goodness sake."
He folded his arms over his chest. "I will stand."
She gave a subtle but un-mistakable eye roll.
What was she up to?
Charlie didn't trust him. She didn't want him around. Why'd she care if he was comfortable or not? His muscles tightened. Yes, he'd watched her. Except, the longer he had the less it'd been about his job.
That truth would do little to put her at ease.
Yet, he wanted to her to know. Wanted her to look at him as she had when she'd spotted him in the bar.
"Why are you doing this?"
She set down the handset. "Doing what?"
"Giving up your office and letting your assistant have her child here." He hadn't meant to snap, but his words amplified.
"She's a single mom." She said that like the statement was completely self-explanatory. Against reason, it made the agitation gather tighter under his skin.
"If you don't like the draft, why don't you go play in the security room." She shot him a sassy little smile.
"You won't be rid of me so easy." He pushed back from the wall and stalked to her desk. "You won't be rid of me at all. Think I care about a draft?" He planted his fists on the desk and leaned in. "I've stood outside in the rain for hours to watch you."
She rocked back in her chair, her eyes wide. Then she blinked, and cleared her throat. "Then why do you care which room I work in or whether my P.A brings her kid to work?"
"My mom was a single mother." He leaned deeper on his knuckles. "No one ever cut her a break." His chest thundered. "She was fired one time when I got sick."
She shifted, leaning closer, gaze glued on him.
He vaulted back. Why the hell had he said that?
"How many siblings do you have?" Her expression flickered taking him in.
His breaths didn't fill him with enough air. Why did she ask this? "One sister."
"Ah, I see." Her gaze brightened on him.
What the hell did she think she knew? "What do you see?"
"Man of the house." She flattened her palms on the desk. "Bet you never let on you were sick again after that one time." She leaned up out of her chair. "Bet you didn't cry when you got hurt. Bet you got a job as soon as you were old enough so you could take care of them."
His chest filled with pressure. The more she spoke the harder he became transfixed. Those weren't questions she asked, but statements. Correct statements. He'd been mowing lawns for change when most kids were signing nursery rhymes.
"Because that's your job isn't it?" Her voice lowered, and the foot he'd moved away wasn't enough to stop her whispered voice from cracking him between his ribs. "To take care of everyone. Protect everyone."
It wasn't pity in her expression. He'd be damned if he knew what the hell it was. For a month he'd been obsessed with this woman. A shallow, one-dimensional fantasy of something only ever glimpsed from a distance. Elusive. Fleshed out by whatever he'd wanted to pretend in the moment.
He'd imagined her sweet. But he was seeing a fuck-load of difference between sweet and kind. He'd imagined her as some repressed nice girl and thought about bending her over in her proper librarian outfit, teaching her bad girls have more fun. But having her stand there with her shrewd, compassionate gaze on him, he wasn't thinking about how soft she'd be underneath him, or how her big gorgeous tits would press against his chest. He was thinking about what she'd be like to sit next to late at night when he was usually alone. When guilt plagued him. When his own thoughts turned on him. How she'd draw out those insidious doubts, and something told him when she did he'd never be alone in the same way again.
"I need to go to the security room." He backed away. That pretty, soft looking girl-nothing had ever terrified him like she did then. "Try anything while I'm gone, and I will hunt you down and drag you back."
"I know," she whispered. Almost like she couldn't resist.
***
Connor strolled back into her office about the same time most staff members were heading home. Lia and Xavier had left an hour before. She'd fled back to her office, aware of every move she made at Lia's desk, where security camera's reached.
He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. She hadn't seen him since his detective friend turned up to take her statement.
She continued with her phone conversation, her pulse turning to a rush. "Thanks, Anthony, if you can recover the information, I'd be most grateful."
The head of the IT department issued a guarantee that he'd do his best to find the information that had seemingly disappeared since the last time she'd looked at it.
Her skin prickled. Connor continued to stare. She probably shouldn't have said what she had to him.
His past wasn't her business. He worked for her. He was on the job.
She should try to be professional. Except when he's asked about Lia, when he'd told her about his single mom, he'd been Connor Crowe and not Conan-The-Silent-And-Impenetrable.
But the way he looked at her now, wary, she doubted he'd ever be so unguarded around her again.
She pushed back from her desk. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes, I am." He leaned off the door and the was no doubt with way he moved now, what he was hungry for. "Are you hungry?"
Her stomach clenched. She couldn't look away, her attention hooked on his every move. "Starving."
She couldn't lie either. That kiss had done something to her. Opened a door she hadn't bothered opening since the last time her heart got broken.
Why bother taking a risk when she could focus on work?
Except he was at her work. There was no place to hide.
He stalked toward her.
Charlie backed away from her desk. Her heart spurted frantic energy through her system. He reached her but she didn't give him a chance to do whatever he planned to do. She leaped back until she hit the wall. He slowed, watching her. Did he think she didn't want him to keep coming? She froze and looked at him. A muscle pulled under the skin of his temple. Did he know how frightening is was to let him know she wanted him? He might not like her the same way. This could all be a game. A ploy from Frank.
She ran her gaze over his face, the deep blue of his eyes, the strong bridge of his nose, his wide lips.
Lips that made her want to run her tongue over them, see how deep the sliver of softness she'd glimpsed ran in this hard man. He reached her, but just stood there, a whisper away.
She reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, then dragged him in.
His stillness dissolved. He kissed her. His mouth opened, capturing her tongue and sucking deeply before pushing his own between her lips. Her body hummed, the need she'd suffered since meeting him, wracked her. He moved, his body crushing hers against the wall. He grabbed her hands, pressing them back to the wall and sank his tongue farther into her mouth, leaving no crevice untasted.
She opened to him-melting-arching-desperate. He squeezed closer, his body grinding against her.
Then, in one sudden movement, the heat and hardness against her were gone. He moved away from her.
She scrambled to regain control of herself. Her head swam, words escaped her. She wasn't sure what just happened. He still looked at her as if he were about to eat her alive. His gaze stalked her, stripping her, penetrating through her skin.
A sound pierced her raging thoughts. Her phone. Her fucking phone was ringing. She grabbed the handset, and listened to Anthony's update. "Sure, well thanks for trying."
She slammed her receiver down, then flopped into her chair, unable to meet his gaze again.
"Hey, doll-"
She glanced up.
Melanie stood in the door, mouth half opened, gaze fixed on Connor who stood two feet from Charlie's desk. "Hope I'm not interrupting?"
"Not at all." She took a steadying breath. "Melanie, this is Connor Crowe from Crowe Security. He's my bodyguard."