Fire Bound (Sea Haven Sisters)(10)

“Good morning, Tomasso,” Lissa said.

His gut tightened. He didn’t like the little purr in her voice. She had acknowledged him every single time she saw him, just as she did every other worker on her uncle’s estate, but somehow, the way she treated him was very different. The way she watched him. So closely, as if she knew he was something other than what he appeared.



He was wary of her now. He didn’t let his unease show on his face. His cover was solid. His character was solid. His accent was perfect. He had a history, and even he believed he was Tomasso Dal Porto.



Casimir inclined his head, his dark gaze sweeping over her a little insolently. She didn’t rise to the bait as she usually did. Her eyes would get even bluer and her mouth would set in a perfectly sensual line right before she delivered some reprimand, although he was fairly certain she wasn’t aware of that. His alarms shrieked at him that he was in trouble in more ways than one. “Good morning, Signorina Piner.”



She pressed her lips together. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Lissa?”



He shrugged. “It isn’t done.” None of the other bodyguards would dare be that familiar with her. Her uncle wouldn’t like it. He wasn’t about to get singled out. He didn’t like that she had begun, over the last two days, to insist he call her by her first name.



She leaned closer to him, her mouth near his ear. If she’d been taller, she could have touched him, but her head came up to the middle of his chest. “Coward,” she murmured softly. So softly it would be impossible for anyone else to hear had they not been alone in the room.

He didn’t reply. He kept his expression completely blank, giving nothing away. Damn, but up close she was even more potent. All that bottled-up passion in her wild, blue gaze. Her hair felt like silk where it brushed his arm. He didn’t have physical reactions to women, yet he found himself having to fight his cock. Just with the warmth of her breath and her scent surrounding him, he was growing hard. Full. Without permission. Something he hadn’t done since he was seventeen and had been lashed so many times, the lash tearing open his flesh until he learned total discipline and control over his body.



“I’d like to take a walk around the grounds, and I need you to accompany me.”



There was a slightly imperious note in her voice. She wasn’t asking. He raised an eyebrow and managed to stand straight with a fluid graceful movement that brought his body right up against hers deliberately. He felt her breath hitch. Her vivid blue eyes went wide and then deepened in color. He had the mad desire to see what happened when he thrust deep into her and made her come apart for him. He let that show. Just for a moment. A glimpse, no more.



“I like that you need me, Signorina Piner.” He kept his voice low. Sensual. Pouring meaning into his choice of words. Deliberately baiting her by using her surname.

Faint color stole up her porcelain skin. Her skin was a work of art, yet he was certain no painter would ever do it justice. He held her gaze a long moment and then he smiled and indicated she precede him. Lissa stared up at his face a heartbeat longer and then she turned abruptly and headed for the door. He didn’t walk beside her, but fell into step behind her, annoying her even more.



He liked to watch her walk. She was always silent. Graceful. He couldn’t imagine her ever stumbling. She moved like a ballet dancer, fluid and poised. Confident. She was small and even slight, but he was observant and he could see the way her muscles moved beneath her amazing skin. She had a great ass, and he liked the way she swayed when she walked, the material from her long skirt shaping and falling suggestively. She was a very sensual woman. She turned heads everywhere she went, but he hadn’t noticed her flirting with anyone. The closest she ever came was with him, and it wasn’t flirting. Just that small reaction she couldn’t always hide.

She led the way to the gardens and then stopped and waited for him. There was a definite challenge on her face. Her chin had gone up; the blue eyes narrowed. “Which one are you?” she demanded in English.



He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re asking me,” he answered in fluent Italian. Perfect accent. He looked like a native. He acted like one. His movements were flawless. He never stepped out of character. Never.



“Yes, you do,” she hissed. “I’m not playing this game with you. Gavriil contacted you, didn’t he? And don’t you dare lie to me or I’ll go to my uncle and have him throw you out so fast your head will spin.”



Gavriil, of course, had initiated the contact with him and supplied him with all the information necessary to shadow Lissa Piner, but she couldn’t possibly know that. None of his brothers would ever give him up to their women, no matter how enamored with them. They were used to protecting one another, and he was on assignment.