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For Her Protection-An Alpha Romance(3)

By:Amber Bardan


"Well thanks for the-"
         

     



 
He got out of the car.

"Ride … " She whispered to herself.

The door next to her opened. She glanced up and got out of the car. He  followed her to her front door. For someone so surly, he sure was doing  the whole gentlemen bit too well.

"Thanks for the ride home." She turned her back to the front door. "And for not letting me get run over."

He stared at her with narrowed violet eyes.

"My name's Charlie."

He kept on staring. Her pulse skipped. Damn, he was big. Bigger when she was between him and the door.

"For Charlize. Because, I'm a girl."

His lips curled to the side, the first hint he experienced real amusement. "Yes, you are."

Her middle flared with heat again. Yes, she was a freaking girl. A fact  her subconscious had obviously needed to remind him of. The stubble  coating his jaw was the same length as the hair on his head, and she  couldn't help wanting to touch it. Wanting it to scrape her palm.

"Stay out of trouble, Charlie." He stepped back, freeing her of the thrall of his closeness but didn't leave.

Trouble? If trouble was making out with a man like him, she'd take all the trouble she could get.

She let her gaze flirt over him. No man had never worn a pair of blue  jeans quite so well. They clung to his broad hips and thick thighs. His  black t-shirt was just tight enough for his pecks to make an impression.

"I can't make any promises."

She turned and unlocked her front door, opening it and stepping inside,  before facing him again without closing the door. Her heart gave a  little flip. If he wanted to visit she wouldn't stop him.

Possibly, she'd let him right on in.

But he just stood, unmoving and brooding, until awkwardness forced her to close the door-and bolt the lock.





THREE


Freaking fantastic.

Charlie thumped her head once, then twice on the steering wheel. A picket line. Workers protesting impending mass job cuts.

How did they even find out?

The decision to close two more factories in favor of overseas  manufacture, a decision she'd fought tooth and nail, had only been made  on Thursday.

She hit the turn signal and veered left away from the crowd. She  wouldn't be able to park in her usual place, she'd have to find a space  in the rear lot. Her father would die if he understood exactly what had  been done to his legacy.

Dad had built a company based on loyalty, people and family. Her uncle  claimed he'd be the one to drag Halifax into the twenty-first century.

She pulled into the parking lot, wheels kicking up a cloud of dust in  the crushed-rock driveway, then eased into a free space and cut the  ignition. She pushed a pair of glasses up her nose and pulled on her  suit jacket, doing up the single button under her bust and made her way  briskly to the pavement.

Chants jolted through the air. Dammit, she should've snuck in the back  exit. Hopefully the crowd wouldn't notice her. She reached the entrance  and walked closely behind a couple of guys from the mailroom. Workers  jeered, shaking signs. Two security guards struggled with the crowd.  They'd need to up the security detail if this continued.

A few feet from the entrance someone called her name. The crowd roared  but she kept her head up, her pace steady. She reached the doors and her  muscles relaxed. A sharp force impacted the back of her skull. She  jolted. Pain radiated into her brain and she clutched the back of her  head, stumbling inside.

In the foyer she lowered her hand in front of her face. Sticky red blood streaked her palm.

"Are you alright?"

She glanced up at Jenny, the front desk receptionist. "I think so. Call Bob down here please."

Holy crap. As the public face of Halifax, she'd been getting abusive  messages for months. Now it seemed like things were really about to get  nasty …



Charlie held the cold pack the first aid officer had demanded she keep  applied "for no less then fifteen minutes" against the back of her  skull.

"Two security guards, Bob? That's all we have for dozens of protestors?"

Bob adjusted his tie. "You know how Frank has been about hiring new staff at the moment."

Yeah, and one point on which she actually agreed with Frank. This damned  economy. It was impossible to justify hiring anyone for the office when  factory workers were losing jobs en masse.

"I wish I could just go out there and tell them it's going to be  alright … " She glanced out the window, watching two girls from accounting  struggle to get into the building. "But we're going to have to look  into a security firm. We were lucky it was only me hurt today."

"I'll make some calls." Bob stepped forward and placed his hand on  Charlie's shoulder. "Don't give yourself such a hard time. There's no  magic wand."         

     



 

She placed her free hand over his wrinkled one and gave him a tight  smile. Thank god for Bob. He'd been her dad's best friend and was now  one of the precious few board members who didn't seem set on watching  her go down in a blaze of flaming glory.

"Thanks, Bob." She released his hand and then took the elevator to the  top floor. She collected herself in the bathroom and fixed her hair  before heading to her office.

Melanie sat behind Charlie's desk, swinging the chair from one side to the other. "Hey, doll."

"Hey, yourself." She took off her jacket and hung it on the rack beside her door. "Comfortable?"

Melanie stilled the chair and grinned. "Just trying things on for size, Madam President."

"You know you could easily quit and be President someplace else?"

"I don't think the world is ready for that." Melanie tugged at the pearl  necklace perfectly accessorizing her white power dress-feminine and  badass.

Charlie laughed and took the seat on the other side. "Probably not. First President then total world domination."

How the hell did Melanie manage to get in early, and also look like she'd just stepped out of a Chanel advertisement.

She'd gone to a little extra effort today herself, and arrived nearly  half an hour later than usual as a result. Did people actually blow out  their hair before work every-single-damn-day?

"You're looking foxy today." Melanie leaned her forearms on the desk. "Is there a meeting I don't know about?"

"Nope." She ran her palms over the fitted black knit blouse, she'd  paired with yet another pencil skirt. "You're the DUFF that's what  happened." She cringed on the inside. No neither the bosom enhancing  shirt or her hair were going to erase Friday night from her mind, but  dressing up was a little confidence boosting act of defiance. Reminded  her the only opinion that really mattered when it came to her looks-was  her own. And today she let herself feel good. "Just felt like mixing  things up a bit."

"How'd you go with Blake on Friday?"

Charlie fished for an answer. Blake. Spew. She'd prefer not to remember his name. It was surprising enough Melanie had.

"Oh crap, that bad?" Melanie's gaze scanned hers. "I'm so sorry, you should have tugged your ear."

Charlie waved her hand. She didn't need Melanie feeling guilty for that debacle. "It was nothing. Just total lack of chemistry."

"Ah, well there has to be chemistry."

Chemistry. That hot melting feeling she'd had with her silent brooding  barbarian. The hot melting feeling flaring back to life in her middle  just remembering him. Except he hadn't been interested in coming inside  when she'd made it clear he could.

He hadn't even told her his name.

Barely said an un-grumbled word to her.

"Chemistry is over rated." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "There's  nothing worse than having amazing chemistry with someone only to find  out they have no personality."

Melanie burst into laughter. "Doll, when the chemistry is really good there's no talking or personalities required."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "I assume you weren't waiting in here just to compliment my outfit, or discuss my abysmal sex life?"

"Well, I wanted to give you a little heads up before you hear it somewhere else … "

Oh, shit.

Melanie gave a reassuring smile. Never a good sign. She wasn't a PR  magician for nothing. She could make, "Hey, your hair is on fire." sound  more like, "You're looking a little flushed today.".

But not even her magic, spinning of "We're taking work offshore," to  "We're provide industry leading products at rock-bottom prices," could  convince the people whose lives got screwed in the process.

"Jives Tech decided they'd like to investigate other avenues for raising capital."

"Fuck." Charlie closed her eyes. Jives Tech pulled out of the  acquisitions deal they'd worked on for months. "We needed their sales  channels to expand our market. And they have no other avenues, they're  about to fold."

Melanie pulled herself out of the chair, and walked around the desk,  then patted her shoulder. "Sorry, wish I had better news on a Monday  morning."