Muscle for Hire(56)

“I’m looking forward to this,” he said

He pressed the button for parking level four without looking at her. Nor did he say a word or cast her a look for the duration of the descent. By the time the doors opened with another soft chime, Rowan’s heart was slamming so fast and hard in her chest she wondered if—given the fact she’d survived an explosion only that day—she should call a doctor? By the time she stepped out into the parking level, she was almost gasping.

“Over here, Mr. Rhodes.”

The familiar voice jerked her attention to her left, and she found Jeff Coulten, the most affable member of Chris’s formal entourage, standing beside a blue Audi SUV, his hand on the rear passenger door’s handle.

“Let’s go. Or do you need me to carry you?”

Rowan snarled at Aslin’s question, shucked her elbow from his grip and stormed over to the SUV.

It would have been all so impressive if she could have made the journey without stumbling mid-distance.

Aslin slipped his arm around her waist before she could fall too far to the side. It was all Rowan could do to keep walking forward. Her head ached, her ears still sung and her body was telling her under no uncertain circumstances had she been beat up. But at the firm contact of Aslin’s hand on her hip, all worry about remaining on her feet vanished.

For the first time in her life since her parents’ murder, she allowed herself to lean on someone.

“It’s going to be okay, love.”

Aslin’s low murmur drew her gaze up to his face and she swallowed at the undeniable tenderness in his eyes.

“Is it?” she whispered.

“I won’t let it be any other way.”

And then they were at the Audi. Jeff asked how she was in his usual amiable way, Aslin helped her into the backseat and her body told her she needed to rest.

But she didn’t want to rest. All she wanted to do was wrap her aching, bruised body around Aslin and make love to him until she couldn’t move at all.

“You okay?”

She lifted her gaze, finding Aslin sitting beside her in the back. His eyebrows were knitted, worry on his face. A distant part of her mind told her he was wearing his emotions much more openly then when she’d first met him. The British super soldier slash muscle for hire she’d encountered on that first day, a lifetime ago, wouldn’t have let anyone see what he was feeling.

He paused clipping his seatbelt, studying her face. “You do realize you’re being a stubborn pain the arse, right? Not staying here?”

She let him see her smile. “I do.”

His answering smile was crooked. “As long as you know.”

Thirty minutes later, they were pulling to a stop outside the Sydney Hilton, Jeff filling in the silence the whole way there as only Jeff could—with a constant chuckled narrative about the world around him.

Rowan was glad for it. There were words in her head that wanted to come out, words like I and love and you. Every time she looked at Aslin sitting beside her, his focus fixed on the road ahead, his sublimely muscled body held tense and alert, she wanted to press her cheek to his chest. She wanted to smooth her arms around his torso, let herself surrender to the strength and protection he wanted to give her, and tell him she loved him too.

Oh God, she wanted that.

But that want, that need was beyond any she could bear. So instead, she welcomed Jeff’s constant chatter, ignored his rather questionable driving skills and sat silent.

Knowing she would soon be alone with Aslin in his room.

A room in one of Sydney’s more prestigious establishments. “I still say this is swank accommodation for a bodyguard,” she commented, looking at the very luxurious exterior as the valet opened her door.

“Where did you think I would stay?” Aslin’s deep rumble behind her made her tummy flutter. “A Best Western?”

She shot him a quick glance over her shoulder. “So Blackthorne pays you well then?”

“Blackthorne pays me very well. Look it up on the Forbes Top 100 Highest-Paid Bodyguard List. I’m Number Two.”

Rowan couldn’t stop her eyebrows shooting up. “There’s a Forbes Top 100 Highest Paid Bodyguard list?”

Aslin grinned. “No. Now get out of the car, Hemsworth, before I come around there and lift you out.”

If she were feeling more capable, she would have hit him. But she wasn’t. She hurt. She really did. Shutting out the pain wasn’t easy when she was spending so much effort suppressing the need to blurt out how much she wanted him.

Climbing from the backseat, she bit back a wince as her heels hit the ground.

Aslin was there before her in a heartbeat, worry etching his face, scooping his hand up to hers to help her out. A small part of her wanted to tell him to piss off. The rest of her—not only the broken, sore bits, but the bits governed by her heart—surrendered to his attentive concern.