“You saved a woman’s life, and just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “You’re working on some mundane report.”
“Correction. I’m trying to work on a mundane report. Do you maybe have a list or something?”
They’d arrived at the house and mounted the steps, heading in through the door.
Stephanie kicked off her muddy boots, socks and all. “I have a few scrapbooks down at the main house.”
“Can we pick them up tomorrow?”
“Sure.” She pulled the elastic from her ponytail and ran her fingers through her messy hair. The action highlighted its auburn shimmer, while the pose showed off the compact curves of her body.
It was a struggle not to stare. So, he moved further into the house to where his work was spread out on the dining room table. He dropped into a padded chair, reminding himself of where he’d left off.
“Alec?” she called, coming around the corner.
“Yes?”
When she didn’t answer, he couldn’t help but turn to look.
She’d stripped off her cotton work shirt and now wore a thin, washed-out T-shirt and a pair of soft blue jeans that hugged her curves. The jeans rode low, revealing a strip of soft, pale skin above the waistband. Her bare feet struck him as incredibly sexy as she padded across the hardwood floor.
“What is it about your past life that led you to rush into a burning vehicle while everybody else stood there and stared in horror?”
“Let it go.”
She might look soft and sweet, but the woman had the tenacity of a pit bull.
“I’m curious,” she told him.
“And I have work to do.”
“It’s not a normal thing, you know.”
“It’s a perfectly normal thing. A dozen guys out there would have done the same.”
Stephanie shook her head.
Alec rolled his eyes and turned back to his spreadsheet.
“Let me guess,” she carried on. “You were in the marines.”
“No.”
“The army?”
“Go away.”
That surprised a laugh out of her. “It’s my house.”
“It’s my job.”
She pondered for a minute. “There’s an easy way to get rid of me.”
He slid a quizzical gaze her way.
“Answer the question.”
He wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but if it would get her out of the room and off his wayward mind, he was game to give it a try. “I was in the Boy Scouts.”
She frowned. “That’s not it.”
“Visited dangerous cities?”
A shake of her head.
“Had the occasional bar fight? Never started one,” he felt compelled to point out.
She braced her hands on the back of a chair and pinned him with a pointed stare.
“You’re not leaving,” he noted.
“That’s all you’ve got?” she demanded.
“What more do you want?”
“I don’t know. Something out of the ordinary. Something that taught you how to deal with danger.”
“I grew up on the south side of Chicago.”
“Seriously?”
“No, I’m making that part up.”
“Was it in a dangerous part of town?” she asked, leaning forward, looking intrigued.
Alec liked the way her pose tightened her T-shirt against her body.
“Relatively,” he told her. Crime had been high. Fights had been frequent. He’d learned how to read people and avoid situations, and how to handle himself when things went bad.
Her voice went low and intimate, as if somebody might overhear them. “Were you like a gang member? In rumbles and things?”
He reflexively leaned closer, lowering his own voice. “No gang. I was raised by a single father, a Chicago cop with very high standards of behavior.” Not that Alec had ever been tempted to join a gang. But his father most certainly would have stopped him cold.
“Your father’s a police officer?”
Alec sat back. “Not anymore. He’s owner and CEO of Creighton Waverley Security.”
“So, you work for him?”
Alec shook his head. Work for his old man? Not in this lifetime. “I do occasional contract work for his company.”
“Like this?”
“This is a private arrangement between me and Ryder International.”
“There’s an edge to your voice.”
“That’s because you’re still asking questions.”
“Are you mad at me or your father?”
“Do you ever stop?”
“Do you?”
“I’m paid to ask questions.”
“Yeah?” The smile she gave him sent a rush of desire to every pulse point in his body. “I do it recreationally.”
They stared at each other in thickening silence, and he could hear the alarm bells warming up deep in the base of his brain. Both Royce and Jared were protective of their sister, and they would not take kindly to Alec making a pass at her.
Not that Alec would ever make a pass at a client.
He never had.
Of course, he’d never wanted to before, either.
So, maybe it wasn’t his high ethical standards that kept him on the straight and narrow. Maybe he’d simply never been presented with a client who had creamy skin, deep, cherry lips, perfectly rounded breasts and the wink of a navel that made him want to wrap his arms around her waist, drag her forward and press wet kisses against her stomach until she moaned in surrender.
A sudden rap on the door jolted him back to reality.
It couldn’t be Royce. He was still at the hospital. And Jared was in Chicago.
Stephanie hesitated but then turned from Alec and moved into the alcove off the living room to open the front door.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Wesley’s eager voice carried clearly across the room.
Of course.
The soon-to-be boyfriend.
Wasn’t that a nice dose of reality.
Three
Brushing her teeth in the en suite bathroom, Stephanie couldn’t help but replay Alec’s rescue over and over in her mind.
In the moments after the crash, she’d been preoccupied with Amber’s safety. And then the helicopter arrived, and the tow truck, and the staff were all anxious and needing to talk. And later she’d been preoccupied with Alec.
But now she knew that Amber was safe. She was alone with her thoughts, and she found herself focusing on those seconds in Alec’s arms.
He was surprisingly strong, amazingly fast and obviously agile. His strength had given her a sense of security. Then later, while they’d argued, she’d felt a flare of something that was a whole lot more than security.
She couldn’t exactly put a name to it. But it was strong enough, that when Wesley had showed up, he’d seemed bland by comparison.
She spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed her mouth. As she replaced the toothbrush in the charger, she paused, gazing at herself in the mirror.
Attraction, she admitted, glancing at the door that led from the opposite side of the bathroom into the guest room where Alec was sleeping.
She was attracted to him.
She wanted it to be Wesley, but it was Alec.
She gritted her clean teeth, dragged a comb through her curls, braided them tight and snagged an elastic before heading back into her bedroom.
The window was wide, a cool breeze sliding down from the craggy peaks, while the horses blew and snorted in the fields below. Thoughts still on Alec, roving further into forbidden territory, she dropped her robe onto a chair and climbed between the crisp sheets. Her laundry was still behind, and she was prickly warm, so she’d gone with panties and an old tank top, soft as butter against her skin.
She closed her eyes, but nothing happened.
Well, nothing except an image of Alec appearing behind her eyelids.
When he first showed up, he was just a good-looking city guy. There were plenty of those in magazines and on television. And she’d never been particularly attracted to men based on looks alone.