Blindsight

She hung up the phone a moment later and sat at the table, a soft frown on her face. Apparently love wasn’t all roses in paradise this morning. Erin climbed all three stories of the red-bricked building where I knew she’d be headed for her morning shower in the en suite master, followed by another cup of tea before she’d settle into the small corner office and sit behind her computer, working diligently all afternoon.

This was her daily routine. I’d already had it established from the first day I’d set to surveil the million-dollar home at 733 Colfax. I sighed and turned away, slipping the key into the ignition until I saw her dart back up the stairs. I frowned as she rummaged through her walk-in and then watched the beautiful Erin Warner walk down the front steps ten minutes later.

Apparently she was forgoing routine today.

With a leather brief on one shoulder and too-high heels that looked hellaciously uncomfortable, she slid into her BMW and pulled out of the driveway, hitting the curb before she went speeding down the street.

Just what in the hell was she up to now?

I found myself more intrigued with her than I’d been with any other target. I hadn’t specifically been tasked with following her, but she was so knee-deep in shit and she didn’t even know it, she needed someone to watch her.

I sped off after her, following a few car-lengths behind as she whipped her way through crowded streets towards the financial district. She pulled into a tight space and gathered her way-too-fucking-big bag, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.

My grin lifted when a dangerous thought flitted through my mind. She was off limits, but where was the fun in setting limits?

five

Just three days after taking a new job and I was wheels up and peering out at a midnight navy sky, the golden-dotted glow of neighborhoods mapped out below us in an intricate lacework of hues. We’d boarded a late night private flight direct to Portugal so Hunter could shoot the mistress of a wealthy head of state the following morning. My eyes had widened when he’d offered the few details, but he’d quickly reminded me that I’d signed a non-disclosure, and what happened on location, stayed on location.

My gaze roamed over the richly-accented cream leather of the jet just as Hunter’s eyes lifted from his laptop and landed on mine. He was dressed in casual denim jeans, worn and soft, and a fitted white thermal shirt.

I sighed and shifted in my seat, trying to quell the insistent hum between my thighs that’d become a problem whenever I was around him. Hunter’s eyes roved down my denim-covered legs and then back up again, a quirk of his lips belied that he knew I was uncomfortable. Aroused.

“Nervous?” His rich voice vibrated off of every cell in my body.

“Of flying? I’ve done it lots of times.” I sighed as I felt a slow headache pushing into my frontal lobe.

“Good.” He stood and approached my seat, his languid body moving one sinewy muscle at a time. “But I didn’t mean the flight.” He sat in the seat beside me, pulling up the arm rest and leaning in. “I meant traveling out of the country with a stranger,” he finished, his breath licking across my earlobe and leaving me without my own.

“Should I be?” My heart beating quicker with my reply.

“What does your instinct say?” I found his eyes blazing, deep and dark into my own. He pulled away then and cocked a grin, arms folded across his chest, showcasing the lean lines of his tattoo-etched muscles.

“My instincts are telling me that the look in your eye could be dangerous.”

His cocky grin deepened.

“But mostly they’re saying you’re like a Chihuahua.”

The laugh that barreled out from his chest had shards of happiness splitting across my cheeks. When he’d finally caught his breath, he inquired, “Chihuahua?”

“All bark and no bite.” I smiled, satisfied that I’d taken his cocky attitude down a few notches.

His eyes shifted down to my lips and then across my cheekbones before landing on my eyes again. “I definitely bite.”

The air deflated from my lungs and suddenly I was left without words or sense.

“But not before you beg me to,” he said, pulling my leg into his lap, working the calf in slow, decadent circles.

“Hunter, this is a working relationship only. I would never jeopardize…” I paused, my cheeks heating with the lie. I had a feeling my shifting thighs and erect nipples told the true story of just what I was thinking.

“Oh, of course you wouldn’t.” He relaxed into his chair with a grin, my leg still in his lap. “I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t think you were a professional first, but I happen to be of the personal belief that two consenting adults can engage in adult activities outside of office hours.” His thumbs worked a slow, seductive rhythm on my calves. “But that’s beside the point.” He winked. “I want to know all about Erin Warner.”

I shook my head and settled further into the leather and his warm hands. “There isn’t much to tell. A proud graduate of Clearview High School. Go Dogs!” I raised my arm in a silly cheer. “Bachelors from Northwestern—”

“I don’t want your resume, Erin. Tell me the stuff the paperwork can’t.” His eyes burned into mine with heated interest.

An odd sense of prickling awareness traveled through my skin then, as if we’d known each other before and I could divulge to him all my skeletons without fear or shame. “My mom was nineteen when I was born and my dad left town before my first birthday. She was a single parent so it was tough. We made it, but it wasn’t easy.”

“Hard life for a kid.” A shadow of sadness cloaked his eyes.

“Yeah, but he wasn’t a good guy. That’s all my mom ever says…‘Trust me, you don’t want him in your life.’ I used to imagine he joined the circus and was on tour around the country,” I smiled at the long-lost memory. “Every year when they came to town, while my friends were riding the rides, I would skulk behind the scenes looking for a carnie with my wavy dark hair and high cheekbones.” I shook my head. “Imagine if he really was a carnie.” I rolled my eyes at the little dreamer I’d held tight to my heart even then.