Regretting his thoughtless words, he lifted himself onto his elbows, regarding her with a somber gaze.
“That was never a rumor I heard, and I wouldn’t believe it if I did.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Sophia, I’m here to protect you.” Her lips parted and he hastily pressed a finger to halt her angry words. “Hold on. I’m not going to insult your intelligence by denying that I want you.” He allowed his hunger to simmer in the air, the heat stirring the satin strands of her hair. “Desperately. Or that I’m going to say ‘no’ when you finally accept that I’m irresistible.” With an effort he leashed his aching desire, needing her to realize that she would always be safe in his care. Physically and emotionally. “But until that moment, I don’t expect anything from you but your cooperation in keeping you alive.”
Her expression remained suspicious. “You intend to spend the night with me and not have sex?”
Both wolf and man groaned at the mere thought of the long hours ahead, but his smile never wavered.
“I can keep our relationship platonic if you can.”
It was a direct challenge.
One no wolf could back down from.
Her jaw clenched. “The boxers stay on.”
His smile widened. “You’re the boss.”
Turning her back to him, she reached to switch off the Tiffany lamp.
“Christ, I must be out of my mind.”
CHAPTER 4
It was late afternoon when Sophia woke.
Considering that dawn had already crested when she’d at last fallen asleep, it was no surprise she’d slept late.
It was, however, a surprise to realize that she was not only wrapped in Luc’s strong arms, but that she’d molded herself so tightly to his body that she might as well have been a damned barnacle on the bottom of a ship.
Her head was tucked beneath his chin, her ear pressed over the steady beat of his heart, and she had one leg thrown over his hip.
Pathetic.
Sensing he was awake and well aware of her embarrassment, she tilted back her head, intending to slay him with a heated glare.
Instead she forgot how to breathe.
Holy ... shit, but he was beautiful.
Achingly, shatteringly beautiful.
Helplessly her gaze wandered over the chiseled male features that were only emphasized by his heavy morning beard and his tousled hair. The high cheekbones, the wide brow, the near-black eyes that could make a woman melt at a hundred paces.
It wasn’t until his lips parted to reveal the teeth that were shockingly white against his bronzed skin that she was reminded that she wanted to punch him in his perfect nose, not ...
Other things.
Wicked, delicious other things.
“If you intended to use this side of the bed you should have said so last night,” she informed him, shifting her hands from his back to press them against his chest.
He smiled at her with a lazy satisfaction. “You were the one who wanted me to be more sensitive.”
“I said I didn’t want you acting like a caveman,” she corrected. “Besides there’s nothing sensitive in groping me while I’m asleep.”
His hands drifted over her hips, touching her with a familiarity that should have been offensive, not exciting.
“You were whimpering and tossing around until I at last took you in my arms,” he claimed. “Once I had you tucked against me you slept like a baby.”
Her lips parted to deny his ridiculous claim, only to snap shut as a vague memory flashed through her mind—a nightmare in which she was being chased through a dark forest by an unseen enemy.
Muttering her opinion of arrogant Weres who should be neutered, she shoved her way out of his arms and headed toward her bathroom.
“I need a shower.”
“What about breakfast?”
“Do I look like Julia Child?” she demanded, pausing to send him a warning scowl. “Don’t even think about opening this door.”
He grinned, looking edible as he tucked his hands behind his head, the satin sheet falling down to reveal his wide chest and washboard abs.
“I could scrub your back.”
Fiercely refusing to allow the tempting image to form in her mind, Sophia slammed the door shut and turned the lock.
Not that she thought Luc would intrude into her privacy. He might be overbearing when it came to protecting her, but he would never force himself on an unwilling woman.
Why would he?
He no doubt had an entire harem waiting for him back in Miami.
Refusing to consider why that thought made her wolf snarl, Sophia yanked off her camisole and shorts before entering her shower and turning the cold water on full blast.
A half an hour later she was dressed in a tiny yellow bikini with a matching sarong that fell to her knees tied around her slender waist. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her expression was defiant.
She hadn’t chosen her favorite swimsuit to make Luc forget those females she was now convinced he must have left behind. That would be downright childish, she told herself as she made her way toward the delicious aroma of frying onions, garlic, peppers, and fresh tomatoes.
It was just that she always spent a few hours by the pool before heading to her club.
Of course, if it did make his jaw drop, then she wouldn’t complain.
Her cocky smile lasted until she stepped into the kitchen to catch sight of Luc standing beside the stove still dressed in nothing more than his silk boxers.
Instinctively her hand lifted to make sure no drool was dribbling down her chin.
Holy crap.
Most women would sell their souls to walk in and find this bronzed god fixing them breakfast.
Including her, she abruptly realized.
For a crazed moment she considered the pleasure of walking across the floor and wrapping her arms around his narrow waist to press herself against his back.
Then abruptly she recalled he wasn’t here because he’d been mesmerized by her charm. Or even because he thought she was hot.
He was here because her life was in danger. And while she didn’t doubt for a minute he would be more than happy to fulfill a few of her deepest fantasies, she would be a fool to think she would be anything but a convenient female body he was willing to use until it was time to move on.
She didn’t know why the thought should make her suddenly so grumpy, but she did know her fingers itched to toss a few of her Baccarat crystal glasses.
Instead she forced a casual smile to her lips as she crossed to the breakfast nook where the table was already set, complete with fresh roses from the garden.
“Making yourself at home?” she drawled, settling on a padded wicker chair.