The Mighty Quinns: Declan

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She blushed, then giggled softly. “Are you hungry? I could make breakfast for us. I think I have eggs. And English muffins. Or I could make French toast.”

“French toast sounds good,” he said, noticing how deftly she changed the conversation to suit her.

She walked to the kitchen as Dec retrieved his pants from the floor and tugged them on. He joined her a few moments later, sliding into a spot at the breakfast bar.

“I slept well last night,” she said. “I felt safe with you here.”

Perhaps she’d been safe from the stalker, Dec mused, but considering his own preoccupation with her, her virtue was definitely at risk. “I heard you talking in your sleep. Were you having a bad dream?”

She glanced up from the carton of eggs she’d opened on the counter. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember.”

“I was reading your file last night,” Dec said.

“Did you find it interesting?”

“There wasn’t any personal information in there, Miss Merrill.”

“Rachel,” she insisted. “I think we’ve gotten past formalities, don’t you?”

“Rachel,” he repeated. He liked the sound of her name on his lips. He wanted to say it a few more times, pleased with the added level of intimacy it gave them. “Tell me, Rachel. Is there anyone in your private life, an ex-boyfriend, a scorned lover, who might be writing those letters?”

She sat down across from him at the breakfast bar and braced her chin in her palm, toying absentmindedly with a pencil. “I wish it was someone I know, but it isn’t. I’ve tried to come up with a list. I have listeners. I also have clients from a small private counseling practice I maintain and from seminars that I conduct regularly. And then there’s my research work at the university which puts me in contact with more students.”

“So would you say we’re looking at thousands of potential suspects?”

She winced. “Yes. I suppose so.” Glancing up at him, she met his gaze. “You’re never going to catch this guy, are you?”

“We may just have to go about this another way. Sooner or later, he’ll make a mistake and I’ll be there to catch him.”

“How?”

“First, I’m going to make sure you’re never in any danger. From now on, you listen to me when it comes to matters of your own personal security. Understood?”

“It could be a her,” Rachel commented as she slid off the stool and continued making breakfast. Dec watched as she focused on beating the eggs in a shallow ceramic bowl. Her hair fell down around her face in pretty waves and every now and then, she glanced up at him as if his attention made her uneasy.

“Why don’t we start with boyfriends,” Dec suggested. He’d been curious since reading her file the night before. “Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“No,” she replied, her answer short and inviting no further probing. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replied.

She snatched the bag of bread out of the refrigerator and opened it, then tossed three pieces into the eggs. “You’re going to tell me that most stalkers are former boyfriends or lovers. But that’s not true in this case.”

Dec got up and stood next to her at the stove, watching as she heated oil in the pan. “How do you know?”

She drew a deep breath, then glanced over at him. “Because the men I’ve been with have been the ones to break off the relationship. I’ve always been the one to get dumped. That pretty much eliminates the ex-boyfriend theory.” Declan watched as her gaze fixed on his mouth. “I did have a dream last night,” she murmured. She shook her head, then forced a smile. “So are you the only one who’ll be guarding me or will someone else replace you when your shift is over?”

As president of his own security company, Dec rarely did more than supervise his staff and attend the occasional social event. But after meeting Rachel, perhaps it was time to get back in the trenches and do some real security work. After all, it was good to keep his instincts honed. And if he couldn’t find Eden Ross, the least he could do was protect one of Trevor Ross’s most valuable business assets. “I’m with you until we find this guy,” he said softly, the urge to kiss her growing stronger by the second. “I don’t want to trust this to anyone else.”

“How will that work?” she murmured. “Will you move in here?”

Dec nodded. “And eat here, and follow you around and keep an eye on anyone else following you around. This person is going to show up sooner or later and I plan to be there.”

“And what are we going to do about this?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“What?”

Rachel reached out and placed her palm on his naked chest. Slowly, she let her fingertips skim down to his waist and back up again. The sensation of her touch on his body brought an instant response, causing his shaft to grow hard between them.

“This,” she said, pressing her hand to his heart. She glanced down. “And that.”

“Like you said, we’re both adults. I don’t mix business with pleasure and you certainly know the pitfalls of casual sex. So we’ll just have to have an understanding that this will go no further.”

Rachel let her hand drop to her side, then turned her attention back to breakfast. “I have to go over to the university today,” she said. “I assume you plan to come with me?”

“Yep.”

Dec busied himself making a pot of coffee as Rachel finished the French toast. As the coffee brewed, he sat back and watched her move about the kitchen with an ease and grace that he found fascinating. Her silky robe clung to her body and offered a tempting view of her legs.

Spending twenty-four hours a day with Rachel could hardly be considered work, but it would test his willpower. And resisting the urge to kiss her would be a chore. He’d just have to remind himself he was here to do a job. And that job did not include seducing Rachel.

She handed him a plate of French toast, then set the syrup down next to his plate. “I’m not much of a cook,” she said. “If it’s bad, you can have cereal.”

“It looks good,” Dec said.

Rachel sat down beside him and dug into her food. As she bent forward, her robe gaped open and offered a tantalizing view of her breasts. She was so intent on eating that she didn’t notice his interest.

“So,” she murmured, between bites. “Tell me something. When you masturbate, do you prefer to use magazines or porno videos?”

Declan gasped, hot coffee going down his windpipe. He coughed, unable to catch a breath. He cleared his throat and tried to stop his eyes from watering. “What?”

“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I should have saved that question for dinner. It’s just that I’ve been doing research on the subject and I’m curious to get your perspective.”

“Why don’t we save the discussion for the evening meal.” He shook his head. Talking about sex on the radio had obviously eliminated any inhibitions Rachel had about bringing it up in casual conversation. Dec couldn’t help wondering if she’d participate in an equally relaxed manner. Did her open attitude extend beyond the radio airwaves to the bedroom?

He took another bite of his French toast, then washed it down with a swig of coffee. This wasn’t going to be easy resisting her rather unusual charms. Especially since she seemed determined to expose every sexual secret he possessed. Talking about sex had never been a turn-on for him before, but he found himself curiously aroused by it now.

Perhaps he ought to appease his curiosity, just kiss her once and rid himself of this attraction to her. It would be so simple to just pull her into his arms and have at it. Maybe then, he could get his mind back on the job at hand, guarding Rachel’s body instead of lusting after it.

At the next available opportunity, he’d consider the tactic. After all, it would be for her own good.

3

RACHEL TUGGED THE cotton dress over her head and smoothed it down along her hips. She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to be completely objective about her appearance. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she did have a pretty face and a nice body. And, in general, normal men should be at least mildly attracted to her.

Declan Quinn was attracted to her, he’d admitted that. And he was far from normal. He was every woman’s fantasy—handsome, charming, strong, and without a huge ego to get in the way. Since the moment she’d touched him in the kitchen, Rachel had decided that she’d find a way to get him into her bed.

For a long time, she’d been waiting for the right man to walk into her life. But as the months had passed, Rachel had begun to worry that she’d ever enjoy the pleasures of a man’s body. Perhaps it was better to opt for an occasional one-night stand while she waited.

It wouldn’t be difficult to get Declan to surrender. She knew the physiological effects of a woman’s touch, how the sensation of her hand on his skin went racing through his synapses, the neurotransmitters releasing endorphins and giving his brain its cue to feel pleasure.

Men had natural instincts they couldn’t deny and she knew exactly which buttons to push to send those instincts into overdrive. But she’d never used that knowledge to deliberately seduce a man. In a way, it seemed unprofessional. Could she truly enjoy a night in bed with a man who’d been so easily led?

“Of course you could,” she muttered. Rachel sighed and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “It’s time you start to practice what you preach, Dr. Lillian Devine.” She raked her fingers through her hair, then touched up her lipstick. She’d spoken at length on the radio about the various techniques that humans used for flirtation and today, she’d put those techniques to good—

Rachel stopped short, then closed her eyes. This man was supposed to be her bodyguard. And for a few short minutes, she’d forgotten why he was really there. Again, the fear prickled at her thoughts and she forced herself to think of other things. Maybe thoughts of seducing Declan were simply her mind’s way of coping, of relieving the constant stress of her situation.

Still, this attraction between them wasn’t imagined. She’d courted his attention by spraying him in the face with pepper spray, an unconventional approach, but it hadn’t scared him away. They’d begun talking when she’d offered her apology. She’d made her intentions clear by touching him that morning and admitting her attraction.

If they proceeded in a normal manner, there would be a gradual escalation until their bodies began to synchronize, moving together to caress…to kiss…and finally, to make love. It was all very scientific and quite predictable.

Rachel grabbed her sweater from the bed as she walked out of her room. She expected to find Declan dressed and waiting for her. When he wasn’t, she walked to the guest bathroom, finding the door open a crack. “I’m ready,” she said. “Are you?”

He pulled the door open and Rachel found him, dressed only in a towel, his face half-covered with shaving cream. “I’m sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I got caught up on the phone. It’ll just take me a few minutes.”

Rachel nodded, then pulled the door closed. But at the last minute, she let go of the knob and it gaped open. From her vantage point in the hall she could see Declan’s reflection in the wide mirrors that lined the wall behind the sink.

She made a silent study of his body, for the first time having the time to fully appreciate it. Muscles shifted and bunched across his back as he leaned over the sink, bracing one hand on the countertop. Rachel’s fingers twitched as she imagined the feel of his skin, warm and smooth, with hard muscle beneath.

He tipped his head back as he shaved his jawline. There was something so erotic about his task, though it was nothing more than an everyday occurrence to most men. It was patently masculine, something that Rachel had never fully appreciated. In truth, she could spend hours watching him shave and never really get bored.

Her gaze dropped to his waist, so narrow, then his hips. The towel rode low and when he bent forward, she could see the curve of his backside outlined by the soft terrycloth. Rachel knew she was invading his privacy, but she couldn’t help herself. There was something about Declan’s body that captured her attention. Every detail seemed to spark her deepest fantasies.

He straightened, then ran his hand through his hair and an instant later, the towel dropped to the floor. Rachel held her breath, growing slightly dizzy as she did. Oh, he was beautiful. He stepped away from the mirror to turn on the shower and she caught a full frontal view. A tiny moan slipped from her throat and he turned.

Frantic, she pressed her fingers to her lips and stepped away from the door. A few seconds later she heard him turn on the shower. Emboldened, Rachel stepped back to the door and took another peek. The shower door was clear, letting in the light from the bathroom. Through the glass she could see his outline as he moved beneath the water.

Her gaze ran up and down the length of his body, her attention immediately drawn to the tantalizing curve of his hip and buttocks. Researchers always focused on the physical beauty of the female form and its effect on the male of the species, but very few had acknowledged that the male body was just as intriguing.

Rachel felt a warm flush wash over her body and she turned and leaned back against the wall. If she truly wanted to seduce him, then she’d have to be careful. Appearing too eager might result in disappointment. Research had shown that it was always better to prolong the chase, to extend the anticipation until neither party could hold back any longer. She just wasn’t sure if time would be her enemy or her friend.

If Declan caught the stalker tomorrow, then there’d be no reason for him to continue living with her. But if the danger lasted for more than a few weeks, then prolonging the chase would be a bit sadistic. Timing would be crucial to success or failure.

Rachel took a deep breath and focused her thoughts. She wouldn’t make the common mistakes that women often made—she wouldn’t be too aggressive or too passive, she wouldn’t promise what she wasn’t willing to deliver, and she certainly wouldn’t let Declan call the shots.

The sound of the shower suddenly ceased and Rachel hurried back down the hall to the living room. This would be the most complicated social experiment she’d ever conducted. But if she was careful, she’d get exactly what she wanted—Declan Quinn, naked, aroused, and in her bed.

A few minutes later, she heard him exit the bathroom and a few minutes after that, he appeared, fully dressed in a nicely pressed blue oxford shirt and khaki trousers. He’d combed his hair with his fingers and it stood up in damp spikes.

He walked over to the dining room table and seemed to pick up a leather belt. But on closer inspection, Rachel realized it was a shoulder holster, with a handgun in it.

“You carry a gun?” she asked.

He glanced over at her and nodded. “I will when we’re out in public. Just in case.” He slipped the holster over his arms, then buckled it in place. “All right,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “Where are we off to first?”

She wanted to blurt out “bed,” to push him back down the hall toward her room, undressing him as she went. But Rachel cast aside that fantasy. “My office on campus,” she said. “I have to check in with my research assistant and pick up my messages. And there should be a few packages waiting for me.”

Rachel grabbed her purse and her briefcase, then walked out into the hall to the elevator. A few seconds later, Declan joined her. He’d put on a linen sport coat, part of the wardrobe he’d had delivered to the apartment earlier that morning, the outline of the holster was evident through the fabric.

Though she knew it was there to protect her safety, the gun gave her a queasy feeling in her stomach. Declan was taking her case very seriously and he was a professional. If he needed a gun to protect her, then there must truly be danger. Still, she trusted him to keep her safe. As long as he was by her side, then she could go about her business as usual.

“My office on campus is only a ten-minute walk,” Rachel said.

“We’re taking your SUV,” he said.

“But it’s such a nice a day and I thought we could stop and get coffee before we—”

“No stops, no walk,” he said. “The vehicle is safer.”

His expression, so relaxed just a few moments ago, was now tensed. His jaw was tight and his gaze hard. “We follow my rules, all right?”

She stiffened her spine and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “All right. But don’t think you can just order me around. You can simply explain why we have to do things your way and I’ll understand.”

He turned to her. “There may be times I can’t explain,” he said. “I need you to promise me that whatever the situation, if I ask you to do something, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

“We’re both adults and we should both be able to resolve any conflicts we might have with discussion. But we can’t if you get bossy.”