UP IN FLAMES

A sensual thrill sent chill bumps across her skin. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her. She tried not to like the feeling that brought forth in her-the crazy rush of excitement and anticipation-but it pooled low in her belly nonetheless.

“You should wear your hair down more often,” he said.

Vanessa blinked slowly. “What?”

“Your hair,” he repeated as he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he spread his legs. With his eyes all hot and the small grin full of lazy arrogance, he really was quite stunning. The picture of masculine beauty. “You’re an attractive woman, but with your hair down and those glasses off, you really are quite beautiful.”

As his words sank in, she snorted. She knew she didn’t look like she face-planted an ugly branch, but beautiful? Yeah, that was not the case. If anything, Vanessa was exceptionally plain with her dark hair and eyes. “Beautiful? Removing my glasses and letting my hair down isn’t a drastic makeover.”

“If I say you’re beautiful, then you’re beautiful.”

She arched a brow. “Oh, you’re the deciding law on this?”

The lazy grin spread. “I am. So I don’t want you wearing your hair in that bun anymore. Makes you look like you’re ten times older than you obviously are.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I am fucking serious.” He cocked his head to the side. “I like the glasses, though. Reminds me of this teacher I had in high school. Every time they slipped down her nose, it made my-”

“Enough!” She held up her hands. “I totally get the picture, but you don’t get to tell me how to wear my hair.”

“I’m practically your bodyguard now.”

Staring at him, she gave a quick shake of her head. The man was insufferable-sexy, but incredibly insufferable. But within the matter of minutes, he’d yanked her out of her self-pity and the tight grasp of fear, and for that she was thankful.

Didn’t mean she had to accept any of what was coming out of his mouth or follow through with the crazy idea of her staying in his home. “You being my ‘bodyguard’, as you put it, doesn’t mean you’re my personal stylist, Alaric, and I can’t-”

“Speaking of personal stylist, you look better in my old clothes than you do in those God-awful suits you like to wear. And trust me, you look fucking hot in my clothes.”

Her cheeks tightened with a blush she wished would go away and die.

“Thanks,” she gritted out.

“Thank God the clothes in your closet were destroyed. See? There’s a silver lining in every dark cloud or whatever bullshit they say. We can go shopping sometime and find you something that actually makes you look good.”

Too pissed to be hurt by his comments, she curled her hands into fists at her sides. There was a good chance she was going to punch him in the face. “First off, fuck you.”

His eyes gleamed with mischief. “I like where this is heading.” He said,

Correction: she was going to kick him in the balls. “Secondly, I’m so glad that my entire wardrobe being destroyed is such good news to you. Thirdly, I’d rather run in front of a speeding city bus than go clothes shopping with you.”

“Well, that sounds drastic.” He retorted.

Her jaw ached from how hard she was clenching her teeth. “And finally, I can’t stay here.”

The laziness in his posture vanished in an instant and he straightened. “You’re staying here, Vanessa.”

“I can go back to the hotel-”

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, eyes flashing cobalt. “It is not safe for you to stay in a hotel.”

A dull shard of dread hit her in the chest, but she ignored it. “I’m fine at the hotel.”

“If you really believe that, then why did you come here?”

Ah, he had a good point. “That was a mistake, but there are tons of people around and-”

He unfolded his muscular arms. “Exactly. There are tons of people who go in and out all day and all night long. It’s a major security threat, and I should’ve pulled your ass out of there the first night.”

It still struck her speechless for a moment to know that he’d been watching her when she’d thought he’d forgotten about her. “I’m not staying here. It’s absurd. It’s your home, Alaric. It’s so inappropriate.”

One dark brow arched. “Who gives a fuck about appropriate?”

“I do!” she replied.

A look of impatience crossed his face. “You worry about what other people think too much.”

“And I should,” she replied crossly.

“No.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t.”

“And you don’t think you should care either?”

He laughed. “Hell no.”

Her mouth opened, but she found she had no idea what to say. Better yet, how did they get so far off topic?

“Besides, your inappropriate argument is moot. Like I said, I’m your bodyguard now. So if you stayed in that hotel, I’d be staying with you. But staying here is sure as hell a lot more comfortable.”

Once again, he had a point, but she couldn’t do this. There had to be someone else she could go to, because she…she didn’t trust herself around him. The way he made her feel, even now when she wanted nothing more than to karate chop him into next week, was the same feeling she saw in her mother’s eyes every time she’d talked about a new guy.

“I’m fine with someone staying with me in a hotel room,” she decided, lifting her chin stubbornly. “But it has to be someone else. Anyone but you, because-”

One second he was standing by the bedroom door and the next he was in front of her, one hand on her hip and the other delving deep into her hair, cradling the nape of her neck. The words formed on her tongue, but he silenced them with his lips.

Alaric kissed her.

Shock radiated down her spine. That had to be the only reason she didn’t knee him between the thighs right off the bat. At first, it was barely a touch, but her lips tingled hotly, as if she’d dared to kiss the sun.