It was that ache that fortified his determination not to get further involved with her.  If he touched her, he’d cave.  It killed him not being able to take her into his arms and comfort her when that prick of a sperm donor rolled up his window on her.  Fucker knew who she was, too.

Flynn felt like a colossal dick when he realized he’d done the same thing to her as her father had.  For different reasons, true.  That didn’t make it right.

Grabbing the chair from the small desk in the corner, he sat down in it and let out a long sigh.  He’d never felt so out of sorts or so unsure of himself. If he was half the man she needed, he’d fess up and step up. Fear paralyzed him.

Her soft breathless voice, roughened from crying, called out for him.  He moved to her side, realizing she was still asleep.  He brushed the pink tips of her bangs away from her face, marveling at the softness of her hair and skin.  His body warmed as the desire to touch her more intimately took hold of him.  Not ravage her, but hold her close to him, caress her.  Kiss her. Protect her.  Each one of those urges was new to him.  He’d never felt any of them for a woman.

The only women who had mattered before Pink were his mother and sister, whom he’d always tried to shield from his father’s insensitivity.  He’d protected them both as much as an adolescent and then a teenage boy could. In the end, his father’s flagrant philandering with fast women killed his mother and Genny took up with a lowlife gold digger who walked out on her and their two kids after he’d drained Genny dry and Dad refused to fund him any longer.

Pink was right.  He was a coward.  This little Wild Style had bigger balls than he did.  He smiled.  Couldn’t help it.  She was something else.

Bending toward her, Flynn pressed his lips to hers, tasting the saltiness of her tears.  She was warm and supple, her bubble gum scent faint.

Her eyelids fluttered open as a soft sigh of contentment slipped past her lips. His heart thudded painfully against his rib cage.  Her sleepy eyes widened.  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured against her lips.  “I brought you lunch.”

Color pinkened her cheeks. Inwardly Flynn groaned.  She was making it damn difficult not to drop to his knees and beg her for forgiveness. He moved back and stood up, retrieving the tray from the dresser.  As he turned with it, he caught a glimpse of her breasts when she rearranged the sheet around her.  When she caught him staring, she cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word.  Silently she wrapped it snugly around her chest as she sat up against the pillows.

He set the tray down on the nightstand.  “I made you a grilled brie and tomato basil croissant.”

“Thank you,” was all she said as he handed her a napkin and the plate.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted to drink, so I brought you bottled water and a Gatorade.”

“Thank you,” she said as she bit into the sandwich.  “Mmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes.  “This is really good.” She chewed slowly, savoring it.

Flynn smiled.  At least he got that right. She liked his cooking.  And he liked cooking for her.  He moved back to the chair and was silent as she made contented noises as she ate.  When she was done, she took a long drink of Gatorade. The sheet had loosened.  When she reached to place the bottle back to the tray, it slid along the voluptuous swells her breasts, her nipples managing to catch the edge.

Heat simmered in his veins and his dick thickened.  Flynn cleared his throat when she didn’t pull up the sheet.

Raising her chin, she looked directly at him and said, “We need to talk, Flynn, and I need for you to hear me.”

“If it’s about you leaving here, we’re not going to discuss it.”

“Listen to me, please.”

He gave her a curt nod.  He’d listen, but he wasn’t changing his mind.

“I cannot thank you enough for what you did last night,” she said quietly.  Her eyes softened. He wanted to touch her cheek, run his fingers along the high curve and into her hair.  Then kiss her so she wouldn’t say the words he didn’t want to hear. “You saved my life, Flynn.  I can’t ever repay that.  I appreciate your further concern and opening your home to me to keep me safe. It means the world to me.  I wish there was some way I could repay you.”

“But?” He knew where she was headed and the thought of her leaving here caused a knot to form in his gut.

“But I don’t want to stay here.  I want to be alone.”

He knew why she didn’t want to stay.  It wasn’t fair of him to try and force her to. “You can’t go back to your house.”

“I know.  I was thinking, maybe I’d take you up on the hotel offer, not the Claremont, something much less expensive, so long as you promise me you’ll let me pay you back.”

He scowled. “By stripping?”

“No, not stripping.  I have other means of support that don’t involve the club.  Just not at the moment.”

“I have a better idea.  Why don’t you stay here? I’ll camp out at a buddy’s house until this case blows over.”

“I don’t think you understand, Flynn. I don’t want to see you again.  Ever. When I walk out that door, the one and only contact we’ll ever have again is when I mail you the check to cover the hotel.”

Had she rammed a hot knife into his chest and turned it, he would have suffered less of a shock.  For a split second his brain couldn’t process what she was saying.  Until it did. He’d never see her again.

He blinked.  “I don’t want that,” he said.

She pushed out of the bed, allowing the sheets to fall away from her body.  Just a foot away from him, she stood proudly regarding him in all her magnificent naked glory.  “It’s what I want.”  Then she strode past him and into the bathroom, soundly shutting the door behind her.

Flynn sat still. Stunned.  Rooted to the chair unable to process what this meant.  If she refused to have him near, how could he protect her? She was vulnerable.  Someone was gunning for her.  He wanted to know who and why, then exterminate them.

Then there was the matter of Boris and Andre.  She wasn’t safe at the club.

When she reemerged, fully clothed in those tattered jeans and a midriff black tee, she moved past him to snatch her cell phone off the nightstand.

She tapped it open, made a few motions, then said, “There’s a text from my handler asking me to have you call him asap.”

She tapped Lover Boy’s number and handed Flynn the phone.

“Hey baby,” Maddox said.

“Hey baby, my ass,” Flynn groused.

“Ah, Ryker.  Is our girl in earshot?”

“Yes.”

“Then step away.”

Flynn put his hand over the phone and said, “Give me a sec,” then moved to the other side of the room.  “Go ahead.”

“We’re putting the brakes on the thumb drive for the moment. We’ve hit a snag with the court order.”

“How is that? It’s straightforward.”

“Judge is asking for more just cause.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Agreed.  But until we get the green light, that exchange is no-go.”

“Then she calls in sick until you get the signature,” Flynn said.  It wasn’t a question.

“We want her inside.”

Flynn moved out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.  “Fuck that.  She shows up without that thumb drive, there’s no telling what Andre will do to her.  I won’t risk it.”

“The only reason I’m even discussing this with you, Ryker, is because I know you’ve got a hard-on for her. So listen up: We’ve got it from a good source that Miroslav Bushnik, Sorlov’s Russian liaison, is coming in from Ukraine.  Our intel is unclear if he’s already here or on his way. Regardless, we need Miss Fuentes to be our eyes and ears in the club.  If he shows, we want her to drop a bug on him.”

Flynn nearly blew his top. “Not going to happen.”

“You don’t have an official voice in this, Ryker.  Either stand down or I’ll slap an obstruction charge on you so fast your head’ll spin.”