No question the strong female type appealed to him. So did that body, fit yet curvy. Hips that would fit his hands. Every other part of her perfect for licking and tasting. He never fucked on a job. He viewed an assignment as just that, a file he memorized and a body he watched over. Emotionless and straightforward. But with her he saw a woman, smart-mouthed, determined not to be a victim, competent and hard to scare.

So fucking hot.

But he’d been hired to protect her and that put her on the off-limits list . . . no matter what his dick thought.

She’d left her black-ops position with the CIA after a lengthy negotiation through her attorney, and an extraction agreement stored in a vault somewhere proved it. The pages of legalese spelled out her rights and responsibilities, and acted as a supposed guarantee that she would not be harmed. They both knew better. A pile of papers wouldn’t stop some ticked-off asshole in power from taking her out. From deciding she knew too much or made a wrong move.

Back when she had a job she’d been brave and determined. Refused to take a seat when the idiot men in her office had insisted she be quiet and blend in. That kind of shit made enemies. Which was why she needed him right now. Just for a short time. His presence as bodyguard added some assurance no one could get to her. That was the theory anyway.

Now he just had to convince her of his value.

He would watch her while his brother Andy and the rest of his team looked for signs of an impending attack against her. Once they were convinced the extraction agreement would hold and she’d remain safe, she could go lead whatever life she wanted and he’d go back to the office and his next assignment. Simple and efficient. He’d played this game many times. Unfortunately, Natalie didn’t appear all that excited about her role as potential target.

As if she read his mind, she started talking again. “I don’t need your protection.”

She’d been saying the same thing for what felt like hours. So many times that the refrain ran through his brain even when she wasn’t talking. “I heard you.”

“Then unlock the door, let me out and point me in the direction of my house.”

Thanks to all her time at The Farm, the CIA’s top secret training facility in Virginia, and who knew where else, Gabe guessed she’d get along just fine with so little direction. She’d somehow find her way back from their undisclosed location to wherever she intended to hide. Then she’d probably get shot in the head.

Yeah, not on his watch. “You’re staying with me.”

“You don’t get to decide.”

“I actually do.” He had a work contract in his office back at his company, Tosh Industries, that trumped her denials. She might not like the protection but her friends, concerned friends who were players among the Washington, D.C., power elite, had arranged it for her, paid for it, and she agreed in front of them. Now she was stuck. Gabe intended to see the operation through even if he had to lock her in a closet and sit in front of the door to keep her there and safe.

She continued to tap those fingers against the tabletop. “I’m a grown woman.”

“Believe me, I know.” He’d eyed every inch of her. Watched her walk and studied her file. He hadn’t seen her naked, but he could guess. That confidence, the swish of those hips. It all played in his mind on an endless loop until he ached with the need to strip that proper navy suit off her.

She froze in her chair. “I make my own decisions.”

“Not right now.” He did. He was in charge. He meant for work, but the idea of taking control in every other way appealed to him, too. Way more than it should.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He suddenly needed to say the words, to clue her in that she had him on edge. “Your body belongs to me.”

Tension flooded the room. Quick and without warning. Heat surged through him. Her big blue eyes blinked. She didn’t say anything, which should have been a relief, but Gabe felt anything but calm. His skin drew tight, felt stretched, his stomach hollow. The need to fuck her gripped him.

She leaned forward, not a big change in position. No, very subtle, almost imperceptible. “Excuse me?”

He cleared his throat. “For now. Until we know you’re out of danger. I decide what happens with you.”

Adding the context didn’t help to settle the energy pinging around the room. He shifted in his seat across from her and tried to rein in the thoughts bombarding him. She was a job, and an annoying one. When the first mental reminder failed, he tried again.

Most people appreciated his protection once they got over the shock of the cost. He didn’t do everyday shit. His business focused on covert, need-to-know cases. He didn’t advertise or go looking for work. Jobs came to him by reputation and through people who knew all the dirty little secrets. And the never-ending flood of those in Washington, D.C., kept him very busy.

He eyed the water bottle in front of her, thinking she’d have to take a breath or a drink soon. “I can name three members of your old team at the agency—the team you ran for the CIA—who are now dead.”

She shrugged. “Things happen.”

Like a fireball written off as a gas explosion. A murder-by-vehicle explained away as a fluke car accident. Accidental shootings, random robberies gone wrong. Gabe had seen it all, and so had she, which was why she needed to stop fighting and let him help.

“I’m not in the mood for games.” He needed to stand up, pace around. He forced his body to stay still.

“Which means what?”

“Give me some credit and don’t pretend I don’t know how your business works.”

She finally grabbed the water bottle. Held it. Tapped the bottom against the desk. “My old business. I’m unemployed. I followed my instincts, protected my team, and my boss pulled my security clearance. I couldn’t even get the okay to take a public tour of the building these days.”

He’d picked this office building as a neutral stop before they took off because it sat miles away from her condo in Washington, D.C., and her office at Langley. Outside the metro area. He’d hustled her out and kept her under wraps. But they needed to keep moving. They actually had a plane to catch. Not that she knew that, but it meant they were on a timetable and if she didn’t work with him soon he’d have to take drastic steps.

Just thinking about what that meant started a countdown ticking in his head. “You have five minutes.”

“Then what?” She rolled the water bottle between her palms. “You shoot me?”

This woman never stopped. He pushed, she pushed back. He just wished he knew why he found the back and forth so fucking hot. “Tempting.”

“Keep in mind I’m an expert with weapons.”

If he were the eye roll type, now would be the time. Since he wasn’t, he stood up instead. If he needed to implement Plan B he wanted to be on his feet. “I’m better.”

Her gaze followed him around the small conference room. “Are you trying to intimidate me?”

“Do I?”

“I’ll ignore that.” She stopped playing with the bottle and unscrewed the cap. A ripping sound cut through the room as she broke the seal.

Thanks to that death grip he half expected the plastic bottle to explode in her hand. “You now have four minutes.”

“It doesn’t matter, because in three minutes I’m going to get up and walk out of here.” She took a long drink then refastened the lid. “Without you following at my heels.”

She managed to make something so mundane look sexy but at least she finally drank from the damn bottle. Gabe mentally switched back to Plan A. “If you look around you’ll see a lack of windows and one door.”

“So?”

“You have to get through me before you can get out, and I think you’re too smart to pick that option.” But suddenly he wanted like hell for her to try.

She stood up and her balance faltered. Slightly and just for a second. With a hand against the table, she righted her body again. Then she came straight at him. Stopped right in front of him and in her high spiky heels almost met him eye to eye. Their bodies didn’t touch but the thin layer of air between them didn’t act as much of a deterrent.