Under His Protection (15 page)

He actually snorted. “Well, that’s
ridiculous. They’d say you’re very talented. Because you are.”

He said it so matter of fact, as if she had
no reason to doubt herself. “It’s not that easy, Mason. The people
in my life, they wouldn’t approve.”

“Why not? Blake, if you worked hard enough
you could probably show your paintings in an art gallery. I think
you’re that good.”

She laughed again, both nervous and excited.
The idea of showing her art to various strangers mingling in a
gallery was so surreal she couldn’t wrap her head around it. “I
don’t think so. I’m not
that
good. And besides, my father
wouldn’t approve.”

“Why wouldn’t he? You have talent and you
should do something with it. I think he’d want that for you,
especially if it makes you happy.”

She studied him, realization dawning with
every word he just spoke. “You see things very black and white
don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s either this. Or that. No shades
of gray, no in between for you.”

He thought about it for a moment, and then
shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”

“I don’t see anything that way.” She smiled
but it felt weak, and suddenly she was so weary. “There are always
shades of gray in my life, because I can’t take anyone for their
word. If my father saw my paintings, I know he wouldn’t approve. He
doesn’t approve of anything I do. That’s why I keep this part of me
a secret. If he found out about my art and disapproved, that would
cut me to the quick.”

She backed away from him, her shoulders
hunched and suddenly she felt very, very small. “It would mean he
doesn’t approve of me. The real me. And that hurts.”

Mason didn’t say a word. He just stared at
her, reminding her of how they used to be, their previous and
strange relationship. She’d complain about her family or her life
to him for hours and he’d just listen, not saying a thing.

She’d always liked it then. Her big, quiet
Secret Service agent confidant. A man she could spill all her
secret complaints to and he would never say a thing in return.
Never reveal any of it to anyone. Just their little secret.

Now, though, she wanted a reaction.

“And my mother,” she continued, more than
ready to go on a roll. “She’d tell me it was pretty, but use that
condescending tone she always has when she only talks to me. She’s
never believed in me my entire life, so why should I expect
anything more?”

“Do you really believe your parents wouldn’t
want you to be happy?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” The words burst
from her and she breathed deep, almost relieved to get this all off
her chest. “My father wanted a boy but he got me. He even named me
after my grandfather, for God’s sake. Wishful thinking I guess.

And my mother, she’s never been interested
in me. She’d rather redecorate the house, or go to lunch with her
friends or go buy something, anything to avoid spending time with
me.”

Mason took a step forward. His gaze was
intent, serious and he reached for her, grabbing her hand. “Your
father cares for you, Blake. He’s just watching out for your best
interests. He doesn’t want you to get in any trouble.”

“It feels like he’s trying to keep me down.”
She shouldn’t have mentioned her parents, her father. Now she was
sad, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t want anything to bring her
down during her sacred time with Mason.

Their time together was limited. She needed
to savor it.

“You two are too alike.” He squeezed her
hand and tugged her close, slipping his other arm around her waist.
“That’s why you struggle and argue and frustrate each other. Maybe
you should make a peace offering. With a painting made special for
him. He could hang it in his office.”

“Oh, Mason.” Just the idea of that,
presenting her father with such a personal gift, so fearful of his
reaction, made her stomach flutter with nerves. “I don’t know if I
could ever do that.”

“Well, think about it.” He kissed the tip of
her nose, the gesture so tender, so sweet, it took her breath away.
“You have a lot to be proud of, Blake. Don’t get too hung up on
what everyone thinks and do what you think is right for you.”

“When I do that, I usually get in
trouble.”

“That’s because you want to get in trouble.
Do something that brings you joy, not something that brings someone
else misery.”

When did he become so wise? Had he been wise
all along and she hadn’t realized it?

“You’re so good for me,” she whispered,
meaning every word. He was. He kept her grounded, and he was honest
to the point that it sometimes angered her. But she needed that,
needed someone who saw past her bullshit and found the real
her.

She’d never been this real for anyone
before. Not her parents, not her handful of supposed friends, not
any of the men she’d been involved with, and there had been so
few.

Blake couldn’t imagine her life without
Mason now.

The flicker she saw in the depths of his
vivid green eyes made her freeze, her heart crack the slightest
bit. She’d said too much, gotten too serious and he was probably
silently freaking out.

“Blake...”

“Don’t say it.” She cut him off, rested her
fingers over his mouth, stroking his lips with a feather light
touch. She loved his mouth, the things he said, the way he kissed
her, touched her everywhere with those firm yet sensuous lips.

She loved everything about him. She loved
him.

Panic set her heart to racing and she
withdrew, turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the panic and the
love and the heart-wrenching foolishness of it all written all over
her face.

She studied the painting she’d started
earlier. The painting that had brought her so much joy now left a
bad taste in her mouth. Why did she have to go and let herself fall
in love with him? He could never return the feeling, no matter how
much she convinced herself he would.

God, she needed therapy. Or a drink. Maybe
even a cigarette and she hadn’t smoked since college. Panic hit,
full blown in its intensity, and she didn’t want to take it out on
him.

What she really wanted was for this to never
end and inevitably, it would. It had to. Everything good always
ended for her. Why couldn’t she for once keep the good stuff
going?

“What’s wrong?”

Blake turned at the sound of his deep voice
to find Mason standing before her with a confused expression
marring his handsome face. His dark brows furrowed, even his nose
was wrinkled and all she could think was how adorable he
looked.

Adorable and troubled—all because of her
stupid, foolish moods.

“Nothing,” she murmured before taking a deep
breath and flashing a too-bright smile. “I’m tired. I think I’m
going to take a nap.”

“Blake.” He stopped her from walking away,
his fingers curling around her forearm, his thumb brushing against
the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. “What just happened
there?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now. I
can’t do anything about it and neither can you.” She gave a gentle
tug but he wouldn’t let go. No, he held on tighter and pulled her
to him, so hard she collided with his hard chest. He stared down
into her face, his gaze roving over her every feature before
settling on her mouth.

“Don’t shut me out,” he said, his voice low
and husky, whispering along her every nerve ending. She loved his
voice, couldn’t imagine what it would be like to never hear it
again.

Her heart felt empty just thinking about
it.

“I’m not shutting you out.”
Liar.
“I’m tired, Mason. I want to go lay down.”

They stared at each other for a too long,
too quiet moment but she didn’t look away. Neither did he. They
were both being stubborn, waiting for the other to cave and she
refused to do it first.

No way could she tell him how she felt, only
to have her words thrown back in her face. The humiliation, the
heartbreak that was bound to come would happen soon enough. She
wasn’t in the mood for a big confrontation today.

“Can I join you?” He asked the question
carefully, as if he didn’t want to offend and she closed her eyes
for the briefest second, wishing she was strong enough to tell him
no. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, analyze her
ridiculous feelings. Figure out what she was going to do with
them.

But instead she said yes, and he grinned. A
dazzling, gorgeous smile that made her smile in return and when he
clasped her face with his hands and drew her in for a kiss, she
returned it, saying to him with her lips and tongue what she
couldn’t say with words.

That she loved him.

* * * *

Blake was hurting and he didn’t know
why.

Thrusting his fingers through his hair, he
sat on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep. She looked like
an angel. Her long blonde hair was strewn across the pillow, waving
and curling about her head in haphazard waves. Her lush, pink mouth
soft and vulnerable, her lips parted with her even, gentle
breathing.

He wished he could kiss all of her troubles
away. Offer her comfort by way of his body. Not his heart, never
his heart, it would be foolish to offer that to her.

The way she’d looked at him earlier, though.
When she’d told him he was good for her. He wanted to say she was
good for him in return. But the look on her face had scared him.
She’d appeared so hopeful, her eyes shining, her expression dreamy.
As if he was the reason for that dazed look on her face.

It was getting too heavy between them and it
made him nervous.

This
was why he didn’t do serious
relationships.
This
was why he didn’t have any type of
relationship anymore whatsoever. They caused him nothing but
heartbreak. Nothing but trouble, nothing but pain and he was
deathly afraid what might happen when it was over with Blake.

Because it would be over, of that he had no
doubt. It couldn’t last, no matter how much fun they were having,
how compatible they were. They were from two different worlds,
worlds that clashed and collided with each other, but once the
battle burned out, it was done.

Their moment together was dimming. Time was
coming to an end and she’d need to return to DC soon. She didn’t
want to go. Neither did he.

They both much preferred their simple little
cocoon versus the bustle of politics and big city life.

What would happen when the relationship
ended? Would Blake freak out? When they returned to Washington and
he resumed his normal duties and she her regular life, would she
chuck him under the bus and reveal their affair? It would ruin him.
He’d probably be taken off presidential and White House protection
forever. Transferred out, reassigned to some shitty, boring town
where nothing happened. Or worse, they’d ship him out of the
country and put him on dangerous counterfeiter detail.

Even though Blake was a grown woman with a
mind of her own, they’d still blame him. And he was willing to take
full responsibility, despite the humiliation. The vice president
would know Mason had sex with his daughter. He didn’t think he
could face the man if he ever found out.

Mason sat there, felt the edge of the
mattress sink lopsided with his weight and he rested his hands over
his face. What had he done? Why had he taken such a risk? All for a
woman he wanted to get naked with—had it been worth it?

He remembered the raw emotion he’d seen on
her face just moments ago, the subtle tremble of her hands and arms
when he drew her into his embrace. The tumble of feelings that had
consumed her, he’d seen them written all over her face. She’d
looked so sad, so lost and it killed him that he was the one to
make her look like that. Feel like that.

Was it all a ruse to get him to feel sorry
for her? He wanted to believe in Blake, wanted to feel secure that
she would never betray him, never go crazy on him. He’d had a few
girlfriends in his past that went a little psycho, one in
particular who’d lost it when he informed her he had to move due to
a promotion.

She’d already been resentful that he spent
all of his time working. She’d also hoped that he was planning to
take their relationship to the next level, i.e. an engagement. That
had so not been in the cards for him.

When he’d told her about the promotion, she
went ballistic. Had even gone to his workplace and tried to
badmouth him, not that any of his superiors had listened. Her
betrayal had been such a violation of their trust, their
relationship. She’d been a woman he’d cared about deeply.

All of that had been dashed the minute she
went nuts on him. And because of that, he’d been wary of
relationships ever since.

Christ. He was sick and damn tired of being
wary.

He scrubbed his hands over his face once,
twice. Yes, he could admit everything he’d shared with Blake had
been worth it. The sex between them was like nothing he’d ever
experienced before. The most intense pleasure every single time,
and it amazingly increased with every encounter.

Their shared and constant conversation was
more of that unbelievable experience. She was smart, sweet, fun.
She had a devilish sense of humor and liked to tease him. He wasn’t
one for being teased, but he enjoyed it when it came from her. The
light in her eyes when she gave him a hard time, the way she smiled
at him. It brightened her whole face and it was such an achingly
beautiful face...

He especially liked the way she watched him
with those big blue eyes, as if anything and everything he did
pleased her. He liked doing things for her, taking care of her
beyond his role as the SS agent in charge.

And when he touched her, or when she touched
him, it was as if they couldn’t resist. One touch led to two, then
to three and then...it didn’t stop. They never wanted it to stop.
Hell, he always ended up naked and thrusting deep within her
welcoming body. Filling her up every chance he got.