Under His Protection (7 page)

Nah. He doubted it would help. No matter if
he got to know her better—and he already thought he knew her pretty
well—he would still have the same sex-filled thoughts. Really
getting to know her, actually forming an emotional attachment would
only make it worse.

“I need to make a couple of phone calls.
Buzz me if you need me,” he said gruffly, veering toward the front
door of the small cottage he stayed at.

Calling Jerry in there would ensure him the
privacy he needed. No way could he have Blake hear this particular
conversation.

“Fine. Whatever,” she said over her
shoulder, not even bothering to look at him.

Shit. That kind of hurt. Maybe she was
doling out a bit of his own medicine.

He went into the cottage and pulled his cell
phone out of his pocket. Hitting Jerry’s number on speed dial, he
paced the living room while the phone rang, anxiety eating him up
inside. Jerry finally answered on the third ring. Mason had never
been so happy to hear his partner and friend’s voice.

“I need a huge favor,” he started and Jerry
laughed.

“That bad out there?”

“Hell, yes. Get me out of here, Jer. I’ll
owe you big time if you could trade this shift out. Work the entire
duration here on the island for me and I’ll do whatever you
want.”

“Man, I’d love to bail you out bro. But
hell, I can’t. I’m just as trapped as you are.”

Mason slumped into an overstuffed chair,
rubbing the tips of his fingers across his eyebrows. “Why not?”

“My wife needs me here. She’s having surgery
next week. Minor, it’s no big deal, but she won’t be able to take
care of the kids and she needs me to help out around the house in
the evening.” Jerry paused. “Sorry, man. Can anyone else
cover?”

Crap. Byron had told him why Jerry couldn’t
come with him to California but he’d gotten so wrapped up in his
own problems, he forgot. “I doubt it. The election is just around
the corner. I’m surprised they let you off the hook.” Mason
couldn’t help the jealousy that tinged his voice.

“I asked for the time off months ago. They
asked me to compromise, so we settled on part-time duty through the
duration of the campaign.” Jerry paused. “It’s a normal stint,
pretty low-key. You can cover that by yourself, no problem. Right
boss?” Jerry sometimes liked to call him boss, had done so since
they were first paired up.

He gritted his teeth, determined not to
sound like a whiny ass. “I’ll be fine. It’s just…I don’t know.”

He’d never discussed his feelings for Blake,
not with anyone.

“She flashed you her tits or something?”
Jerry laughed, the jackass, and Mason knew he couldn’t admit how
close Jerry was to what Blake had done last night.

“No, she’s just a—handful.”

“I’ll say. A pretty little handful who
enjoys nothing more than trying to get your attention. You haven’t
noticed that, boss?”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he said grimly. “But
there’s nothing I can do about it.” Frustration made him want to
choke but he swallowed past it.

“Right, right. Well, she certainly is a
passionate little thing. You better keep her under control while
you’re out there on the west coast, missing all the action.”

“You’re missing the action too, my
friend.”

“I’m creating my own action here at home.”
Jerry chuckled. “Chasing and corralling my kids. Fat lot of good
it’s doing me, though. They’ve overtaken the house.”

He sounded pissed, but Mason knew Jerry
loved his children more than anything. “You’re loving every minute
of it.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jerry chuckled. “Just
stay strong, boss. Do your time, do your job and everything’s going
to be fine.”

Mason wished he could believe what Jerry
said.

Everything’s going to be fine.

It was all a crock of shit. Given the chance
again, he’d probably pounce on Blake and tear her clothes off with
his freaking teeth, he was so hot for her. Maul her body with his
hands, mouth and cock. Make sure she loved every minute of it too.
Hell, he’d have her begging for more. She wanted him. He knew
it.

Jesus.
He sounded like an out of
control asshole even in his thoughts.

“You’re right, Jer. I’ll be fine. Don’t you
worry about me.” His reassurance sounded weak even to his own
ears.

“Oh, I’m not worried about you. I’m worried
about that poor little Blake Hewitt. She’s a lonely one, boss. You
can’t tinker with her heart, you know. She’ll fall apart.”

Just the reminder he needed to hear. She
acted like she was made of steel but her vulnerability hovered
right there on the edge. She desperately tried to keep it under
control, always trying her best to appear strong, prove to the
world she was a fighter. But she wasn’t. She was scared, so very
lost, though no one seemed to notice.

He did.

“I’m not going to tinker with her
heart.”

“Well, don’t fool around with that sweet
body of hers, either, my man.” Jerry blew out a harsh breath. “If
Lacy heard me talk like this, she’d have my hide.”

Mason didn’t like hearing him say those
things about Blake, either. “And with good reason too. Neither of
us should be talking about her this way.”

“Hell no, we shouldn’t.”

Yet another reminder Mason needed. The wrath
of James Hewitt would be deadly. Something Mason never wanted to
deal with.

“I gotta go,” Mason finally said, sinking
further into the plush chair. “Sorry to bug you.”

“Hey boss, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you
out. Blake doesn’t act the same way with me as she does you. Of
course, she’s not trying to tempt a chubby old fart like me,
either.”

They laughed, Mason hanging up soon after
but Blake still haunted his thoughts.

As usual.

He’d wondered more than once if her behavior
toward him was how she acted toward every man she met. Deep down,
he knew it wasn’t.

Maybe, just maybe, she wanted only him and
no one else.

Mason snorted and shook his head. Hell, a
man could dream.

Chapter Five

“You’re not causing any trouble out there,
are you?”

Blake sighed. Unbelievable. Her father sent
her away almost a week ago so he wouldn’t have to deal with her.
She hadn’t heard from him in days, yet he called her up out of the
blue and accused her of bad behavior.

“Causing trouble is never my intent, Father.
You know this.” She called him father on purpose, keeping it
formal. She’d kept it formal for years.

“I don’t want to hear any outrageous stories
coming from Russell. You need to stay home, stay low key.”

Anger spiked her blood pressure and she
closed her eyes, searching for peace. He always thought the
absolute worst of her. She was sick of it. “I’m not doing anything
outrageous, trust me.” She actually started painting a couple of
days ago, all the gorgeous fall colors, the turning leaves
inspiring her. She’d locked herself up in her studio for hours each
day, painting furiously. Not bothering to talk to Mason or tell him
what she was doing.

Earlier today, she had lunch at the Whitney
Café, visiting with Suzanne and making plans to get together later
in the week.

She refused to talk to Mason beyond the
cursory polite comments or telling him her plans for the day when
he asked. It was easier that way. Supposedly.

Mason had come with her to lunch, always her
shadow. Lurking outside the cafe, he’d kept watch on her, though he
wasn’t as obvious as last time. He’d eventually ordered a sandwich
and sat on the patio, close enough that she could see him. Suzanne
had never questioned it and Blake had felt the need to make up a
story about paranoid parents and a bodyguard.

It was as close to the truth as she could
get.

They’d kept a certain distance, she and
Mason, both physical and emotional, and she’d grown somewhat used
to it. They went about their business, Mason spending most of his
day in the smaller cabin working if Blake stayed home. If she went
out, he followed.

“Things are going well here. Numbers are up
and support is strong,” her dad said, tearing Blake from her
thoughts.

“That’s great.” She should care, really she
should. But she’d become numb to it all. He’d been absent
practically her entire life and she’d grown used to it. This
election was more important to him than anything else.

Certainly more important than his family,
she knew this from personal experience.

“I’d like you to be back here on Election
Day, preferably the night before.” His voice lowered and he sounded
almost pained. “It would please me to have your support,
Blake.”

Tears threatened and she swallowed hard,
refusing to cry. Crying got her nowhere in front of this man. It
usually made him angrier, frustrated, whatever. Tears never got a
positive reaction. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll be
there.”

“Perfect. It’ll look good, surrounded by my
beautiful wife and daughter, a nice photo op for the various media
that’ll be in attendance. You know how much they love those.”

Right. That’s all she was useful for, a
photo op. Well, unless she got snapped in a bikini. Then she became
a photo disaster.

“I have to go,” she choked out, hardly able
to speak. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she let it,
didn’t bother wiping it away. As if she wanted to feel that tear
burn into her heated skin. “Bye.”

Blake hung up, barely hearing her father’s
goodbye. She set the phone carefully on the end table and perched
on the edge of the couch, clutching her knees so tight, her
knuckles went white.

She felt like a useless little princess set
up high in the castle tower. Only brought out when necessary, for
appearance’s sake, and then banished to a remote island for bad
behavior. Like she was some sort of criminal.

It didn’t matter how much she loved Whitney
Island, how she despised the hustle and bustle and constant
speculation she dealt with in DC. It still hurt that he shipped her
out here, not caring about what
she
wanted to do.

But at least here on the island, she could
be herself and not worry what others thought.

Well, with the exception of Mason. She
constantly worried over what he thought about her. Not that he
cared a whit for her beyond the, “I work for you and I must protect
you” mode. Idiot. Blind, stubborn idiot. He drove her crazy.

A knock sounded on the front door and then
he appeared, as if conjured up from her imagination. His gaze met
hers, his eyes widening in surprise when he took in her woeful
state. Slamming the door behind him, his long strides ate up the
floor as he approached. He stopped short, just in front of her, his
gaze lingering on her face. “Are you all right?”

Blake wiped at the tears streaking down her
face with the back of her hand, sniffing loudly. She sounded like a
little kid, but she didn’t care. No one took her seriously anyway,
so what was the point?

Oh, my. Sometimes a pity party was just what
a girl needed.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” She
hiccupped, not even trying to get her crying under control. “What
do you want?”

Mason paused, studying her, gauging the
entire situation. His agent mindset was at work, she could
practically see the cogs turning in his brain. She waited
impatiently for his reply.

“I wanted to check in,” he said carefully.
“See if you have plans tomorrow. I have a conference call at
ten.”

She shook her head, pushed her hair from her
shoulder. “I’m staying home.”

“Not seeing your friend?” His lips
tightened. He didn’t like Suzanne, why, she wasn’t sure.

“We’re getting together Friday.” At least
she had something to look forward to.

He didn’t move and she gazed up at him. He
frowned, his eyes darkening. “You’re crying.”

She wiped at yet another tear, taking a deep
breath. She needed to get a grip, needed to control herself in
front of this man. “I’m fine, really.” She smiled but it was
tremulous at best.

Mason crouched before her, so close she
could make out the gold flecks in his green eyes, the thick, dark
lashes that surrounded them. Those eyes were downright girly,
would’ve give him a feminine cast if not for the raw masculine bone
structure of his face. The harsh lines of his cheekbones, the
strong, stubborn jaw and the slightly crooked nose that he must’ve
broken before, his features were so dear to her.

“You never cry. What upset you?” he
asked.

“Nothing. Family stuff.” She shrugged. “You
wouldn’t understand.”

Oh God, he reached out and touched her.
Those long, strong fingers rested on her knee, giving it a gentle
squeeze. It was as if he squeezed all the air from her lungs.

“Try me,” he murmured.

At his urging, Blake began to cry in
earnest.

* * * *

Ah Christ, what did he do wrong? He didn’t
know how to deal with a crying woman, especially a crying Blake. He
knelt in front of her, his hand still resting on her knee, feeling
helpless as she balled her eyes out.

Mason was baffled. She never, ever cried.
He’d seen her angry, frustrated, antagonistic, even a little
melancholy, but he’d never seen her like this.

He needed to do something, offer her some
sort of comfort. Standing to his full height, he sat beside her on
the couch and awkwardly yanked her into his arms, her head resting
against his chest. Her tears dampened his shirt and she clung to
him, clutched his shoulders with shaky fingers, her face nestled
close against his heart.

Cradling her, he smoothed his hands down her
back, wanting to soothe her, wanting to stop the heartbreaking
crying. Because it
was
heartbreaking. She sounded so
desolate. As if it had been pent up within her for months and the
dam had finally broke.

She didn’t say a word and he didn’t speak
either, just communicated his sympathy for her with his touch. He
was tempted to do more.