“Like I said, Princess, not a chance you’re going back anytime soon.”
“You can’t keep me here,” she hissed. “The resistance has never had support this strong. The people are ready!”
He leaned in close, his light eyes blazing with blue fire. “I made a promise to your father, and it’s one I’m going to keep.”
His insistent declaration both chilled and warmed her. She feared for anyone who would try to harm her. Every part of her believed in Daemon. She still lifted her chin and said, “If you expect my cooperation, then you’d better treat me as a client. Keep things professional.” For his sake, she whispered her demand so as not to draw the attention of his workers.
Daemon smirked. “Fine by me, Princess.” He popped a piece of bread in his mouth and looked away.
Zuri glanced in his direction as she played with the sauce on her plate. Daemon didn’t regard her. A sense of rejection filled her, and her irritation rose. It was a silly thought; there was no reason for the two of them to entertain anything beyond a professional-client relationship. He lived here in the United States and had a very busy job running around the world protecting clients like her. She would return to Bendola.
The two of them would never meet again.
As rejection fizzled, and a feeling of loss replaced it. Emotionally spent, Zuri excused herself and returned to her room. Within seconds of slipping under the covers and into fresh, soft sheets, she closed her eyes and fell into a dream of her father leading a free Bendola—one that would never come true.
CHAPTERTWELVE
He had seen her repeated glances and ignored every one of them, steeling himself against both his desire to look into those lovely brown eyes and the anger from her rejection. Her chastisement had pierced him to the core, striking a ton of nerves along the way and bolstering his resolve.
If you expect my cooperation, then you’d better treat me as a client. Keep things professional.
Then she hadn’t felt the same way he did about the kiss. He should’ve kept it professional, but he figured she had enjoyed it as much as he.That’s what you get for assuming. It was her grief. She never wanted your kiss.Daemon then picked up a cookie from a plate Blaine had set on the coffee table in front of him.Dangerous move.Daemon had shoved the first of ten cookies into his mouth.
After Zuri left the room, Daemon had congratulated himself on his willpower. He wanted nothing more than to stare at the beautiful refugee. Get a kiss for hurting his feelings. He’d settle for distance. Safer for both of them. After all, she was his client. He wouldn’t give her any more ammunition to undermine his authority.
Daemon lay on the weight bench and adjusted his hands around the bar. If he hadn’t eaten that last cookie, maybe he could’ve skipped these last two sets.Not only is she messing with my mind, I’m gaining weight.If he kept eating cookies the way he was, he’d bust his pants.
He typically worked out with one of the guys, but he didn’t want a spotter today. He’d been going hard for the last thirty minutes, and it was working, filling him with endorphins, lightening his mood. When sleep failed to banish thoughts of her, he figured hitting the gym would. He could conquer anything, including his attraction to Zuri.
After lifting the bar, he blasted out a breath. He lowered the bar and grunted with each raised rep. Sweat ran down his face, and he blinked to keep the sting of salt from his eyes. He was going to finish this set strong, no matter what.
One last groan and he dropped the bar on the rest. His arms flopped down, and he smiled. One more and he would’ve needed a spotter to keep from dropping it on his chest. Another example of how Zuri was causing him to make poor decisions. First he kissed her, and then he was lifting heavy without a partner. Who knew what would come next?
If he were his father, the answer would be obvious. He’d shower and make his way to her room. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and most of the house was quiet. Only the night shift was up in the control area, monitoring activities. Despite her demand that he control himself and be professional, it took two to kiss—and she had done her part very well.
No more bad decisions.His mind banished the image of Zuri and replaced it with Jeremy. Another bad decision that cost a life.
Daemon groaned and sat up. Seeing Jeremy’s bloody face extinguished the endorphins he’d built to fight the memory of Zuri’s rejection. Thinking about his best friend’s death overwhelmed him.
You have to forgive yourself,the military-appointed therapist had told him. How could he? The suggestion was dishonoring to his friend’s name. It was Daemon’s fault and he should’ve paid the price. He never went to another session.
Think about your father. You need a plan.His father he could handle. Gratitude filled Daemon at the thought that his father wanted to pass the torch to him. Daemon had worked hard in the military and in building his business to be worthy of the chance to succeed his father. It was just sooner than he had expected. Maybe when he turned forty or fifty when his bones screamed for him to ease up and not propel down the side of a mountain to infiltrate enemy territory. When he had more confidence to take the risks required to be a man as wealthy and as powerful as Arthur Knight.
His father saw only one solution: for Daemon to grow up. Had he been avoiding a greater destiny to be with his friends and play with the latest tech gadgets and get the adrenaline rushes he craved?
Daemon stood at the exact moment he heard the gym door close. He spotted a wide-eyed Zuri in a loose top and leggings. So she’d found the closet. Daemon had stocked it with clothing he thought would fit her. Dresses for meetings with senators, jeans and t-shirts. He’d even picked out a couple of lingerie pieces for bedtime. His eyes drifted down her form, and he told himself he was confirming his ability to guess a woman’s size. The form-fitting wear emphasized her long, slender legs. Would it be unprofessional to ask if the lingerie fit? He might’ve bought the sets in a size too small.
“I didn’t know anyone would be in here.”
Her eyes left his face and landed on his bare chest. Today had to be the day he didn’t wear a shirt. That was one decision Daemon didn’t guilt himself over. “Don’t let me stop you. Use whatever you want.”
She took a step back. “I just wanted to…”
Work out some frustration? That’s what Daemon believed she’d left unsaid. He was doing the same. She tentatively stepped into the room her stride slow as she eyed the different cardio equipment. Everything was state-of-the-art and the most advanced models. She stepped onto a treadmill, tapped the screen a few times, and started walking. Daemon tried not to concentrate on the tall beauty bewitching him and sucking his attention, but with so many mirrors on the walls, her form filled every corner of the expansive room. She kept her gaze forward on the treadmill’s mounted television monitor while Daemon couldn’t pull his gaze from her backside.
This wasn’t going to work.
Daemon dropped the dumbbell he had picked up to do bicep curls back on the rack. He couldn’t work out with her in here. Too much distraction. Why did she have to look so fresh in the morning? If her cute hair puff sitting on the top of her head was all out of shape or if she came in with ten-pound bags under her eyes, he could work out. But she came in looking like she walked off a runway. Did her father realize what he had asked Daemon to do?Am I arrogant if I think I can protect her without involving my emotions?
