ALARM COURSED THROUGH Jake’s blood the second his lips were on hers, but he ignored it. They’d already crossed the line, hadn’t they? Hell, they’d probably crossed the line the minute they’d walked into the cabin yesterday, if he was being honest with himself. Not that he wanted to be honest right now. He just wanted more. More softness. More of her lips, which were brushing gently against his, opening, inviting.
Her fresh scent enveloped him when she wrapped her arms tighter, and he groaned, splaying his fingers across her slender back. This was wrong. No matter how safe it seemed, it would come back to haunt him. He knew that. But as his lips angled across hers, and his tongue slid into her sweet mouth, the heat he found inside was intoxicating. He sank into her, returning her kisses, drawing her closer. Getting lost in her arms.
Trailing kisses across her cheeks and down her slender neck, he threaded one hand through her hair and cupped the back of her head as he bent forward, capturing her mouth again.
She let out a soft moan, and her warm hands drifted to the side of his face. She kissed him feverishly, and then her lips broke free and settled in the crook of his jaw. She whispered his name. “Jake. Jake, I want—”
“Carolina,” he answered in a rush of breath. His eyes closed, he dragged his hand from her back to caress the side of her breast. Even though she wore a couple of layers, he could tell that one of those layers wasn’t a bra. His jaw tightened as he imagined her naked breasts. He wanted to taste them . . . and he could. Because she would let him.
Desire crashed through him, rushing straight down, making him swell in an instant. He opened his eyes and looked into hers, which were half-lidded with lust. Her head was still pillowed in his palm.
“Touch me,” she said. “Please.”
On instinct, he shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You can.” She settled her fingers over his, pushing them around her breast.
“I can,” he admitted. He stared at her open mouth, aching to take it again. “But I won’t.”
She blinked. “We’ve already crossed the line, you know.”
“Not completely.” He let out a slow breath, lifted her back into a kneeling position and let his hands slide away from her body.
“Far enough.”
It was nowhere near far enough, but Jake couldn’t think about that right now. Clearing his throat, he stood up and offered her a hand. She stared at it, not moving.
“Carolina . . .”
“Why can’t we just enjoy each other?” She tilted her chin and stared up at him.
He shoved his hand in his pocket and turned away to walk into the kitchen. Once he was behind a counter, he adjusted the front of his jeans and reached for the coffee pot. Annoyance began to seep in, killing his lust. Good. He needed the distraction of being irritated, because she knew the answer to her own question. He shouldn’t have to spell it out.
“Why, Jake?”
He poured himself a mug and took a sip, buying time. Part of his job description was to reason with his protectees, but usually that meant explaining why, for security reasons, certain entrances, exits, and safety measures had to be used. It didn’t mean reasoning with a daughter of the president of the United States . . . who wanted to sleep with him. Especially since he’d just given her every indication that he wanted the same thing.
“Your life depends on it, that’s why.” He put down the mug and glanced at her, sitting on the floor by the fire, petite, and vulnerable. Her life depended on him. She stared back, her dark eyes calm, assessing. She didn’t look vulnerable. She looked like a woman formulating a plan.
Great. Maybe Courtney would be able to get through today, despite the high winds. Having another agent on the job would solve everything. Because right now? He didn’t trust himself alone with Carolina Fulton.
“My life is perfectly safe at the moment,” she said evenly. “I trust you with it.”
“You shouldn’t,” he muttered. “If we . . .” He gestured between them. “You know. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate should there be an emergency.”
Carolina rose and walked to the wall of windows on the back side of the living room. “An emergency that involved someone hiking miles up the road, tunneling their way through an avalanche, scaling the electric fence, avoiding the cameras on the property, and breaking through bullet-proof glass or five-inch thick doors?”
“Exactly. So you see my point.”
She glanced at him in disbelief and then back out the window. After a moment she sighed. “There’s something pulling us together. Something that feels right. You can’t deny that.”
No, he couldn’t. Jake turned around and braced his hands on the front of the stove. It was stone-cold underneath his warm hands. Cold, angular, and functional which was what he needed to be. It was what he had to be.
“Look. It’s not that I didn’t feel something. I mean, it’s obvious. I’m incredibly attracted to you, or I wouldn’t have made such an egregious mistake.” He raked a hand through his hair.
“Egregious?”
Behind him, Jake heard her walk across the hardwood floor. A few seconds later, she was tugging on his elbow. He turned around to find her eyes narrowed. Uh oh.
“Carolina . . .”
“Egregious?” she repeated. “We’re two human beings, for God’s sake.” Shaking her head, she took a couple of steps toward a cabinet and jerked it open, perusing the random collection of coffee mugs on the shelf. “You’re not a machine, Jake. And you’re not doing yourself any favors by acting like one.”
“I may be all business, but that’s what I was hired to do. I wasn’t hired to seduce a daughter of the president of the United States.” He leaned against the stove and folded his arms, realizing too late that his gaze fixated on her hips was definitely not business-like, because she looked over her shoulder with a small smile.
“The more you try not to seduce me, the more you seem to be accomplishing just that.” She plunked a mug on the counter and reached for the coffee pot. “And as for First Daughters and Secret Service agents . . . well, that’s happened before. President Ford’s daughter—Susan—even married one of them. Did you know that?”
“That was decades ago. And they divorced.”
Carolina took a sip of coffee. “Well, she was only twenty when they got married.”
“You’re not convincing me,” Jake said. He forced a chuckle. “And you and I both know that we’re not going to end up in the Rose Garden in formalwear. That’s ridiculous.”
Carolina shot him a look and took her coffee to the living room. “I wasn’t suggesting it, so you can get over yourself any time now.” She set the mug on the coffee table and began folding up the sofa bed.
Jake watched her for a moment, strangely wistful as the bed disappeared and the cushions were replaced. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“You didn’t,” she said quickly. “I just don’t see why you’re being so . . . chicken.”
He frowned. “Chicken? I’m protecting you.”
“From what? From myself?” She pushed the coffee table back in place and plopped onto the sofa, folding her legs underneath her.
“If need be.”
“How courteous of you, but there’s no need. I’m good, thanks.” She picked up her mug and stared out the windows.
Jake sighed and walked into the living room, pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Let me show you something.” Flicking it open, he tapped the web browser and sat beside her.
“What?” She scooted closer to him and leaned over his arm.
Glancing down at her smooth hair and the delicate curve of her shoulder, he cleared his throat. But he didn’t move away. Not even when she placed her hand on his arm to angle the phone closer.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Jake typed her name. “I’m googling you.”
She groaned. “Why?”
“To prove my point.”
“Which is?”
“That you and I have no business messing around. You don’t need the drama.” Glancing at her, he watched as the news results popped up on the screen. “See?”
“First daughter attacks fiancé,” she read. She was silent for a moment and then shrugged. “Well that’s just idiotic and doesn’t prove a thing. It’s from a gossip magazine.”
Jake scrolled down. “Carolina Fulton Shows Her Wild Side,” he read.
“Another gossip site.” She laughed, but the sound was forced. “What else?”
“President Fulton’s Peace Talks Sidelined by Daughter’s Problems.” Jake looked down at her frozen face and instantly felt bad. “Never mind. You don’t need to see—”
“Yes, I do.” She pulled the phone out of his hand and stared at it. “This is from The New York Times. Oh, no.”
Jake watched her carefully as she put a hand over her mouth and read silently. He shouldn’t have showed her that, but what else was he supposed to do to get it through her stubborn, lovely head? They couldn’t sleep together. It was impossible.
With a cough, he reached for the phone. “That’s enough. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to understand.”
She glanced at him. “I understand that you’re concerned about my reputation. So am I, but nothing you’ve said this morning convinces me that giving in to each other is a bad idea. Nobody will know.”
He stared at her for a few seconds. “God, you’re stubborn.”
She grinned. “I’m just stating the facts. I fight for what I want.”
“And you want me.” It wasn’t a question.
She slid closer and put her hands on his chest. “You want me too.” Her brown eyes were twinkling, but there was something about the set of her jaw and the hint of desperation around her mouth that made him draw back. She didn’t really want him. She wanted to be validated as a desirable woman. And he was the only man in her path. As much as he pushed away the thought, the realization stung his pride.
“I can’t have you,” he answered slowly. “And I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t make a habit of starting something with a woman on the rebound.”
Her smile froze in place. “Excuse me?”
“You’re trying to forget about Roger.”
“I barely remembered him when he and I were together,” she said. “And that’s the truth.” Her hands dropped away and she stood up. “But don’t worry about it, Jake. Making you uncomfortable is not my intention.” With a cool nod, she picked up her coffee mug and walked back into the kitchen.
“Carolina, I didn’t mean—”
“I think I’ll get my cameras out,” she interrupted. “Maybe take a few photos before the weather closes in and the light is lost.”
“Okay.” He rose and pocketed his phone. “I’ll get my coat.”
“No need. I’m out of practice, so I’ll just putter around inside.” She raised her chin. “You hate the cold, and like I said, I don’t intend to make you uncomfortable.”
Turning on her heel, she walked past the pantry and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Jake let out a long breath. It didn’t matter what she intended. He was more than uncomfortable. His heart raced, his body ached to be with her and his thoughts. Jumbled like balls in a lottery machine and everyone knew when the numbers were chosen, almost nobody came up a winner. It was pointless to try and make sense of anything; now the only thing he could do was his job.
WHEN CAROLINA CLOSED the bedroom door, it was with tingling fingers. Her whole body tingled, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. It was a foreign feeling, but vaguely familiar at the same time because the last time she’d so thoroughly embarrassed herself like that had been ten years ago.
She’d been fifteen and posing for a staged photo with her family in the formal parlor of the governor’s mansion in Cheyenne. Even then she’d had this thing for men who projected intelligence, competence, and self-reliance. She admired them. Imagined herself with them. At fifteen, that didn’t mean a whole lot more than fantasizing about having them escort her to the prom, but she had still ached with every teenage hormone in her body to be swept off her feet by a self-assured man.
At that time, her sights were focused on too-handsome-for-his-own-good Tom, who worked as her mom’s administrative assistant. He was cocky, great at running the busy schedule of a governor’s wife and made sure everyone knew it. Since Marie’s office was at the mansion, he was there every day and always took a moment to kiss ass by joking around with the governor’s kids. But she hadn’t been a kid. Not that Tom had realized that, because he’d treated her as one. She’d been stick-thin back then and wore a 32-A bra. Pathetic in her skewed teenage estimation.
So the day of the formal family portrait, she’d taken a look in the mirror at her taffeta party dress, which hung from her shoulders like a sack, and marched into the bathroom for handfuls of tissues. She’d ruthlessly shoved them into her bra until some form took shape on her chest. Then she’d marched right down the grand staircase and into the parlor, not looking anywhere but straight at Tom, who sat in a side chair scribbling notes for the photographer.
When he’d looked up, his eyes had zeroed in on her chest, gone round with surprise, and then—horribly—he’d started laughing. Oh, he’d tried to cover it by coughing, but she knew. Knew instantly and deep down, that he found her ridiculous.
So without hesitating, she’d whipped out a tissue and handed it to him, calmly telling him that her dress didn’t have pockets and she had a cold, just like he obviously had too.
And then, supplying her own fit of coughing, she’d dashed into the bathroom to remove the rest of the tissues and cry her eyes out into them. That incident should have taught her to stay away from arrogant men. It hadn’t. Roger had turned out to be arrogant, and he had been a big mistake. And Jake was . . .
She sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. The windowpanes across the small room rattled with a gust of wind, and snowflakes sprayed against the glass. She’d give anything right now to dart out of the room, through the back door and take a walk in the gathering storm, but it wasn’t a possibility. Jake would never allow it, because he was . . .
Groaning, she flopped on her back. He was her protector. He wasn’t going to sweep her off her feet. No man would. It didn’t work that way, even when she threw herself out there like a chunk of meat.
Oh, God. What had she been thinking? If Jake was the gossipy type—which he wasn’t—she’d be viewed by the entire inner circle of the Secret Service as a walking disaster about now. But he was decent. Discreet. Unlike Tom. Or Roger, or any of the assortment of men she’d bothered with in the past, assortment being the operative word. There hadn’t been many, but they’d been like similar pieces in a box of chocolate; the kind that looked good on the outside, but needed to be squished on the bottom to see if the filling looked disgusting. It had. With every last one of them.
Those men had felt the need to constantly validate their worth. And Jake? Jake didn’t have to do that. He was . . .
Amazing.
She let her eyelids slide closed, fighting against the wave of longing that swept over her. She should leave him the hell alone. But she didn’t want to. Because if she really was on the rebound—if she really did feel the need to validate her own worth—she would completely understand where he was coming from. But the fact was, she didn’t feel that way at all. What she felt for Jake, as mixed-up and euphoric as it was, didn’t have a damn thing to do with Roger. Why couldn’t Jake see that? He was smart. Intuitive.
Her phone rang and she let out an irritated sigh, reaching for it on the nightstand. She answered it a split second before she bothered to check the caller ID. Damn!
“Hey babe.” Ugh. Carolina drew her mouth down at the sound of Roger’s oily voice.
“What do you want?”
“You didn’t answer my texts,” he said. “Anything wrong?”
What? Had he just asked that?
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said sweetly.
“Oh, good.” He let out a sigh. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to take me back.”
She laughed. And laughed some more. “Really? You don’t need to wonder. I’m not taking you back, and this is the last time I’m going to tell you that. Understand?”
Roger was silent.
“I think it’s safe to assume that you do. Just in case, I’m blocking your number. Goodbye, Roger.” She hung up and with shaking fingers, typed in a special security code on her phone and then took Roger off the approved list. He was gone. Deleted from her life.
Now there was Jake.
He’d hinted that she was on the rebound, but the bottom line was that whatever existed between them came down to intuition, and she’d bet her expensive nails that Jake knew quite well that Roger wasn’t the issue. So if he wanted to pretend that Roger factored in, she wasn’t going to stop him. She was just going to let it ride, and try not to get so worked up about one kiss. Because that’s all it was, wasn’t it? But the idea of that kiss never happening again made her almost whimper aloud. Her body still tingled and her hands were clenched into fists.
This was absurd; she was acting like her teenage self. The only thing she was lacking was a secret picture of Jake in her jewelry box that she could take out every night and sigh over. It was time to put things into perspective and what she needed was a shower to relax her tense muscles and to calm her nerves. When she’d calmed down she’d be able to think clearly. Plus, it was as cold as a snowman’s ass in here. She loved sleeping in the cold, but perhaps she’d turned the thermostat down a bit too much last night.
Shivering, she slid off the bed and unzipped her suitcase searching for her bathrobe. She got undressed quickly, wrapped the robe tight and walked back into the kitchen, pausing only to take a swig from the lukewarm mug of coffee sitting on the counter. As she passed through the living room, Jake’s deep voice resonated in the air.
“Where are you going?”
“Thought I’d take a dip in the lake while it’s still warm out.” She brushed past the sofa and started up the stairs.
He chuckled. “Good one.”
His voice was pleasant, placating even. Which only made it worse. Him trying to make her feel better about the fact that he’d rejected her? Ugh. She quickened her steps and when she reached the second floor, there were tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong with you? Stop it,” she hissed at herself.
“You okay?” Jake called.
“Of course,” she answered. “I’ll be out in a bit.”
She closed the bathroom door behind her and went straight to the shower, turning it on full blast. Then she sighed, remembering the generator. She turned the water lower and as she stood under the spray, she took deep breaths. A distraction was in order, and what had she actually come to Wyoming to do, anyway? Relax. Reacquaint herself with photography. Reconnect with Regina. And that’s exactly what she planned to do. Jake wasn’t on the agenda and he was right—not pursuing anything with him was for the best.
Nodding, she stepped out of the shower and dried off. When she walked back down the stairs, she felt a lot calmer. She felt almost centered—until she saw him standing by the windows, staring out into the increasing grayness. She paused on the steps, staring at his mile-wide back. His hands were on his hips and his shoulders were tense with purpose. The sight of his close-cropped hair and strong neck made her mouth go dry. Even his ears were sexy.
She cleared her throat. “I left some hot water for you.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t turn around. “This storm looks worse than yesterday’s.”
“It does.” She walked down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen, her gaze never leaving him. “But there’s nothing we can do about that.”
He turned suddenly, his laser stare aimed at the back door. “I need to double-check the exit points.” He looked at the front door next, purposefully skipping over her. “Go ahead and get dressed. Stay in the bedroom, please, until I’ve finished my security routine.”
“That’s an affirmative,” she said quickly.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Or whatever it is you guys say.” She nodded a couple of times. “Uh, I’m going to get ready.”
“Okay. I’m going to shower after I do my check.” He glanced at her, his gaze darting over her robe and resting on her bare feet. He scratched the back of his neck and turned back toward the windows.
“I won’t. You don’t have to worry about me. I know you need to do your job.” Her face hot, she grabbed the cold coffee from the counter and went back into the bedroom. What was she trying to do?
Play nice? Of course she was. She always played nice, and in those nutty moments when she didn’t—like earlier this morning—it never ended well.
Throwing the suitcase on the bed, she sighed and began rummaging for comfortable clothes. But she realized something as she placed the folded stacks of tops and jeans on the rumpled quilt. She hadn’t actually packed sensibly. She’d brought warm clothing, sure, but she’d only packed things that she thought would attract Jake: body-hugging sweaters; scoop-necked, clingy, long-sleeved T-shirts; snug jeans. The only thing even close to being comfortable were a few pairs of yoga pants, and she wasn’t about to wear them without a loose top. Which she hadn’t brought with her. Damn it. What was she supposed to do now? Spend three weeks in her pajamas?
A grim smile formed on her face as she remembered her granny gown, and reaching under the pajamas, she found it. No matter what, she never went anywhere without that old rag. It was her security blanket. But would she dare put it on and parade around just to prove that she wasn’t trying to attract him anymore? It would be petty. Hesitating, she touched the worn, soft flannel and then reluctantly let it go. Things weren’t that drastic.
Settling on one of the long-sleeved T-shirts and a pair of jeans, she got dressed and drained the coffee. Then she made the bed, straightened the room and looked through her camera equipment. When she’d sorted it, she looked at the family photos decorating the room and flipped through a book on fly-fishing. After a half-hour, she was bored to tears and irritated with herself that she was too embarrassed to face Jake. She had to eventually.
So taking a deep breath, she grabbed her camera bag and marched into the living room. Jake stood by the sofa, shirtless, his hands motionless on the waist band of his jeans, which rested low on his hips. After a frozen second, he jerked the jeans up and zipped them.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s cold as hell upstairs and since I didn’t hear any noise coming from your bedroom, I opted to get dressed by the fire.”
Carolina tried not to stare at his carved chest. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in on you.” She hugged the camera bag to her middle and took a half-hearted step backward.
Quickly, Jake grabbed a thermal shirt from the back of the sofa and pulled it over his head. He wasn’t looking her way. So this time Carolina did watch as he slid his rock-solid arms into it. And watched some more as he then shrugged into a flannel shirt. And just as he reached for a sweatshirt, he looked up, his green eyes crinkling with amusement.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
Carolina stepped back, bumping into the kitchen counter. “I didn’t mean—”
“Isn’t that why you have your camera out?” He poked his head through the neck opening of the sweatshirt and smiled. “To practice?”
“Of course.” She plunked the bag on the counter and unzipped it. “I wouldn’t mind an impromptu photo shoot. Thanks for offering. Uh . . .” She squinted and looked anywhere but at him. “There’s good light by the recliner. Sit in that and I’ll take a couple of shots.”
Jake laughed and reached for two pairs of socks. “Excuse me, but hell no. You think I want photographic evidence of me kicked back in the president’s chair?”
“He wouldn’t mind.”
“I would.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” she muttered, pulling out the camera and walking into the living room. She looked up at the snow falling heavily outside the windows, fully aware of Jake’s eyes on her body. “Why don’t you sit by the fire, then? Just act natural.”
“That’s what I always do when you take pictures of me,” he said under his breath.
“What?” She froze. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just that I always act natural.”
She looked down at her camera and pretended to adjust the focus. Oh, God. He knew that she’d been . . . Oh, God. “I take pictures of lots of people at the White House. It’s good practice,” she said.
“What?”
Lifting her head, she gave him a tight smile. “Nothing. Go sit by the fire, please.”
“My pleasure.” With a nod, Jake dropped down onto the brick hearth and pulled on the socks. He shoved his feet into hiking boots and laced them up. “What do you want me to do . . . stare pensively into the flames or something?”
She snickered. “If that’s what comes naturally to you, but I’m not planning on doing a high school senior portrait.”
He frowned. “Okay. How about this?” Sitting up straight, he placed his fists on his thighs and turned his head slightly to the side.
Carolina burst out laughing. “Seriously?”
His frown deepened. “You said a natural pose. I sit like this a lot.”
“When?”
“When I’m being debriefed.”
She nodded and looped the camera strap over her neck. “I see. Well, I think we’re going to need a prop to loosen you up.”
He shrugged and reached for a fireplace poker. “Fine.”
“No, no. Not that. What are you—a Viking warrior?”
“No.”
He could be, though. With the firelight turning the edges of his hair blond and highlighting the planes of his face, he looked fierce. He looked sexy. Even in his layers of shirts, she could see the definition of his chest.
“Carolina?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“I’m not a Viking. Could we just take the photo, please?”
“In a second.” Taking a silent, deep breath, she turned around and scanned the room for a prop. And then a smile crept over her face. “Okay, close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because. You’ll be more natural when I tell you to open them. Are they closed?”
He sighed. “Yes.”
Tiptoeing toward the sofa, she whisked her Justin Timberlake blanket from where it was draped over an arm. She crossed to Jake and unfolded it. “Hold out your hands and grab this. No peeking.”
He frowned, but did as he was told. “What is this?”
“I’m just adding dimension and color to the shot. Now hold it up. No, not above your head. Just under your chin. Good.”
Trying to hold giggles in check, Carolina flicked on her camera and adjusted the focus. “Okay, get ready. When I say ‘go’ open your eyes and give me a big grin.” She paused, raising the camera, her shoulders shaking. “Go!”
Jake opened his eyes and grinned widely.
Carolina got off five shots before he glanced down and groaned. Throwing the blanket away as if it was covered with spiders, he stood up and pointed at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Well . . . yeah.” She laughed and backed up when he took a step forward. “That was the point.”
He shook his head, but a smile played around his mouth. “Okay, you had your fun. Delete them.”
“Delete you? I don’t know. I haven’t even had a chance to look and see if they’re any good yet.”
“They’re not.” He took another step forward.
She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Whirling around, she ran back into the bedroom. He followed, but paused in the doorway.
Still laughing, she hopped up on the bed and removed the camera strap from around her neck. Then she glanced up at him—he wasn’t smiling anymore. His gaze was as hot as the fire he’d been sitting in front of a minute ago.
She sucked in a breath. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
“You didn’t.”
“Well then, why do—”
“We talked about this earlier. You’re not making anything easier by luring me in here.” He gripped the doorframe with his large hands and continued to stare.
She stared right back, anger beginning to bubble up inside of her, but she didn’t say a word. He was being unfair and there was no reason to defend herself.
Finally he dropped his hands and took a step back. “I’ll be upstairs, catching up on some paperwork. Call me if you need me.” He walked away.
Need him? She didn’t need him. She wanted him. But just like a lot of things in life, he wasn’t available. And this time, she hadn’t even been trying to take him.
Had she?