Undaunted Page 9

  Reagan tried to hold his eyes, tried to look insouciant, but after a few seconds she dropped her gaze to look at the stone paving beneath their feet. How could she explain that there was a part of her that thought that if she made into on to Axl’s team, that if she reached that level, then they would accept her, trust her, love her as they did Mike? That she would finally, completely belong?

  Joining Axl’s team was the final validation she needed to prove to herself that she wasn’t still standing in Mike’s shadow, that she was worthy of their acceptance and respect.

  Reagan scratched the back of her head, unable to look at Axl. Intellectually she knew that she was overreacting, but the seeds had been sown in her childhood when Mike did everything right and she was the additional child nobody knew what to do with. Old habits die hard. She wanted to feel loved, accepted, respected, and like she belonged somewhere. To something.

  Axl scrubbed his hands over his face. “Why does every conversation with you end up in an argument?”

  That’s easy, Axe; it’s because I’m messed up beyond belief. Instead of saying the words out loud, she shrugged and looked toward the door. “I need to get back to work. I’ll see you out.”

  Axl held up his hand to stall her. “Wait, hold on. I actually came to tell you that your appointment with Mac has been cancelled. He had a family emergency and has to leave town for a day or two.”

  “Okay, I’ll reschedule it when he’s back.”

  “Sawyer and Kai won’t allow me to do your eval, they say that I am too harsh—”

  “You are,” Reagan agreed.

  “—so Kai and Sawyer are both going to do it. Five tomorrow afternoon. Oz will take the night shift here.”

  There was no point in arguing with him, Reagan realized. He was wearing his it’s-done face. So she nodded and started walking toward the door. “Okay. I’ll be there at five.”

  “Afterwards, we thought that we’d all go out for a drink at the Fox. You could do with a break from this place.”

  She really could, Reagan thought. And if Sawyer and Kai were going, then she’d have a buffer between her and Axl. A couple of beers sounded great, normal. God, she could do with some normal.

  “Okay,” she agreed as Axl walked with her to the door.

  Reagan yanked open the front door and gestured Axl through it. She gritted her teeth when Axl stood back and waited for her to walk through the door first. She expected a quick good-bye, Axl wasn’t the type to waste words, but he took her hand, pulled her onto the porch, and lifted his hands to cradle her face.

  Reagan slapped her hands on his chest and attempted to push him away. He didn’t move a millimeter. “Axl, people will be watching the door. Cas people!”

  “I don’t give a crap,” Axl muttered, his lips lowering to hers. He slanted his lips over hers and thoroughly, and expertly, kissed her in the sunlight. When he was done he swiped his thumb across her lower lip and smiled.

  “Dammit, Axl!” Reagan stepped back and looked around, trying to ascertain whether they had been seen. If they had, then she guaranteed that the news that they’d kissed would already be back at HQ.

  “Just making a point,” Axl said before turning away and walking down the steps to his Ducati parked on the drive. Reagan watched as he swung a long leg over the seat, rocked it off its stand, and hit the ignition. The deep roar washed over Reagan, and she felt the noise skitter over her skin and the throb in her womb.

  “Shitshitshit,” Reagan muttered, stamping her foot.

  “That generally means that the kiss was either very bad or very good,” Bryn said from the corner of the porch. He stood up and smiled.

  “The point he was trying to make was directed at me,” Bryn said as he passed her, his hand reaching out to pat her shoulder. He walked back into the house and Reagan stared at him, confused.

  “What point?” she yelled at his back.

  “That you are off-limits unless I want my face rearranged,” Bryn yelled back. In the passage, he stopped, turned around, and sent her a cheeky smile. “So is that redhead from the bakery single?”

  ***

  As she expected to, Reagan passed her evaluation with flying colors. Why the unholy trio felt the need to test her again, God only knew. Reagan winced as she climbed out of her car. She’d be bruised in the morning, she thought, touching her ribs. Her fault, she readily admitted. She’d been sparring with Sawyer and, out of the corner of her eye, she’d noticed Axl walk into the gym. She immediately lost concentration and Sawyer tossed her over his hip. She’d landed awkwardly, half on her side and half on her stomach, and she felt achy all over.

  Her pride still hurt more than the fall. She knew better than to let Axl distract her like that.

  What was wrong with her?

  Okay, something had always zinged between them before, but nothing like this. She’d never felt so aware of him. She’d never felt the air change whenever he walked into a room before. Was it because they’d shared a couple of hot kisses, because he’d had her nipple in his mouth . . . his hands on her bare skin?

  She didn’t like feeling so attracted to Axl—she didn’t want to feel attracted at all. Attraction, sex, call it what you will, made her want to step out from behind her wall and interact, and that was scary. And dangerous.

  But damn he was hot and he kissed like a dream.

  Reagan locked her car and tucked a credit card and some cash into the back pocket of her pants. Looking down, she wrinkled her nose at her choice of clothes. Black cargo pants, a black long-sleeved T-shirt, trainers. Maybe she could’ve made a quick run to the estate and changed into a nice pair of jeans, those knee-high boots she’d bought just before she left London, that soft, moss-colored jersey that she’d bought on a whim and never wore.

  Maybe she could’ve added some eyeliner, swiped more mascara across her lashes, added a bit of blush to look more like a woman than a bodyguard.

  Except that she had no skill with makeup and, like the few times she’d tried before, ended up looking like a psychopathic clown with bright red cheeks and too-heavy eyeliner. She’d lived in a male-dominated household and she’d never had anyone around to help her with the girly stuff. Thanks to the Internet, she’d muddled her way through menstruation but makeup and creating stylish outfits from her meager wardrobe was a skill she’d never learned. It was better to stick to basic black and, if she was feeling frisky, whites and grays.

  Besides, there was no need to dress up. She was meeting her bosses for an end-of-the-day drink. She wasn’t there to impress anybody.

  Especially not Axl Rhodes.

  Reagan tossed a look at her car, tempted to get back in and drive back to the Freedman estate. After walking the perimeter and checking that the house was secure, she’d treat herself to a hot bubble bath in an attempt to soak the ache out of her muscles. Then she’d pull on her softest pj’s and climb into bed with a good book. That sounded like an excellent plan . . .

  Except for the fact that she wanted to see Axl, she needed to see Axl despite knowing that two seconds into a conversation with him she’d probably want to kill him.

  Ack. He drove her nuts.

  Reagan shook off her melancholy and crossed the street, heading for the entrance to the pub. As she approached the door, Kai, Sawyer, and Axl turned the corner and her breath hitched. Three stupidly sexy men and all three had the ability to make ovaries spontaneously combust. Kai, with his messy brown hair and fabulous gold eyes, was the shortest of the three, ridiculous when he was six one. Sawyer topped him by an inch and, with his shoulder-length hair and heavy stubble, looked more like a laid-back surfer than a CEO of an internationally renowned security company.

  Axl, of the three, was the one who radiated power, danger, and his don’t-fuck-with-me attitude made her motor rev high. He was tough, wild, and powerful, and he, simply, turned her on.

  Damn, would she
ever stop feeling fascinated by him? It was so bloody inconvenient.

  “Reags,” Axl said as they reached her, his hand lifting to rub a chunk of her still-damp hair between his fingers, “you really shouldn’t have made the effort to dress up.”

  Reagan pulled her hair out of his hand and tossed him an annoyed look. “Sorry, I didn’t realize that I needed to impress you.”

  “It would be nice to see you in something other than black,” Axl murmured, pulling open the door to the pub. His big hand spanned her lower back as he guided her inside. He followed her and dropped his head to speak in her ear. “I have fantasies of seeing you in red, or in a deep chocolate brown to match your eyes or, best of all, naked.”

  Reagan sucked in a breath and stumbled when his words registered. Axl’s hand on her elbow kept her from doing a face-plant on the floor. When she regained her balance, she yanked her elbow from his grip, spun around, and sent him her death-ray glare. “Stop saying things like that!”

  “Why? I like seeing you flustered.”

  “I am not flustered. I don’t get flustered!”

  “Sure you do.”

  Grrr. Time to change the subject. She thought back, looking for one of his latest transgressions. “What did you say to Bryn about me?”

  Axl’s attempt to look innocent was laughable. “Me? Nothing!”

  “Bullshit,” Reagan muttered. “You warned him to stay away from me.”

  Axl shrugged and looked unconcerned.

  “You had no right to do that!” Reagan told him, drilling a finger into his deep gray button-down shirt, which perfectly complemented his eyes. He wore dark pants and yes, she thought on a sigh, he looked like he’d made an effort to look nice.

  Dammit, why hadn’t she?

  “Will you two take your argument to the bar?” Sawyer grumbled as he and Kai tried to push past them. “You are standing in the doorway and there’s a queue starting to form behind us.”

  Axl resolved that problem by gripping her under the elbows, lifting her up off her feet, and walking her toward the bar, her feet dangling off the floor.

  Damn, his strength made her feel squirmy all over. “Show-off,” she muttered when her trainers hit the floor again. “It’s only because you are a foot taller than me.”

  “And I have about eighty pounds on you,” Axl genially replied.

  “I can still take you,” Reagan said, knowing that she was talking absolute rubbish. She had more chance of falling pregnant by wind pollination than she had of taking Axl.

  Axl dropped his eyes to her mouth, then to her breasts. Then they ambled down to her lower hips and slowly, oh so slowly, back up again. “Babe, you can take me anytime. Say the word and I’m good to go.”

  Reagan wasn’t sure whether she was more mortified by his words or by the fact that her hand reached out to yank him out of the bar so that he could deliver on that suggestion. She threw up her hands. “You are so annoying.”

  Axl just smiled at her, one of those lethal, sex-filled smiles that made her want to rip his clothes off. “I do try.”

  Chapter Five

  WaynesBikes: After beating Axl Rhodes at pool, Pippa remains the Fox’s undisputed champ!

  DougtheDawg: I’m pretty sure I could take her.

  WaynesBikes: Not even in your dreams, dude.

  SawyersFutureWife: Sawyer has sown enough wild oats to feed Africa. Is he ever going to notice me?

  CoolGranny: No. Neither is he going to sleep with you, fall in love with you, or marry you. Deal with it.

  SawyersFutureWife: There’s no need to be ugly.

  CoolGranny: There’s no need to be so damn stupid either.

  Axl and Reagan joined their friends at the bar and Reagan greeted Flick and Pippa and, again, wished she’d made a bit more of an effort to look like someone other than GI Jane. Flick’s hair tumbled down her back in waves and her blue-green eyes were accentuated by smoky makeup. Like Pippa, her cousin and best friend, Flick wore skinny jeans tucked into knee-high boots, but in contrast to Pippa’s figure-hugging lacy top, Flick wore a striped blue-and-white top under a short denim jacket and a bright orange, voluminous scarf. Reagan was quite sure that she’d just pulled the clothes out of her closet and tossed them on, something she was unable to do. When it came to girl stuff, she was such a failure.

  Reagan greeted Flick and Pippa, said hello to Flick’s gorgeous brother Jack behind the bar, and took a big sip of her drink. Axl moved so that he was standing next to her and half turned so that she could look up into his face. “You never answered my question.”

  Axl took a sip from the glass in his hand and lifted an eyebrow.

  “I asked you when you were leaving Mercy.”

  “Feeling uncomfortable, Reags?”

  Of course she was but she’d spit spiders before she admitted that. “Because of you? Dream on.”

  Axl dipped his head to speak in her ear, his breath teasing her skin. “So you aren’t thinking about how it felt to have your nipple in my mouth, your hands on my dick?”

  Heat turned her cheeks red but she refused to drop her eyes from his face. “No. Why, are you?”

  “All the time.” The corners of Axl’s mouth curved upward. “And you are such a liar. If my phone hadn’t rung, I could’ve had you naked and screaming in two minutes flat.”

  “You’re delusional,” Reagan scoffed, refusing to admit that he was right. Reagan rested her glass against her hot cheek and sighed. And they were arguing again. They either argued or kissed, there was no middle ground. So much for being friends. Par for the course. Mike had been her last and best and, sadly, her only real friend.

  But sometimes she thought that Axl might be the only one who could understand how it felt to be the runt of the family, constantly chasing after her father and brother, trying to keep up, trying to be noticed. Looking for affection that never came.

  She’d been fed and clothed and schooled but she’d been, especially by her father, ignored. Why did she think that Axl would understand how lonely she felt, how lonely she still felt? How she longed for a place that was hers, a place she belonged.

  That place, she was convinced, was within MKR. When she was finally accepted into that final, magical circle, that was when the holes inside her would finally close, where she’d be, finally, happy.

  She’d be solidly entrenched in Caswallawn, a part of the inner circle.

  Reagan rolled her shoulders and felt the tension drain from her muscles. “God, it’s good to be somewhere else. As lovely as the estate is, I sometimes feel like the walls are closing in on me.”

  “So, move out,” Axl said, resting his foot on the railing on the bar. Reagan placed her drink on the bar and hopped up onto the empty bar stool next to Flick. Kai stood next to her, his arm around her shoulders, looking at her with love in his eyes. God, what would it feel like to be looked at like that, loved like that? Lucky, lucky Flick to be that brave.

  Reagan turned her attention back to Axl. “It’s not that easy.”

  “Sure, it is. In case you haven’t noticed, this is not just your assignment anymore. We have at least four Cas agents on the premises at all times,” Axl replied, his lips thinning.

  “But no one in the house. Bryn is good but Knox and Coe are my responsibility.”

  “That’s easy to remedy,” Axl shot back. He gestured to Kai and Sawyer. “There are three of us, four, including you. We can each take a night to stay in the house.”

  Flick bit the inside of her lip, considering his words. She trusted Kai, Sawyer, and Axl, and with them protecting Knox and Coe she could relax. After spending all day with the Callows and Bryn, it would be nice to step away from them at the end of the day. But if she took Axl up on his offer, then she’d have to spend her nights at the Cas staff quarters, and while the rooms were nice, the common areas were shared and that meant eating and socializing with her colleagues. She
’d trained her colleagues to see her as just another guy and that meant trash-talking, swearing, and a lot of ooh-rah. She’d rather deal with Coe and his inexhaustible energy than Cas agents and their testosterone-laden BS.

  They were more exhausting than spending 24-7 with a four-year-old.

  “If I did that I’d have to find a place to rent,” Reagan told him. “I can’t stay at the staff quarters.”

  Axl placed the back of his hand against her forehead. Reagan scowled at him and knocked his hand away. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Taking your temperature. That’s the first time in, like, forever that you haven’t, instinctively, argued with me.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” Reagan muttered into her drink.

  Axl leaned across her to tap Flick’s shoulder to get her attention. When he pulled his arm back, he deliberately, she was convinced, pulled his arm back across her nipples. They immediately perked up and said “hello.” Reagan closed her eyes, mortified.

  Axl cut her a glance, his eyes laughing. The bastard, he knew exactly the effect he had on her.

  “Flick, do you know of any short-term rentals in Mercy?” Axl asked, placing his hand on the stool behind Reagan’s back. She felt his thumb move against her back and she shivered, fireworks bouncing off her skin. Dammit. She leaned away from his touch and looked at Flick.

  “For whom?” Flick asked.

  “Me,” Reagan answered. “It’ll just be for a few weeks, a month maybe.”

  Flick lifted her eyebrows at Pippa. Reagan saw Pippa’s quick nod, thinking that the two of them had had an entire conversation in the blink of an eye. She’d never had a connection like that to, well, anyone.

  “Would you consider sharing my house with me?” Pippa asked her. “Flick wants to move in with Kai but, for some very weird reason, she’s worried about leaving me alone on my own. The fact that I lived on my own for nearly ten years before she came back to Mercy has escaped her,” Pippa explained. “You can move into her room, it has its own bathroom, and I’m not a bad roommate.”