The Protector: The Complete C.I.A. Romance Series Page 5

My phone buzzed. I picked it up, only to see a blank screen. Shit. Other phone. I pulled Dennis Norton’s phone out of my pocket and saw Mikhail Ivanov’s name on the screen. I took a second to steady my heartbeat and make sure my voice was calm.

  “Mr. Ivanov.”

  “Deniska,” he said, using the term of endearment I’d earned after two years as his lawyer. “I need you to come to my office.”

  “Today?”

  “Now.”

  “On my way.”

  Click.

  I stared at the phone and sighed. That was the second time in about thirty seconds I’d been hung up on. No one was wasting time on pleasantries today, not even a simple ‘see you later’.

  Throwing my personal phone in a drawer, I grabbed my Dennis’ phone and slipped it in my pocket. All my IDs, my credit cards—everything was in Dennis’s name. The name on the office door was Prof. Dennis Norton.

  My cover story was solid, and I had the Russians’ trust.

  But today, I felt off-balance. I didn’t feel like Dennis Norton, I felt like Zane. The calm, placid exterior that I’d honed in my years as a Marine was starting to fray at the edges. I opened a drawer and reached in the back to where I’d installed a false panel. I pulled out my Glock 22 and checked the magazine. Sliding it into place, I paused.

  What was I going to do, go to Ivanov’s place with a fucking gun? Why would I do that? Just because Sadie knew who I was, didn’t mean anything had changed.

  The operation was on track. We were closing in on Blanchet. Soon, we’d have him, his weapons manufacturer, and the Russians in custody. If everything went to plan, Blanchet would end up with a bullet in his brain.

  Things were on target.

  I unloaded the gun and slid it back into the false compartment. I rubbed my hands on my face and took a deep breath.

  My heartbeat was erratic and my thoughts were jumbled. I needed to get myself together, or I would wind up dead. I’d seen Ivanov kill before, and I knew that I was never completely safe around him. Walking in with a gun strapped to my side wasn’t going to help my cause.

  Shaking my head, I stood up and smoothed my shirt. All I had to do was walk to my car, go to Ivanov’s place, and see what he wanted to talk about. It was probably one of his men getting arrested for fighting in a bar, or something. I’d have to get his muscle out of prison, and that would be the end of it.

  I needed to calm the fuck down.

  I took the long way around, avoiding the lawn in front of the building. When I got in my car, I took a deep breath and made my way to the Ivanov mansion.

  I didn’t even have to knock before Grigory opened the door. He didn’t say a word, just nodded towards the office. I dipped my chin down at him and walked past.

  The hallway seemed to stretch on forever. My shiny black shoes padded on the plush Persian rug, and stately paintings of old Russian men and women stared at me as I walked past. It felt like I was going to my execution.

  When I knocked on the door, Ivanov beckoned me inside.

  He stood up when I entered, spreading his arms wide.

  “Deniska, come, sit.” He gestured to the chair. “Thank you for coming. Congratulations again on your position at the University.”

  “Thank you, Mikhail. Is everything alright?”

  “The Blanchet girl.” His face was relaxed, but I knew he was watching me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

  “What about her?”

  “She’s marrying Thomas Balmoral. You know him?”

  I nodded. “He owns Balmoral enterprises.”

  “He could be useful. There’s a fundraiser next Saturday for the Children’s Hospital. Your name is on the list, as well as Blanchet, his daughter, and Thomas Balmoral. I want you to make contact with him.”

  I always wondered how Ivanov got his hands on that kind of information. He had eyes and ears everywhere, and it only reinforced the fact that I had to be careful. I nodded.

  “No problem.”

  “Senator Blanchet is getting nervous. I want him to understand what’s at stake. I’m not a good man when I’m angry, Mister Norton.”

  His eyes were hard, and I wondered if he was threatening me, or the Senator. He waved his hand, and I was dismissed. My heart thumped and I left his office. I nodded to Grigory at the front door and made my way back to my car. Knowing they could be watching, I drove off calmly, but as soon as I was a few minutes away, I pulled in to the side of the road and let out a sigh. I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

  The Russians wanted me to make contact with Thomas Balmoral, as did the CIA. I had to pretend to be Dennis Norton in front of Sadie, her father, and her fiancé even though she knew who I really was.

  Nathan Blanchet might recognize me at any moment, which would blow this whole operation.

  But the worst thing of it all was that the thought of talking to Thomas Balmoral, knowing that he’d had his hands on Sadie. My life, my career, the danger that I was in—It paled in comparison to the fire in my core when I thought of her with another man.

  I didn’t want to bring him in or make contact with him on behalf of Ivanov. I wanted to wring his Ivy-league-educated neck. I wanted to pulverize him so completely that he would never even look at Sadie again.

  But going against Ivanov’s wishes when we were this close to the end goal would be disastrous for the operation, and for my life.

  I had to find a way to get Sadie to forget about Zane Wolfe.

  When I walked into the classroom on Monday morning, it was already nearly full. My eyebrows arched—I hadn’t thought import-export law would be such a popular class. My eyes scanned the seats, looking for one particular red-haired vixen.

  She wasn’t there.

  Disappointment and relief mixed in the pit of my stomach. I took a deep breath and walked into class. The chatter of students faded, and I stood in front of them.

  “My name is Dennis Norton,” I proclaimed. Just then, the classroom door opened and Sadie walked in. She was wearing a little pencil skirt that hugged her curves to perfection. Her wild red hair was tamed into a neat bun. Her eyes widened, shining bright as she swept her eyes over me.

  Those perfectly kissable lips fell open, and my cock throbbed.

  “Thank you for joining us, Miss…?”

  “Blanchet. Are you… are you filling in for Professor Norton?”

  A few people tittered in the classroom. I glanced towards the students to quiet them. Sadie frowned at me, and I motioned to a free seat at the front of the class. She sat down, and I forced myself not to stare at her tantalizing legs.

  This was going to be harder than I thought.

  “As I was saying, my name is Dennis Norton. I assigned three readings before class today. Can someone explain to me the case study regarding NAFTA, and what conclusions can be drawn from it?”

  Hands flew up to answer the question. Sadie was still staring at me, slack-jawed. I kept my eyes off her, for my own sake, and somehow made it through class.

  When class was over, I gathered my papers and notes and made for the door. I felt a hand on my arm and my heart thumped.

  She was there, in all her innocent, beautiful glory, staring up at me with those emerald-green orbs.

  “Dennis Norton?” She asked under her breath. “What the fuck?”

  I arched an eyebrow. Little Miss Proper had a mouth on her.

  “Can I help you, Miss Blanchet?”

  She frowned. Her lips looked so full and soft. My whole body thrummed. She pulled her hand away from me and I took a deep breath.

  “Follow me.”

  Without another word, I strode out of the classroom and towards my office. I didn’t look back to see if she was following, because I could sense her presence. I could smell her sweet perfume and I could feel her eyes on my back.

  I liked it more than I wanted to admit.

  6

  Sadie

  Who the heck was Dennis Nort
on? I followed Zane through the long, beige hallways in silence. We took an elevator, turned a few times, and finally stopped in front of an office.

  Professor Dennis Norton, it said on the door.

  I stared at Zane, frowning. Maybe he changed his name.

  He opened the door in silence, stepping aside for me and then following me through. I heard the door click closed, and Zane went around to sit behind his desk. He tapped on the computer. I frowned when loud music started playing.

  My heart was thumping, and I didn’t know if it was the shock of the false name or the fact that I was alone with him. His smell was everywhere. Every nerve ending on my body was extra sensitive, as if my whole body wanted to absorb every possible sensation from being so close to him. So alone with him.

  He folded his hands on his desk, and I imagined what his hands would feel like wrapped around my waist. I blushed and cleared my throat.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m teaching Trade Law this semester.”

  “Right, I understand that. What I mean is, who the fuck is Dennis Norton?”

  His eyebrow arched at my swear word and I blushed. I didn’t usually speak like that, but something about Zane made me feel dangerous. It was like I was balancing on a ledge, ready to fall head-first into oblivion whenever he was around.

  “I’m Dennis Norton.”

  “You’re Zane Wolfe.”

  “Zane Wolfe died fifteen years ago.”

  Fifteen years ago. That’s when Zane and his parents left out of the blue, when I thought I’d never see him again. When my little preteen heart was crushed into a million little pieces.

  “Zane…”

  He took a deep breath. His jaw ticked. The air between us was thick, and I didn’t know if it was my arousal or something more dangerous. His eyes hardened, sending a chill down my spine. This wasn’t the same man who had saved me from the mosh pit at the concert. The man in front of me looked almost cruel. My heart hurt, and I felt foolish.

  I’d spent all weekend imagining him with me—coming up with all kinds of childish fantasies about him and me. And just like when I was a kid, I’d been wrong about him.

  There was no ‘him and me’.

  I was engaged. He was my professor. He was using a false name. There were so many levels of ‘messed up’ that thinking about him in any way other than as a professor was unacceptable.

  I took a deep breath. I needed answers.

  “Why are you calling yourself Dennis Norton?”

  His jaw twitched again, and he took a deep breath. His eyes drifted down my neck to my chest, and then behind me to the door. A current of heat snaked through my body, circling at the pit of my stomach. How did he do that? How did he ignite desire inside me with nothing more than a look? He made it feel like the volume on the world was turned way up, like all the colors were brighter and smells were stronger. When he was around, I felt both safer and more defenseless. It made no sense, and I loved every second of it.

  Finally, with a breath, he looked me in the eye again.

  “I’m an analyst with the CIA. I—” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. My eyes widened and my heart thumped.

  The CIA? As in the Central Intelligence Agency? Was this a joke?

  “What are you talking about? I’m not an idiot, Zane—”

  Zane lowered his voice. “Sadie, listen to me.”

  Gosh, I loved it when he said my name. He got up from behind the desk and came around to sit on the chair next to mine. He was so close I could feel the heat from his huge body. His shoulders strained against the white button-down shirt he wore, and I longed to run my fingers over them.

  I’d never seen a body like his. It just exuded man.

  He wasn’t like any other professor I’d ever had.

  When he placed his hand on my leg, my mouth went dry. My heart thumped and my mind ran to a million different places—all of which involved Zane and me in very inappropriate positions. I wanted his hands on me, higher up my leg, on my waist, on my breasts. I wanted his kiss. I wanted his smell and his heat and his touch. I wanted every part of him.

  “Sadie, I am Dennis Norton. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, my mind still spinning. “Yes.” No. I understood nothing about this. Not the involvement of the CIA, not his sudden appearance in my life, and I definitely didn’t understand what the heck was going on in my body.

  His hand left my thigh and touched my chin. He tilted my face towards his. “This is life and death. Not just for me, but for you, your father—”

  “What does my father have to do with this?”

  “Sadie…”

  “Zane, what is going on?” Fear was starting to grip my stomach. Zane’s hand drifted to my neck, and his thumb stroked my jaw. I closed my eyes. I loved his touch. I felt so safe beside him, even when he was telling me that I was in danger. I didn’t care. All I wanted was him.

  “The Zane you knew is dead, Sadie,” he whispered. His dark eyes fell on mine. He swallowed and licked his lip. I automatically did the same and then sucked my lower lip between my teeth.

  I was afraid, aroused, confused. Zane—Dennis—kept stroking my jaw with his thumb. His fingers curled around my neck and I leaned towards him. My hands drifted up his chest, his broad, hard muscles tensing under my touch. He felt like warm marble. When my fingers reached his neck, he sighed.

  There were a million questions swirling around my mind, but one by one, they fell silent. I felt the pulse in his neck under my hand, thick and powerful. Just like the rest of him.

  He tilted my chin up towards his face. We were moving slowly, tentatively, but there was no stopping us. Something about him was so incredibly powerful that it was irresistible. Maybe it was the hardness in his eyes, or the fact that his body looked like it had been carved from stone and covered in clothes that didn’t quite fit over his brawn.

  My breath was shallow, and I curled my fingers around the nape of his neck. His eyes met mine, and then he crushed my lips against his. Zane’s hand tightened around my neck as his lips teased mine open. His tongue swiped across my lower lip, diving inside my mouth and drawing a moan from me. He swallowed my moan, my taste, my kiss, pulling me off my chair and onto his lap.

  I sat on his lap, running my fingers through his hair and curling them into fists. I kissed him harder than I’d ever kissed anyone before, my body acting on its instinct. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my chest to his.

  When I felt his erection throbbing against my leg, I gasped.

  He pulled his kiss away and rested his forehead against mine. I brought my fingers to my swollen lips, panting. I couldn’t get enough breath into my lungs. My heart was thumping.

  I wanted more.

  I wanted all of him.

  All. Of. Him.

  My body was screaming for him in a way that I’d never experienced. I wanted him. Something that had scared me for so long—being with a man—now it seemed completely irresistible.

  Zane stared into my eyes, raked his gaze over my lips, and dropped his hand from my face. He let out a sigh, and I knew the moment was over.

  I couldn’t have him. I shouldn’t have him. This was insane. He was claiming to be in the CIA. He was my professor, using a false name. I was engaged!

  Sliding off his lap, I straightened my clothes and cleared my throat.

  “Sadie…” He dragged his eyes back up to mine.

  “No it’s okay Za—Professor Norton. We shouldn’t have done that, it was inappropriate. If you want me to change classes, I will.”

  “No.” It was more of a noise than a word. His whole body vibrated as he said it, his eyes flashing with primal desire.

  My eyes widened at his growl. His face darkened as he watched me. I swallowed, drinking in every second of his gaze. I loved the way he looked at me. I loved how he made me feel like I belonged to him. He made me feel like I was his, fully and completely.

  Zane’s eyes dropped to my lips and then he closed hi
s eyelids. When he opened them again, they were clearer.

  “You’re engaged.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “I’m your professor.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Za—Professor Norton. I know these things.”

  “I wasn’t calling you an idiot.”

  “Then what were you doing?”

  “Convincing myself not to fuck you right here on top of my desk.”

  I froze, a gasp caught in my throat.

  Panties. Ruined.

  The thought of having sex had always made me nervous, but for the first time, I didn’t feel nervous. I wanted it. I wanted it with him.

  His chest rose and fell with every breath. He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

  “I think you should go.”

  I nodded, gathering my bag. Zane went back around his desk and turned off the music. Did he think someone was listening in on us? Was he telling the truth about the CIA stuff?

  He glanced at me and nodded. “Good work in class today, Miss Blanchet. If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to come to my office hours.”

  I swallowed and nodded.

  “Thank you, Professor.”

  His eyes dropped and he glanced at my lips, then back at his computer screen. I took a deep, shuddering breath and walked out of his office.

  My head was still reeling by the time I got home. I dropped my bag by the front door, sighing. I had a thousand readings to do for class the next day and I already had an assignment due at the end of the week, but I didn’t care.

  All I could think about was the kiss.

  I’d never been kissed like that before.

  I knew it was wrong. So, so wrong. I shouldn’t be looking at another man, let alone kissing one. And yet, I couldn’t quite bring myself to regret it. It felt like he’d lit a fire in my veins, and the embers were still hot as they coursed through my body.

  I shuffled down the hallway and heard voices in my father’s study.

  I held my breath, tip-toeing on the old floorboards towards his door.

  “…once the vote goes through, Ivanov will be able to start trading freely. Everything will be above-board. You and I will be rich men.”