For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection) by Amber A Bardan

Author:Amber A Bardan [Bardan, Amber A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

They wandered through the mall and into other stores. Connor walked with his arm wrapped around her, keeping her close to him, his fingertips brushing against the skin on her shoulder. Her body was on edge, electrified and every touch built the wicked anticipation curling through her.

Every time she moved she felt him beside her, touching, watching. He was more tuned into her than any human ever had been. Her body strained toward him. Touch me, take me. He acted the part of boyfriend while she had them both starring in an erotic, lust-filled fantasy.

The fantasy washed over her with every affectionate gesture, tempting her, fooling her, frightening the living shit out of her. Because this—this thing between them—had to be an illusion. They were playacting. In reality they’d never work. Charlize tried on more dresses and purchased things she didn’t really need. Driven by nervous energy, she set about abusing her credit card. They entered another store and she tried on a flowing violet dress she never would have chosen if she hadn’t seen Connor’s eyes light on it. She stepped out of the changing room and stood in front of the mirror.

The ruched bust cradled her sweetly before tightening around her waist, highlighting the hourglass curves of her torso then drifting into a rippling violet skirt. She frowned at her reflection. The rich purple shade set off her dark hair and pale skin, even made her eyes glow more golden. Freaking no.

“That’s the one.”

She turned and faced Connor. He’d hardly said a word until then. His gaze washed over her. Not like before, not a hungry sweep, but a lingering, soft caress.

“You look beautiful,” he said, voice tight.

Warmth spread through her chest. This wasn’t the effect she’d been going for. The expression on his face made her weak. Made her feel sixteen again, as if she was standing in front of a boy who could steal the muscles right out of her thighs.

“Thank you,” she whispered then licked her lips. “It’s not practical though.”

His brow creased. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to look like someone’s date—I want to look like someone’s boss.” She turned away from him and gazed back at the mirror, smoothing the skirt. What a shame, it’s pretty damn gorgeous.

“A real boss would wear whatever the fuck she wanted and not give a crap about everyone else’s opinion.”

His words jutted along her stretched nerves, proving that despite what he knew about her body, he knew nothing about her life. She spun around. “Most bosses aren’t wearing dresses, they’re wearing three-piece suits.” She stormed into the dressing room before he had a chance to hit her with one of his condescending caveman expressions.

Panting, she stripped off the dress then jerked her jeans back up over her legs. With just a few words, he’d shattered the illusion and they were slammed back to reality where he was pushy, domineering and the completely wrong man for her. Her hands slowed at the buttons at her waist and she looked at the closed stall door.

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