UP IN FLAMES

“But these are for you.” He headed toward her, placing them on the desk. “Careful. They’re heavy.”

Her eyes scanned the roses and tiny white flowers as she stood there in a stupor. She didn’t see a card, but she hadn’t realized that in time. The deliveryman was already gone.

Sitting down slowly, she stared at the magnificent, beautiful display of roses. This…this had to cost a pretty penny and she couldn’t even fathom who’d sent them to her. Surely it could not be…

She was still staring at the roses when she heard Anita’s gasp from her open office door. “Holy crap, that’s a lot of roses,” she said, hurrying closer to the desk to inspect them.

“How are you always around when things like this happen?” Vanessa grumbled.

Anita ignored her comment. She was still inspecting the flowers. Her wide eyes met Vanessa’s. “Does this have anything to do with who’s on his way up the elevator?”

Vanessa stiffened, half afraid. “Who’s coming up the elevator?”

“One incredibly sexy Detective Alaric Harper.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Her eyes darted back to the roses. It was him-he’d sent the roses. Oh my God, she didn’t know what to think, but her Godforsaken stupid heart started flipping in her chest even as sweat broke out across her palms and forehead. An urge to get up and race toward the stairwell was hard to overcome. The only reason she didn’t was because that reaction would be hard to explain to Anita.

“I thought you two were just friends,” demanded Anita, and then in a much lower voice, “hussy.”

Vanessa shot Anita a look a second before a broad, tall form filled her doorway. Her poor heart did a cartwheel as she gripped the edge of her desk. If her heart continued this way, she was going to have a heart attack.

Alaric looked amazing. No big surprise there. His dark hair was neatly cut. He was wearing an old AC/DC band shirt and the dark, worn material stretched against his shoulders and chest. There was a bulge under his shirt, along the lip. He was packing.

Packing? Listen to her. Since when did she turn gangsta? Her brain was fried, and the way the jeans he wore appeared to be cut to fit his body alone hadn’t helped.

“What are you doing here?” She immediately winced at how rude it came across and not just to her. And it was a stupid question. Though he couldn’t hang out in the office, he’d escorted her to work and she knew he’d been nearby all morning.

Anita’s gaze sharpened as she silently exited the room. On the other hand, Alaric look unfazed.

“I thought you’d like to do lunch today,” he said, strolling up to her desk and the enormous set of roses.

It took her several seconds to respond. “Well, I haven’t eaten yet, but you don’t have to come-”

“I’m your bodyguard… Protector…. Or whatever the hell you want to call it,” he said, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t be overheard. “Therefore, if you are going out in public, I need to be with you.”

Her thoughts swam. After what had happened between them and now the roses, she seemed to have lost some brain cells. “I was just going to order in.”

“No need now.”

She curled her hands around the edge of her desk. “You don’t have to come here…..”

He’d been staring at the roses, but his sharp gaze swung back to her. “You don’t want me here?”

She shook her head, “No…. that’s not what I meant. I just don’t want you to stress yourself anymore than you already have,”

Alaric shrugged, as if he didn’t care. He glanced at the roses again, frowning slightly. “Nice flowers.”

“They are.” She flushed, realizing she hadn’t thanked him for them, and that made her feel like something that rhymed with über-witch. “You didn’t, um, have to send them, but thank you.”

Alaric’s dark gaze moved to hers.

She swallowed. “They’re very beautiful, but I’m not sure why you’d send them. I mean, what happened between us? Well, you’re just doing your job, and that’s all it is.”

As Vanessa continued to ramble on, Alaric’s brows inched up his forehead. She squirmed in her seat, hating how idiotic she sounded. “Anyway, thank you, but you shouldn’t have.”

A moment passed and then Alaric leaned over, putting his hands on her desk. She couldn’t help but stare at those long fingers and remember how they’d felt inside her. Heat burned low in her belly. Oh God, that was so not the direction her thoughts needed to go.

“First off,” he began, his voice still calmly level. “What happened between us Saturday night didn’t have anything to do with my job. And guess what, it won’t be the last time, either.”

Her eyes narrowed as she opened her mouth. How dare he think he could just say that and it be true?

“And you damn well know it wasn’t,” he continued before she could say anything. “Secondly, do those flowers have a name on them?”

At the change of subject to somewhat safer topics, she glanced at the roses. “Well, no, but-”

“It would’ve had a note if they were from me.” Lifting one hand, he cupped his fingers under her chin. Her skin tingled at his touch, but his next words were like setting a fire to her blood. “Probably something along the lines of how I couldn’t wait to taste you again and I’m not talking about your mouth.”

Her breath left her in a rush. No man ever spoke to her like that. And no person had ever been able to render her speechless.

“So the flowers weren’t from me.” He dropped his hand, but his mouth replaced his fingers a second later. “But I’m dying to know who sent them.”

It happened so fast she didn’t have a chance to pull away. At least that was what she was telling herself. His lips brushed her chin, as soft as one of the rose petals inches from them, and then his mouth was on hers, kissing her, working at the seam of her mouth until her lips parted, allowing him entry. He tasted of rich coffee and something else sinful and all him. A moan caught in her throat as he flicked the roof of her mouth.

“Fuck,” he ground out, breaking the kiss and tearing himself away.