The Mogul and the Muscle (Bluewater Billionaires)

by Claire Kingsley

“If you want breakfast, you might want to put some clothes on. If you keep walking around like that, there’s no telling what I’ll do.”

She came into the kitchen, and even covered up in my old Marine Corps t-shirt and loose-fitting boxer briefs, she was the sexiest woman I’d ever seen.

She sighed, cradling the mug in her hands. “But I like pretending none of it exists.”

you referring to the fish in your bed, or the sex last night?

“I actually wasn’t sure if you liked me. That way, at least.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Are you kidding?”

didn’t think you disliked me. But last week after the hit and run you kissed my forehead, and I had myself convinced it was a pity kiss and you ...

“Was that what had you so upset at...

“Most of the time you have an excellent game face, but yes, I could tell something was wrong.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked me.”

She laughed. “What are we, thirteen? I guess I should have dropped a do you like me, check yes or

note on your desk. Where are ...

I’m going to figure out how someone got in. I need to talk to everyone who has a code.”

whoever it was didn’t break in. That means they were either let in, or they had the code to unlock your door and disable the alarm.”

“I still think the most likely suspects are Noelle and Aldrich.”

“The note referred to me as the boss,”

It turns out Aldrich bought a large share of Reese Howard Aviation not long ago. And guess who was just elected to their board of directors?”

she asked, her eyes widening. “Aldrich got himself elected to the board of directors of our biggest competitor?”

knew he was right. I was his client, and I should have told him. But I was at the tail end of a day that had included scary people following me, a trashed office, a high-tech spy gadget, and the continuation of a PR fiasco. And he’d just poked at one of my deepest private insecurities.

“You didn’t even want this job. You’re supposed to be retired, not shadowing a bitchy CEO in and out of meetings all day.” “Cameron—”

“And because some psycho broke in to my house, suddenly we’re sleeping together. I’m in the middle of a PR nightmare, my office is trashed, and someone’s trying to either get rid of me or hurt me, or both.

“Fine. Do your job. I’ll sit here on house arrest so the big bad wolf doesn’t eat me. And I’m not hiding anything from you, so you can drop the interrogation.”

I stayed cool and collected. The consummate professional. If he wanted to be a brick wall bodyguard, I’d be the unflappable CEO.

For the first time in five years, I was quitting a job. I didn’t need this shit. She was the one who’d kept information from me. And she had the audacity to get defensive? I was trying to keep her safe—keep someone from screwing up her life, or worse. So much worse.

God, I was being an idiot. Of course I wasn’t going to leave her. I couldn’t. And it wasn’t about the job. It wasn’t because I knew she was in danger. There were other people who could protect her.

But there wasn’t anyone else who was going to love her.

Something about Bobby. She’d said he always texted or showed up right after she was dealing with one of the incidents. Like the universe was adding insult to injury.

Maybe Bobby didn’t have an endless supply of money like Cameron thought.

But even Bobby Spencer had to be smart enough to know Cameron had security cameras. And if he wore something recognizable, he’d get caught.

There it was. The embossed Fendi logo on the toe of his black leather sneakers. The same sneakers he’d been wearing when he’d come into the office after the break-in. The ones that had seemed subdued compared to the rest of his clothes.

didn’t just need him. I loved him. Oh my god, I loved that big, gigantic, mysterious, infuriating, gentle, amazing man. I loved him so much, I almost couldn’t breathe.

I tried to scream through the fabric covering my head, but a hand clamped over my mouth and nose. I couldn’t breathe. Someone had my upper body and another set of arms quickly wrapped around my legs, carrying me like a rolled-up carpet. I thrashed and tried to kick, but they had me immobilized.

“Her shoes? She has like a hundred pairs. You bugged them all?”

Just a few.” I pocketed my phone and got back on my bike. “She picks her shoes based on her mood. I figured if I ever needed this, it’d be because she was either trying to ditch me or she was pissed at me.