The Boss Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 3) by Victoria Paige (summer beach reads .TXT) 📕

sighed. Something in her voice made Antonio take a hard look at her. She didn’t look comfortable.

“I’m sorry for the family drama,” Antonio said.

“How the hell did this turn back on me?” Martinez muttered.

Luis came forward, apparently slipping in unnoticed when the drama all started. He clapped a hand on the BOPE captain’s shoulder. “Or Renata was just trying to buy herself time.”

“You could be right,” Antonio sighed, but narrowed his eyes at the doctor who seemed to be edging away slowly from their huddle.

“What’s the verdict about the virus?” the older man asked.

“The virus in our database is a fake,” Antonio told him.

“What’s next?”

It was Martinez who answered. “Good, old-fashioned detective work.”

He meant contact tracing.

“Stay for dinner, amigo,” Luis told Martinez.

“I’d rather shoot myself in the head.” Martinez looked at Antonio. “I’ll keep in touch.”

When his friend left, Antonio walked over to Dr. Bennett and put his hand on her back to usher her to the dining room, but she shied away.

“What’s wrong?” Antonio inquired mildly.

Her eyes were downcast. “I’m feeling suddenly exhausted.” Then she raised them, not quite looking at anyone, but more like staring at the empty space behind Antonio. “If you all don’t mind, I’ll head to my room.” Her gaze wavered back to his. “Please give Ida my apologies about dinner.”

Without waiting for anyone’s reply, as if she hadn’t just spoken like a robot, she hurried away from them.

“Did you push her too hard?” Luis asked.

Frowning, he replied, “I don’t think so.” Did he? Had he expected too much from Charly too soon? He went after the doctor and found her at the bottom of the steps.

She glanced at him. “I forgot Oscar moved my room. Can you ask him where it is?

“It’s right beside mine,” Antonio said. “I’ll show you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” she cut in. “I mean—just point me to it.”

Antonio arched a brow. “I don’t think I can just point you to it … unless you don’t mind making a wrong turn into my room.”

Her face went bright red.

Antonio couldn’t help teasing her. He wanted to jolt her up a bit and didn’t like her sudden withdrawal—this distance.

He held out his hand. “Come on, doctor.”

She ignored his hand and started up the steps. Antonio followed behind her leisurely, admiring the fit of the jumpsuit she’d worn coming out of the lab shower. She was naked beneath there. He finally admitted the stirring in his groin meant he was more interested in the doctor for more than merely her brain. When she came out of the shower tube, all pink and flushed, he wanted to back her into that tight space and strip her naked, yank her wet hair down and expose her pulse to his mouth so he could touch the fluttering beneath her skin with his tongue. Her breasts appeared small, but he wondered if her nipples were rosy and pouty and waiting to be sucked.

The stirring against his sweatpants was becoming a full-blown erection and the soft material was very unforgiving.

At the top of the steps, she paused and looked at him. “Seriously, you don’t have to accompany me. Oscar would have—”

“Enough.” Antonio tried to keep his tone level as a mild irritation crept in. Here he was all horny as fuck, and she was pushing him away. If her intent was for him to leave her alone, then she was going about it the wrong way. Antonio loved the chase. He loved acquiring things—that was probably why he was successful in business. It was also probably why he was finding her whole package of brains, smartass mouth, and evasion of him an irresistible combination. He grabbed her right hand and uncurled her fist. “Do I make you uncomfortable, Dr. Bennett?”

“I’m just tired.”

He leaned in and whispered, “Liar.” Her lips parted, blue eyes widening, and he would have kissed that alluring mouth right then and there if he didn’t feel the jagged skin beneath his thumb. He held on to her hand as she tried to pry it away and held it to the light of the chandelier that hung in the great hall. Scars spread in jagged directions starting from her wrist, across her palms and up the sides of a few fingers. “What happened here?”

Charly wrenched her hand away, and, this time, he let go. She retreated into the shadows, shaking her head. “It’s none of your business. Can you just please point me to my room?”

“Was that from the car accident?” It was on the tip of his tongue to say where her mother died, but Antonio was sensing a flight response from her. He took a slow step forward, before pivoting to the right and strode away. “Follow me.”

“Antonio …” The way she said his name was full of pain and yet there was resignation. “It’s unfair you know so much about me, and yet I know so little about you.”

He slowed his strides, waiting for her to catch up, but left enough distance between them as they walked side by side to the wing of the villa where their bedrooms were located. “You can ask me anything.”

“Huh,” Charly snorted. “But you don’t promise to give me answers.”

Ah … spirit. This is good, Antonio thought. “I may …”

“There’s nothing in my past that’s interesting,” she said.

“Let me be the judge of that. Sometimes it helps to talk.”

“You don’t seem to be the talkative type. I’m sure I’ll end up doing all the talking.”

They reached her room, but in the spur of the moment, Antonio did something that would require he question his sanity after. He moved them past her bedroom directly into his.

Antonio opened the door. Charly walked inside and paused at the threshold. “This is your room.”

“We’ll talk.”

“My issue is not going to interfere with my job. I’m just tired, that’s all,” she spoke rapidly.

She thought this was about her job, and she just admitted she had an issue that might affect her work.

He stepped in after, switched on most of the lights so