“I know many things.”
She arched an eyebrow at him skeptically.
“I had Croft ask Finn.”
“Is she all right?”
“Other than being in much the same shape as you, she’s fine.”
“Ganging up on us?” She looked over the rim of the mug as she took a more thorough drink.
“Absolutely. Croft and I are well aware the two of you are, if not actively conspiring at the moment to get to the bottom of this story, soon will be.”
“That’s our job… to get the story.”
“Maybe in the past, but not now. Now, your primary job is to follow my orders, and the first rule is you don’t put yourself in harm’s way.”
She snorted and took another sip. “In case you missed the memo… I’m not inclined to follow anyone’s orders other than my own.”
“I got the memo.” He grinned. “I’m just vetoing it. Quit trying to pick a fight with me, Zara.”
“I’m not. Just when things don’t turn out the way you think they should, I don’t want to be accused of leading you on.”
“You’ve been very clear about your reluctance to do as you’re told. I think I’ve been just as clear as to the consequences of not minding me.”
“I’m not looking for some overendowed and muscled guard dog who thinks he has to keep me safe and in return, gets to fuck me whenever he wants.”
“You think I’m overendowed? I thought it was a perfect fit,” he teased.
Zara sent him a scathing look.
He shook his head. “Drink your coffee, Zara. Tomorrow, I’ll try having it ready on the nightstand and fuck you first thing. We’ll see if that doesn’t improve your mood.”
“You egotistical, condescending bastard.”
“Sweetheart don’t get yourself all worked up. I made breakfast. Why don’t you eat your omelet before it gets cold,” he said, handing her a plate with the most perfect omelet she’d ever seen. She wanted to throw it at him like she had the night before, but the aroma was enticing, and she was hungry.
Zara snatched the plate from him and took a bite—heaven enfolded in light and fluffy eggs. The perfectly finished omelet was filled with Gruyere cheese, lots of crispy, crumbled bacon, caramelized onions, and sundried tomatoes. He had accompanied it with two small potato latkes and a citrus fruit salad.
“This is very good,” she said, digging in. “I’m hungry.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He grinned. “You didn’t have dinner yesterday, and I rode you pretty hard during the night.”
“I am not some wild mustang to be mounted and ridden whenever you damn well please.”
The sheet had slipped from under her arms and was pooled in her lap, leaving her breasts exposed. Noah hefted one in his hand, flicking his thumb back and forth across her rapidly stiffening nipple.
“Think not?” He clearly enjoyed her arousal in response to his fondling. “I’ll bet if I reached between your legs, I’d find your clit just as hard and a wealth of your honey gathering in your pussy.”
Zara hissed at him—at his presumptiveness, his handling of her feminine parts as if they belonged to him, and the fact that his assessment was entirely correct.
“You are insufferable,” she said between bites.
“Now,” he said, tweaking her nipple and causing her to gasp, “be a good girl and finish your breakfast. We don’t have much time before we have to get on the horn with the team. Why don’t you grab a shower?”
“Why? Do you find the stench of my having had sex with you offensive?”
He arched his eyebrow again, a somewhat endearing trait that signaled when she was starting to get under his skin.
“Maybe,” he said, “in addition to getting laid in the morning, you need to get your ass spanked first. For your information, I find the scent of you mingled with my own to be the finest perfume I’ve ever inhaled. Settle down and behave yourself, or I’ll turn your ass an even deeper shade of red before I put you naked on your knees at my feet while we talk to the team,” he growled.
“And what would your employer think of the idea you spanked and fucked me more than once since you took me into your custody against my will?” she challenged.
“You mean since I saved your life? He’d probably admonish me for not getting you taken in hand the first time.”
Noah laughed at the look of shock on her face.
“This may or may not come as a newsflash to you,” he continued, “but the men I work with have absolutely no problem with a man tattooing his woman’s ass with his displeasure when she’s earned herself a spanking. Go ahead and complain. Mac will probably just advise me to use my belt if there’s a next time.”
“I can’t believe he would allow you to treat a client or a potential witness this way.”
“He doesn’t, and I don’t, but I will ensure my woman is cared for and safe… whether she likes it or not.”
Zara finished her breakfast and scooted across the mattress to get out on the other side of the bed, grimacing as she did so. Noah wisely said nothing. Zara walked around him to the bath and started to close the door.
“Leave it open, Zara. I want to be able to keep my eye on you.”
“Pervert!”
He laughed. “Nevertheless, the door stays open, or I come in there to supervise.”
“Fine. It isn’t anything you haven’t already seen,” she snapped.
“Doesn’t matter how many times I see it, it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever beheld.”
Zara rolled her eyes, then turned on the shower. She made short work of her shower, but not because she didn’t enjoy it or even minded Noah watching. Her memories of the day before when she’d shared it with him were still too vivid in her mind—his strong hands using the sudsy sea sponge to get her clean, the lingering touches, the feel of his body pressed to hers under the hot water. She really needed to get a handle on her own traitorous thoughts.
Zara rejoined him, wrapped only in a towel.
“I don’t suppose you have clean clothes?” she asked.
“I think you look fine.” He laughed. As the storm clouds gathered in her eyes, he crossed over from the bed, took hold of her shoulders, and pulled her close to kiss her briefly but thoroughly. One thing about Noah, he was very deliberate and completely in control where she was concerned. For the moment, Zara would let him believe that.
“We do, however, keep a variety of sweats in the dresser, and I put away the things I had in my go-bag. There are a couple of my sweaters you might like.”
“Sweats will be just fine.”
“Suit yourself. The sweaters are softer, I thought you might prefer them. If this looks to become long term, we’ll need to get additional supplies, including clothing.”
Zara found a pair of sweats that looked like they’d fit. They were a bit too big in the waist, so she rolled them down, making them ride low on her hips. She started to put on the sweatshirt but realized it wouldn’t be all that comfortable. It would either be a bit too tight in the bust or huge everywhere else. She knew she could select another but saw Noah’s black sweater lying on the chair. It was incredibly soft to the touch. She pulled it over her head and went to join him. She didn’t like the way his eyes lit up when he saw she was wearing his sweater.