Must Love Hellhounds

eastern windows. When she’d first met him, she would have sworn the sun rose every morning purely out of hope it might shine on his face. There was beautiful, and then there was Colin Ames-Beaumont. He . . . glowed. Not physically, she knew, but psychically. The first weeks of her employment had been filled with humiliating leaps of her heart every time he’d entered the room she was in. Then she’d adjusted, the psychic effect had worn off, and she’d finally been able to look at him without catching her breath.
    His deep frown could still affect her heart rate, though. She waited, holding her breath.
    “I am disturbed, Winters.” His gaze, when it met hers, was slightly accusing. “I believe my nephew plans to steal you away from me.”
    Her fingers clutched the sheet more tightly. God, she wished whoever had put her to bed had left her uniform on. “I have no intention of giving up my position here, sir.”
    He tilted his head, and the sun hit the wild disarray of his hair, lighting the burnished gold. Mirrors were of no use to him, and Maggie knew he didn’t possess a single comb. “I can hear them plotting downstairs. My own family. She tells him where the dragon blood is, and he says he will persuade me to allow you to accompany him while he retrieves it.”
    Maggie’s expression was a perfect blank. “It would be prudent, sir, for someone to accompany him—and to protect him.”
    His gaze narrowed. “He also intends to spend a good fortnight flying about the world, so that if he were to be followed by some unknown party, they would lose track of him.”
    “That also seems a well-conceived plan, sir.”
    “A bloody expensive one, if you ask me. And what will I do, Winters? You cannot serve me if you are family.”
    “I do not serve you, Mr. Ames-Beaumont. I am employed by you. I do not see any reason for that relationship to alter, whatever my relationship with Mr. Blake may become.”
    He stood and slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers. A pleased expression lit his features. “If you do become family, Winters—I suppose that means I will be able to pay you less?”
    “I think, sir, you would have to pay me more.”
    The vampire heaved a melodramatic sigh and turned toward the sitting room. “Do not break his heart, Winters, or we will have words.”
    Maggie began to breathe again. She must have been breathing his entire visit—she only just now realized she was able to.
    “And if he breaks mine, sir?”
    He looked back and flashed a grin that seemed to be all fangs. “I would have to thrash him quite soundly. I have many nephews, but there is only one Winters.”
     
     
     
    She was still clutching the sheet to her chest when Geoff came through the sitting room doors.
    And she couldn’t allow this to happen again. Geoff in her bedroom? Yes. In her employer’s house? In his bed?
    Far too awkward.
    Geoff stopped at the foot of the bed. His hair was still damp from a shower, his jeans and T-shirt new. His gaze locked with hers.
    And he couldn’t see her at all.
    Her heart slipped into a heavy, steady beat.
    “Uncle Colin said he spoke with you.”
    “He did.” She threw back the covers and held his gaze as she walked on her knees to the end of the mattress. “And apparently, we will be spending the next two weeks in each other’s company.”
    He reached out, his fingers brushing the sides of her waist. Her skin tightened and prickled with delicious sensation. “I’ll be happy with a fortnight in your garden, Maggie.”
    She touched his jaw. “I wouldn’t be.”
    “And I lied.” His laugh rumbled over her fingers. “I wouldn’t be, either. Ah, Maggie. I’m pushing you into this too fast.”
    “What makes you think I can be pushed anywhere I don’t want to go?”
    “No, I don’t suppose you could be.” He drew a deep breath. “Look, I ought to tell you—I crossed lines, Maggie. I had reason to go over your files, but I went over them again and again, and I went deeper than I should have. I was desperate to know you. If James hadn’t taken Katherine, if we’d met later, after I’d moved here, I’d have pushed you then. And if you’d said no, I’d likely have followed you everywhere in hope that someone would look at you, so that I could, too.”
    Did he expect her to back away because of that? Not a chance. She didn’t know what they had now or what it would be, but she was going to grab on to it—on to him—and hold tight.
    “So,