Declan

3

RACHEL TUGGED THE cotton dress over her head and smoothed it down along her hips. She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to be completely objective about her appearance. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she did have a pretty face and a nice body. And, in general, normal men should be at least mildly attracted to her.

Declan Quinn was attracted to her, he’d admitted that. And he was far from normal. He was every woman’s fantasy-handsome, charming, strong, and without a huge ego to get in the way. Since the moment she’d touched him in the kitchen, Rachel had decided that she’d find a way to get him into her bed.

For a long time, she’d been waiting for the right man to walk into her life. But as the months had passed, Rachel had begun to worry that she’d ever enjoy the pleasures of a man’s body. Perhaps it was better to opt for an occasional one-night stand while she waited.

It wouldn’t be difficult to get Declan to surrender. She knew the physiological effects of a woman’s touch, how the sensation of her hand on his skin went racing through his synapses, the neurotransmitters releasing endorphins and giving his brain its cue to feel pleasure.

Men had natural instincts they couldn’t deny and she knew exactly which buttons to push to send those instincts into overdrive. But she’d never used that knowledge to deliberately seduce a man. In a way, it seemed unprofessional. Could she truly enjoy a night in bed with a man who’d been so easily led?

“Of course you could,” she muttered. Rachel sighed and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “It’s time you start to practice what you preach, Dr. Lillian Devine.” She raked her fingers through her hair, then touched up her lipstick. She’d spoken at length on the radio about the various techniques that humans used for flirtation and today, she’d put those techniques to good-

Rachel stopped short, then closed her eyes. This man was supposed to be her bodyguard. And for a few short minutes, she’d forgotten why he was really there. Again, the fear prickled at her thoughts and she forced herself to think of other things. Maybe thoughts of seducing Declan were simply her mind’s way of coping, of relieving the constant stress of her situation.

Still, this attraction between them wasn’t imagined. She’d courted his attention by spraying him in the face with pepper spray, an unconventional approach, but it hadn’t scared him away. They’d begun talking when she’d offered her apology. She’d made her intentions clear by touching him that morning and admitting her attraction.

If they proceeded in a normal manner, there would be a gradual escalation until their bodies began to synchronize, moving together to caress…to kiss…and finally, to make love. It was all very scientific and quite predictable.

Rachel grabbed her sweater from the bed as she walked out of her room. She expected to find Declan dressed and waiting for her. When he wasn’t, she walked to the guest bathroom, finding the door open a crack. “I’m ready,” she said. “Are you?”

He pulled the door open and Rachel found him, dressed only in a towel, his face half-covered with shaving cream. “I’m sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I got caught up on the phone. It’ll just take me a few minutes.”

Rachel nodded, then pulled the door closed. But at the last minute, she let go of the knob and it gaped open. From her vantage point in the hall she could see Declan’s reflection in the wide mirrors that lined the wall behind the sink.

She made a silent study of his body, for the first time having the time to fully appreciate it. Muscles shifted and bunched across his back as he leaned over the sink, bracing one hand on the countertop. Rachel’s fingers twitched as she imagined the feel of his skin, warm and smooth, with hard muscle beneath.

He tipped his head back as he shaved his jawline. There was something so erotic about his task, though it was nothing more than an everyday occurrence to most men. It was patently masculine, something that Rachel had never fully appreciated. In truth, she could spend hours watching him shave and never really get bored.

Her gaze dropped to his waist, so narrow, then his hips. The towel rode low and when he bent forward, she could see the curve of his backside outlined by the soft terrycloth. Rachel knew she was invading his privacy, but she couldn’t help herself. There was something about Declan’s body that captured her attention. Every detail seemed to spark her deepest fantasies.

He straightened, then ran his hand through his hair and an instant later, the towel dropped to the floor. Rachel held her breath, growing slightly dizzy as she did. Oh, he was beautiful. He stepped away from the mirror to turn on the shower and she caught a full frontal view. A tiny moan slipped from her throat and he turned.

Frantic, she pressed her fingers to her lips and stepped away from the door. A few seconds later she heard him turn on the shower. Emboldened, Rachel stepped back to the door and took another peek. The shower door was clear, letting in the light from the bathroom. Through the glass she could see his outline as he moved beneath the water.

Her gaze ran up and down the length of his body, her attention immediately drawn to the tantalizing curve of his hip and buttocks. Researchers always focused on the physical beauty of the female form and its effect on the male of the species, but very few had acknowledged that the male body was just as intriguing.

Rachel felt a warm flush wash over her body and she turned and leaned back against the wall. If she truly wanted to seduce him, then she’d have to be careful. Appearing too eager might result in disappointment. Research had shown that it was always better to prolong the chase, to extend the anticipation until neither party could hold back any longer. She just wasn’t sure if time would be her enemy or her friend.

If Declan caught the stalker tomorrow, then there’d be no reason for him to continue living with her. But if the danger lasted for more than a few weeks, then prolonging the chase would be a bit sadistic. Timing would be crucial to success or failure.

Rachel took a deep breath and focused her thoughts. She wouldn’t make the common mistakes that women often made-she wouldn’t be too aggressive or too passive, she wouldn’t promise what she wasn’t willing to deliver, and she certainly wouldn’t let Declan call the shots.

The sound of the shower suddenly ceased and Rachel hurried back down the hall to the living room. This would be the most complicated social experiment she’d ever conducted. But if she was careful, she’d get exactly what she wanted-Declan Quinn, naked, aroused, and in her bed.

A few minutes later, she heard him exit the bathroom and a few minutes after that, he appeared, fully dressed in a nicely pressed blue oxford shirt and khaki trousers. He’d combed his hair with his fingers and it stood up in damp spikes.

He walked over to the dining room table and seemed to pick up a leather belt. But on closer inspection, Rachel realized it was a shoulder holster, with a handgun in it.

“You carry a gun?” she asked.

He glanced over at her and nodded. “I will when we’re out in public. Just in case.” He slipped the holster over his arms, then buckled it in place. “All right,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “Where are we off to first?”

She wanted to blurt out “bed,” to push him back down the hall toward her room, undressing him as she went. But Rachel cast aside that fantasy. “My office on campus,” she said. “I have to check in with my research assistant and pick up my messages. And there should be a few packages waiting for me.”

Rachel grabbed her purse and her briefcase, then walked out into the hall to the elevator. A few seconds later, Declan joined her. He’d put on a linen sport coat, part of the wardrobe he’d had delivered to the apartment earlier that morning, the outline of the holster was evident through the fabric.

Though she knew it was there to protect her safety, the gun gave her a queasy feeling in her stomach. Declan was taking her case very seriously and he was a professional. If he needed a gun to protect her, then there must truly be danger. Still, she trusted him to keep her safe. As long as he was by her side, then she could go about her business as usual.

“My office on campus is only a ten-minute walk,” Rachel said.

“We’re taking your SUV,” he said.

“But it’s such a nice a day and I thought we could stop and get coffee before we-”

“No stops, no walk,” he said. “The vehicle is safer.”

His expression, so relaxed just a few moments ago, was now tensed. His jaw was tight and his gaze hard. “We follow my rules, all right?”

She stiffened her spine and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “All right. But don’t think you can just order me around. You can simply explain why we have to do things your way and I’ll understand.”

He turned to her. “There may be times I can’t explain,” he said. “I need you to promise me that whatever the situation, if I ask you to do something, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

“We’re both adults and we should both be able to resolve any conflicts we might have with discussion. But we can’t if you get bossy.”

“I am not bossy,” he said. He turned and stared at her, his blue eyes filled with frustration. Declan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. His fists were clenched at his sides and she wondered if she’d pushed him too far. He probably hadn’t slept well last night and now, she was acting like a bitch. But if she was going to spend the next week or two with this man, she wanted to know what made him tick-and pushing him to the edge was a quick way of finding out.

The bell above the elevator door rang and she moved to step inside, but a heartbeat later, she was in his arms, tumbling backwards until they both stumbled to the back wall of the elevator. He turned her around in his arms, pressing her against the wall, the metal rail biting into the small of her back. His body slid along the length of hers until every nerve was aroused and aflame. Declan’s lips hovered over hers, his breath warm. “Kiss me,” he murmured.

Rachel gasped, stunned by the sudden turn of events. “Is that an order or a request?”

“An order,” he said.

His gaze was fixed on her mouth as if he were contemplating exactly how he would attack. She’d temporarily lost the ability to breathe but Rachel didn’t need oxygen. “All right,” she murmured.

An instant later, his mouth came down on hers in a deep and very thorough kiss. Rachel’s knees turned to jelly and she clutched his lapels in her hands just to remain upright. The kiss hadn’t exactly come as a complete surprise considering the attraction that had been slowly simmering between them.

But Rachel hadn’t even considered that he’d choose this particular moment to give in to his desires. Or that he’d frame it in the form of an order to be followed. She’d determined to remain in control, yet at the very first opportunity, she’d simply capitulated without even an attempt at mounting a defense. Had he asked her to strip off her clothes and dance naked for him in the elevator, she probably would have jumped at the chance.

His tongue teased at hers and Rachel had no choice but to surrender to his fierce assault, wrapping her arms around his neck and furrowing her hands through his hair. Rachel hadn’t kissed a man in a long time, but still, she hadn’t remembered it being quite so wonderful.

In the past, she’d always over analyzed everything when it came to male-female relationships, from basic flirtation to kissing techniques to full-scale seduction. But for some reason, she didn’t feel the need to dissect what she was enjoying with Declan. Instead, she simply wanted to enjoy it.

As he kissed her, his hands wandered over her body, skimming along her spine, smoothing across her hips. The light cotton fabric of her dress was thin enough that she could feel the heat of his palms and the sensation was incredibly arousing. A tiny moan escaped her throat and he drew back.

At first, she thought he was simply coming up for air, but then he stepped away, his hands dropping to his sides. “There,” he murmured. “That’s better. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I can concentrate on work.”

“Out of the way?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“You’re a client. I have to keep my focus on the job.”

“And what if you lose your focus again?” she asked. “Will you kiss me again?”

He considered her question for a long moment, a frown furrowing his brow. He opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut, cursing softly.

“You know,” Rachel ventured. “I’m really not your client. Trevor Ross is. He’s the one who pays you, right?”

Declan met her gaze, then swept her back into his embrace. “Good enough for me,” he murmured, his lips soft against hers.

They rode all the way down to the garage without being disturbed and when the doors opened again, Rachel was flushed with excitement, her heart beating wildly and her mind spinning. She wanted to reach over and push the button for the thirty-fifth floor, just so they could ride up and down again. Maybe, given the extra time, they might indulge in something even more intimate.

The valet quickly fetched Rachel’s SUV. But when she made to get behind the wheel, Declan gently took her elbow and led her to the passenger side. “I’ll drive,” he said.

She didn’t bother to argue the point. The after-effects of his kiss had completely numbed her stubborn streak. Gosh, she liked kissing Declan. The way he possessed her mouth, gently invading with his tongue and then retreating, caressing her lower lip with his teeth. Just thinking about it sent shivers coursing through her body.

She’d obviously done everything right, provided all the subtle cues that led him to kiss her. He seemed unable to stop himself, overwhelmed by his need to possess her mouth. As she went back over the past few hours, Rachel really couldn’t pinpoint what it was that had caused him to ignore his better judgment, but she really didn’t care. He’d kissed her, deeply and thoroughly and that was exactly what she’d been hoping for.

When they pulled out of the garage and onto the street, Declan glanced over at her. “I don’t know if your stalker is watching us, but when we’re in public, I think it would be best if we acted as if we were-”

“Friends?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. More than friends. Close. Very close. I don’t want him to think I’m guarding you.”

“Then you want me to pretend you’re my lover?” she asked.

“Yes, I think that would be best.”

They started off down Westminster Street, then continued across the river to the university. Rachel’s office was located in the southwest corner of the Providence University campus. Though she wasn’t a tenured professor, she was well-respected by the rest of the faculty in the anthropology department. Her course on human sexuality, taught with Professor Ellsworth from the biology department, was among the most popular on campus and she and Daniel had authored several important articles together. Later that summer, they were scheduled to present the results of a new research study at a symposium in Switzerland.

“How many people know about your double life?” Declan asked.

“No one at the university. My graduate assistant Simon doesn’t even know. Most of the people at the radio station do, but they wouldn’t say anything. They’re all really supportive, from Jim, the station manager right down to Jerry, the intern.”

Rachel paused, considering whether she ought to tell Declan about Jerry, then decided against it. The young man had a small crush on her, but Rachel got that from some of her male students as well. They looked at her as a sexually accomplished older woman, the stuff of post-pubescent fantasies.

“There’s been a publisher who’s been trying to track me down through the station,” she continued, “but I told Trevor I wasn’t interested in a book deal. And my clients from my private practice aren’t aware. If they suspected, it definitely would have come up during their group sessions.”

“So your stalker knows where you live and that you work at the radio station. But he hasn’t made any contact here at the university?”

A sliver of fear shot through her. Was that what this was about? Revealing Dr. Devine’s real identity to the world? “Recently the letters have been sent to the station and the phone messages have been left there. Before that, I got them in my mailbox at home. Then I moved downtown and stopped mail delivery. He must know my real name.”

“I’m sure he does,” Declan said. “It wouldn’t be hard to find out. He’d just need a computer and a good search engine. And it’s only a matter of time before he comes looking for you here.”

Panic suddenly exploded inside of her. “You have to stop him,” she said. “Before the whole world knows who I really am. This could ruin me professionally. No one will take me seriously.”

Declan reached out and grabbed her hand, then pressed a kiss to her wrist. Strangely, the simple show of affection calmed her. He reached out and smoothed a hand over her face, brushing the hair from her temple and tucking it behind her ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him before that happens.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”

Rachel sat back in the leather seat and took a deep breath. She’d have to trust that Declan knew what was best. If he asked her to jump off the balcony of her apartment, then she’d do it. If he asked her to eat worms, then she’d comply. And if he dragged her into her bedroom and demanded that she make love to him, then Rachel would have no choice but to do exactly what he wanted.

For now, it was best to follow all his orders without question.

DEC SAT ON THE LEATHER SOFA in Rachel’s office and pretended to read the latest issue of the Journal of Comparative Anthropology. But in the half-hour that he’d been with Rachel, he hadn’t read a word. Instead, his attention was intently focused on Dr. Daniel Ellsworth.

The good professor and Rachel sat at a work table stacked with books and covered with manuscript pages, the two of them hunched over their latest journal article. Dec’s gaze came to rest on Ellsworth’s arm, casually draped across the back of Rachel’s chair.

From the moment he’d met the man, there’d been an obvious tension between them. Rachel had introduced Dec as her friend and Daniel Ellsworth as her colleague. But it was clear that Ellsworth considered himself much more that that. He took every opportunity to brush against Rachel’s body, to touch her hand or pat her back. And to Dec’s frustration, she barely noticed.

A soft knock sounded on the door and Rachel’s graduate assistant, Simon Lister, poked his head inside. Dec hadn’t been too fond of him either, immediately pegging him as a snotty little sycophant.

“Dr. Merrill,” Simon said in a nasally voice, “there’s a phone call for you. Dean Wilson on line two.”

Rachel glanced up. “I’ll take it on your phone,” she said to Simon. Smiling at Dec, she excused herself and followed her assistant out the door. Dec decided to take the opportunity to get to know Professor Ellsworth a bit better. But to his surprise, Ellsworth began the interrogation.

“So, how long have you and Rachel been seeing each other?” he asked, turning in his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him.

Dec wasn’t about to give this guy any information he didn’t have to. “Not long,” he said.

“What do you do?”

“Rachel and I?” Dec knew what he was asking, but he wanted to see the guy’s response.

Ellsworth gave him a haughty smile. “Professionally. What’s your profession.”

“I guess you could call me a salesman,” Dec lied. He turned back to his magazine, hoping that his indifference might irritate Ellsworth. It did.

“You just don’t seem like her type,” he said.

“What type is that?”

“Intellectual. I always imagined Rachel would prefer an academic. She’s so focused on her work.”

“Hmm,” Dec replied, continuing to read the magazine. “We really don’t discuss her work.”

Ellsworth gasped. “Her work is very important. Rachel has a great future and I would hate to see her jeopardize it by confusing her priorities. Until she gets tenure here at the university, she has to work very hard to prove herself. And I intend to help her.”

“I’m sure she appreciates that,” Dec said. He tossed the magazine on the table, then grabbed his cell phone from his breast pocket, distractedly scrolling through the missed calls. “So what do you think of her? I mean, she’s hot, right?”

“Hot?”

“Yeah,” Dec said. “Hell, the first time I met her I thought, this woman is a total hottie. She was dressed in this-”

“I’m not interested in Professor Merrill’s…hotness. She’s a colleague.”

“But you’re a guy. You must have noticed. I see how you look at her. Hey, I don’t blame you. There’s no harm in looking.”

“I’m a happily married man,” Ellsworth said.

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Declan knew they were a bald-faced lie. There was no emotion behind the statement, nothing that would make Dec believe Daniel Ellsworth preferred his wife’s company to Rachel’s. Suddenly, Dec had a suspect, a man who had something to gain from Rachel’s fear. Perhaps he’d hoped that she’d confide in him, ask for his help or his protection.

Dec made a mental note to have his staff do a background check on Ellsworth. Every ounce of his experience told him that there was something not quite right about the guy.

“You know, I’m surprised Rachel didn’t mention you,” Ellsworth said, twirling a pencil back and forth through his fingers. “It’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Does Dr. Merrill usually confide in you about her personal life?” Dec asked.

“You answered a question with a question. Is there some reason why you don’t want to answer my question?”

“Actually, your question seemed rhetorical. And I’m wondering why it would make a difference to you.”

“I protect Dr. Merrill’s interests here on campus,” he said. “I look out for her. I make sure she knows everything that’s happening, what people are talking about, who’s getting grant money, where certain professors are being published next. I consider myself something of a mentor to her.”

Dec snatched up another magazine, this time the Journal of American Psychology, then tossed it down. “I guess I’m not going to find Sports Illustrated in here. Or Rolling Stone.”

“Popular culture is the opiate of the masses,” Ellsworth muttered, turning back to his papers.

Dec chuckled. “Did you just make that up?”

“No. Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer first posited the idea. They said that pop culture is like a factory producing goods designed to manipulate the masses into passivity. Pop culture makes people happy and content, no matter how dire their circumstances.”

“Interesting,” Dec said, nodding. “Tell me something. Have you been sitting under any trees lately?”

Ellsworth raised his eyebrow. “No.”

“That’s odd. Because I’m trying to figure out where you picked up that big old stick that’s stuck up your butt.”

At that moment, Rachel strolled back into the office and smiled at them both. “Sorry, that took a little longer than I anticipated.” She walked back to the work table and picked up a page of the manuscript. “Now, where were we?”

Ellsworth shoved his chair back and stood. “Perhaps we should go through this when you don’t have any distractions. Call me and we’ll meet for coffee.” With that, the man strode out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

Rachel glanced over at Dec, a frown wrinkling her brow. “Did you say something to him?”

Dec shrugged. “No. We were just having a pleasant conversation. Getting to know each other. You’re aware that he has a thing for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s married. I know his wife. Our relationship is strictly professional.”

Dec shook his head. “Don’t be so sure. I watched him-watching you. You and him haven’t ever been an item, have you?”

“No,” she insisted. “We knew each other in graduate school. We used to belong to the same study group. When he heard about the opening here, he called and put in a good word for me. We’re colleagues and nothing more. He’s a dear friend. And you’re wrong if you think he’d do anything to hurt me.”

“It’s my job not to be wrong about these things. I’m going to have my staff check him out. I want to get a look into his background.”

“No!” Rachel cried. “I won’t have you digging up dirt on him just to soothe your suspicions.”

“What about this Simon guy? What do you know about him?”

“He’s my graduate assistant. He has been for almost two years now. Dr. Ellsworth sent him over and he’s handling my work very well.”

“So he reports to Ellsworth?”

“No, he reports to me. You’re acting like this is some conspiracy,” Rachel said.

“I know how competitive this academic atmosphere can be. How success is measured by the influence of the people you know. Are you sure that Ellsworth is looking after your interests? Or does he keep you close because of some other motive?”

Rachel grabbed her purse and spun on him. “Enough. I don’t care how long you’ve been doing your job, this time you’re wrong. Now, I have other errands to do on campus and then I’d like to get some dinner. If you’d like to stay here, fine. But if you’re coming with me, we’re not going to talk about this any longer.”

Dec followed her to the door, then grabbed her arm and drew her back inside the office. He shut the door and she leaned back against it as he braced his hands on either side of her head. “Does he know you work at the station? Does he know you’re Dr. Lillian Devine?” Rachel opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She didn’t need to answer. He could see the reply written on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rachel ducked under his arm and crossed the office, then leaned up against the work table. “Because I knew you’d suspect him. We were working late one night and we got to talking and I decided to confide in him. He promised he’d never tell anyone and we haven’t spoken of it since.”

“To your knowledge, he hasn’t told anyone.”

She bit her lower lip as she considered what he was saying. “Not to my knowledge,” she murmured. She sat down on the sofa and tucked her feet up beneath her. Suddenly, Dec regretted being so harsh. Her expression was filled with doubt and confusion-about a person she considered a close friend. “I also told him about my stalker and he seemed genuinely concerned.”

Dec sat down beside her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Rachel leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He sometimes became so intent on doing his job that he forgot she was as confused and troubled about her situation as he was. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Rachel rested her hand on his chest. “I-I guess there could be a chance,” she said.

Dec drew back. “What do you mean?”

“The dean named me to a very prestigious committee about six months ago. Everyone assumed that Daniel would get the position. He was so happy for me. And he really didn’t have time to do the work since he has a big research grant he’s dealing with.”

“All right,” Dec said. “At least you’re being honest with me now.”

Rachel looked up at him and he saw the tears swimming in her eyes. He did the first thing he could think of to make her feel better-he kissed her. Rachel’s lips parted and gently, Dec delved into her mouth, enjoying the taste of her.

As they lost themselves in the kiss, Dec realized that it was getting much more difficult to be objective about Rachel’s case. His growing affection for her was muddling his brain and distracting his attentions. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. She happened into his life and he wasn’t about to walk away without exploring the possibilities.

“Come on,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers. “I’ll take you to lunch.”

But Rachel wasn’t ready to leave. She pushed up on her knees, then straddled his lap, looking deeply into his eyes. “I don’t want to feel this way,” she said.

Dec gazed at her pretty face, smoothing his fingers along her cheek. Leaning forward, he kissed her again. “This way?”

She shook her head. “No. Scared. I can’t relax. I’m not sure who I can trust. I thought this was some stranger, but now, I don’t know. Now, I’m going to be suspicious of everyone.”

“Let me do that,” he whispered.

“I just want to get out of here,” Rachel said.

“Where do you want to eat?”

“No, I mean out of town. Away from this. I don’t have anything going on for the next few days. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. Can’t I just go away and find some place where I don’t have to worry about this? I promise, I won’t let anyone know where I am. And I’ll call in every hour if you want.”

Dec shook his head. “Nope. But if you want to get out of town, I’ll take you. We’ll go back to the apartment, pack a bag and go.”

Her expression brightened. “Where?”

“I have a friend with a place up in Maine. Near Southport. It’s quiet, private and right on the water. We can spend a few days there. We’ll sneak out in my car and I’ll have a couple of my guys watch your place while we’re gone. Maybe your stalker will get desperate and make a mistake.”

Rachel crawled off his lap, her demeanor suddenly much more relaxed. Right now, that’s all that Dec could ask for-a way to make Rachel Merrill happy. That had become the most important objective in his life for the moment and for the next few days, perhaps he could relax a bit as well.