Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

WILLOW

W illow knew that Cage would never come right out and tell her if he was an assassin or not, but he and his men had protected her. He wouldn't do that if he was going to try and kill her, would he? How would she even ask him that? Point blank? ‘So, tell me, Cage, are you a highly paid assassin sent here to murder me and if so, who's paying you? And when is it likely to happen—before or after you fuck me like a porn star?' Good god, I need to get over myself.

Even if he was a stone-cold killer, he'd never admit it, and if he was, she doubted she'd ever see death coming. It was a dark thought that lingered at the back of her mind, surfacing at odd moments, but she tried to push it away and continued to remind herself that he and his men had put their lives on the line for her. Her mind was filled with far too many erotic thoughts and images to continue to think along those lines. And yet… She was becoming obsessed with him, but she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Her fears about her own sanity started to diminish as well. Cage was an attractive man, and her body knew it. That's all it was—a physical and hormonal reaction to a gorgeous hunk of an alpha male. The way he seemed to lead without expending any effort only added to his allure. Besides, he was very protective of her. When the elite soldiers who were outside the castle walls got too near, male or female, he stepped in their way. When one seemed to ogle her by the pool, Cage had sharp words for the man and sent him running.

That made her smirk. But then she wondered why he was bothering. If he wasn't going to touch her, who was he to stop her from having another man in her bed? Not that she wanted anyone but him, but that wasn't the point. She attempted to flirt half-heartedly with one of the soldiers to try and goad Cage into doing something; anything.

She supposed in a way it had. Cage would allow no one—security detail or soldier—by the pool at all when Willow was out there. Cage stood with his back to the wall, just right of the gate, not ten feet away from her. Willow was fairly certain he was watching her. His face was pointed in her direction, but he'd found some very dark, mirrored sunglasses that hid his eyes completely.

She almost wondered if he was watching her to memorize how she looked in her swimming suit. She was on the lounger, flat on her stomach, and decided to turn over. As she did so, her top moved, and her breasts were exposed. She looked right at Cage and saw only one movement—he licked his lips. Otherwise, he was rock solid and still. She pulled at the top to cover herself, but it gave her an idea. Maybe she could taunt him into making a move?

The idea that he was watching her but not moving was hot. How long would he stay still? How long would he watch her? It sparked new fantasies, fantasies she could never act out. Or could she? Willow knew she was losing it, but that didn't stop her from thinking and wondering. She'd never been an exhibitionist—okay, except for that day when she'd masturbated where anyone could see her—but the idea of putting on a show sent warmth straight to her core. She wanted Cage in a way that was truly insane.

The days continued to pass, each one blurring into the next as the heat of the sun and the rhythm of the waves became her only constant companions. Teams of soldiers came and went outside the castle walls, and Cage rotated the positions of those on the security detail. Cage's presence was a steady pulse in her life, a reminder of both safety and the tantalizing unknown.

She found herself constantly aware of him, his movements, his expressions—those that she could read, anyway. He was like the fortress itself, impenetrable and unyielding, but every now and then, she caught glimpses of something else. Something raw and untamed beneath the surface.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue over everything, Willow decided to test the boundaries a little further. She lounged by the pool, wearing a different bathing suit that left little to the imagination. It had a deep plunge in the front, an open back, and fabric that clung to her every curve, but in a good way. She could feel Cage's eyes on her, even though he stood stoically by the gate, seemingly disinterested.

Willow stretched languidly, arching her back in a way that she knew showcased her figure. She knew because she used to study videos of how to make herself alluring to her husband. When she realized Frank had never really been interested in her sexually, she'd given up. But maybe all those videos would now come in handy. She glanced over at Cage and saw his jaw clench, a muscle twitching as he fought to maintain his composure. She kept her face a mask, but inside she grinned like the Cheshire cat. The sight sent a thrill through her, and she decided to push teasing Cage just a little bit more.

She stood up slowly, making sure to draw out the movement, and walked to the edge of the pool. She dipped a toe in, shivering slightly at the coolness of the water, then turned back to look at Cage. His sunglasses were still on, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze.

Willow's heart pounded as she took a step forward, her body swaying slightly. She let her hands trail over her hips, adjusting the swimming suit that had shifted just a bit. Cage's lips pressed into a thin line, and she could see the effort it took for him to remain still.

"Cage," she called out, her voice soft but carrying across the stillness of the afternoon. "Could you help me with something?"

He hesitated for a moment before moving away from the wall and walking towards her. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists and then relaxed. He stopped a foot away from her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.

"What do you need, Willow?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something she couldn't quite identify.

She held up a bottle of sunscreen. "Could you get my back? I don't want to burn."

For a moment, she thought he might refuse. His jaw worked, and she thought she could see the struggle in his eyes behind those dark glasses, but maybe that was only an illusion fueled by her fantasies. Just when she thought he would walk away, he took the bottle from her, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment.

"Turn around," he said, his voice gruff.

Willow obeyed, her heart racing. She could feel his eyes on her as she turned, presenting her back to him. The first touch of his hands was electric, sending shivers down her spine. He was methodical, careful not to touch more than necessary, but every brush of his fingers felt like fire sparking along on her skin.

She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation. She could hear his breath, slow and measured, as he worked. When he finished, he stepped back quickly, as if he couldn't trust himself to stay close any longer.

"Thank you," she said, turning to face him. He nodded curtly and handed her the bottle before retreating to his post by the gate.

Willow watched him go, a mixture of satisfaction and frustration bubbling within her. She had gotten to him; she was sure of it. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted him to break, to let go of that rigid professional demeanor and show her the beast she was beginning to believe now lay beneath the surface.

Who was she kidding?

She wanted him to lose control and ravage her.

Another week passed in much the same way, the tension between them a constant undercurrent. Willow's fantasies grew more vivid, more insistent, and she found herself caught in a web of desire and frustration. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't stop herself.

One evening, as the sun set and the sky turned a brilliant shade of orange, Willow decided to push the boundaries one more time. She waited until she knew Cage was watching, then slowly pushed the straps of her swimming suit off her shoulders, shimmying out of it and letting it fall to the ground.

She stood there, bare to the world, feeling the cool evening air on her skin. Her nipples were puckered, but more from arousal than cold. Willow could see Cage's reaction, the way his body tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. She turned to face him, her heart pounding.

"What are you doing, Willow?" His voice was low, dangerous.

She took a step towards him, then another. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You're playing a dangerous game," he said, his eyes locked on hers.

She smiled, a slow, sultry smile. "Maybe I like danger."

Cage's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. But then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart racing, her body aching with unfulfilled desire, and feeling like a fool.

The next morning, Willow woke with renewed determination. She wasn't going to let Cage's stoic facade deter her. She wanted him, and she was going to make sure he knew it. She dressed in a simple sundress, the fabric light and airy, and made her way to the kitchen for breakfast.

Cage was already there, his back to her as he prepared a cup of coffee. She watched him for a moment, appreciating the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt and the strength in his shoulders.

"Good morning," she said, her voice cheerful.

He turned to look at her, his expression neutral. "Good morning."

She walked over to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Sleep well?"

"As well as can be expected," he replied, his eyes flicking over her briefly before looking away.

She leaned against the counter, sipping her coffee and studying him. "Cage, can I ask you something?"

He glanced at her, his expression wary. "What is it?"

"Why are you here?" The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

He took a deep breath, his gaze steady. "I'm here to keep you safe."

She shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Why are you really here? Why do you care so much?"

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he set his coffee cup down and looked at her, really looked at her. "Because I'm a member of the Resistance, and you provided us with valuable intel."

What was the old saying, ‘in for a penny, in for a pound?'

"Do you care about me at all as a person?"

"More than I should."

That stopped her dead in her tracks. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but that wasn't it. Her heart skipped a beat and then she pushed forward. "Then why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Because I have to," he said, his voice rough. "If I let myself get too close, I might not be able to do my job. And if something happens to you because of that, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

She took a step towards him, her eyes searching his. "But what if nothing happens? What if we're safe here, and we're just wasting time?"

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek. "We can't take that risk."

She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. "I don't want to be safe, Cage. I want to be with you."

He let out a shuddering breath, his hand dropping to his side. "Willow…"

But she didn't let him finish. She stepped closer, her body pressing against his, and tilted her head up to kiss him. For a moment, he was still, and she feared he would pull away. But then his arms came around her, and he kissed her back, his lips hungry and demanding.

This wasn't a kiss like any she'd felt before. Those had been awkward, fumbling movements with tongues and mouths and had done nothing to kindle her desire, but this wasn't that. This was seductive and dominant. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, surging in as soon as her lips parted, sliding in, over and around, dancing with hers as if they'd been kissing for years. His hand came up, tangling in her hair, fisting it so he could angle her head where he wanted it.

The world seemed to fall away as they kissed, all her fears and doubts melting in the heat of his embrace. She'd wanted this for so long, and now that she had it, she never wanted to let go.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily. Cage's eyes were dark with desire, and she could see the struggle within him.

"We shouldn't…" he began, but she cut him off with another kiss, pressing her lips against his, exploring his mouth and her own arousal as he took over once more, commanding her response.

"Don't think," she whispered against his lips. "Just feel."

He groaned, pulling her closer. She may not have battered down his defenses, but she'd made the first breach through those walls. This might be only the beginning, but Willow was determined to press forward and not let him retreat. It might not be much, but it was enough. For now, it was enough.