The elevator came to a smooth, almost indiscernible stop. The familiar dinging sound gave her the mental slap she needed to break away from such inappropriate thoughts.
Ivan wasn’t hers to be thinking of in that way, and never would be. For one thing, a man as alluring as he was, the guy had to have a wife or girlfriend waiting for him back home. Or at least a slew of women waiting in the wings for their chance at the hot alpha stud.
But the other more important fact was their reason for being here in the first place.
She’d been placed under Monroe Investigations’ protection, and Ivan—the poor bastard—had the bad luck of being the one to answer the door when she’d knocked.
That was it.
Nothing more.
The elevator doorsslid open with a soft whisper and Cera followed Ivan out onto the plush carpet of the tenth floor. Moonlight filtered through a large set of tall windows to their left, casting a silvery glow on the corridor’s magnificent décor.
Ivan’s confident stride led her past exquisite paintings and rustic fixtures, but it was his deep rumble that truly captured her attention.
“This entire floor has a top-of-the-line security system,” he remarked while pointing to a handful of tiny cameras mounted high near the ceiling.
She paid close attention to where he’d motioned.
One camera pointed directly at the elevator. Three more had been strategically placed along the hallway’s length, and another was positioned near a set of large, double doors at the far end.
His gaze locked in on those doors. “That’s where you’ll be staying tonight.”
“The cameras make me feel a lot better,” Cera shared.
“Good. That’s the goal. Well that and to deter anyone stupid enough to try anything up here. And the system’s the best on the market.” There was a hint of pride in that last part, as well as when he told her, “Jax and I installed it ourselves. We’ve got eyes on every corner of this floor now, as well as inside the suite. Not the bathrooms, of course, so you might want to be sure to change in there instead of the bedrooms.” A quick, sideways glance in her direction. “But our client’s safety is our top priority.”
Cera nodded as they came to a stop in front of the rustic doors. With a swift, practiced motion, Ivan tapped in his code on the keypad near the door’s handle, followed by a swipe of a keycard he’d slid from his wallet. The light on the keypad switched from red to green, and the locks clicked open.
She tried—and failed—not to notice the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt as he grabbed both handles, gave them a turn, and pushed the doors open with ease. A soft gasp escaped before she could stop it as she got her first glimpse of the private space.
“Here it is,” Ivan murmured, his rugged male voice sending shivers down her spine. “Your home for the night.”
Cera nearly gasped when she got her first glimpse of the room.
“Wow.” She stared doe-eyed, unable to tear her eyes away from the breathtaking room.
Correction, it wasn’t a room. It was a gigantic, magnificent living space nicer than any apartment she’d ever lived in.
One corner of Ivan’s lips curved with a tiny smirk, his chiseled features softened by a rare show of warmth in his piercing blue eyes. “You should be comfortable here.”
Uh, yeah. Pretty sure this will do.
Upon entry, she was bathed in warm, golden light, its large windows framing the majestic Rockies like a live painting. Like in the hallway—only better—thick, plush carpet sank underfoot, and the aroma of freshly cut flowers lingered in the air.
Ivan began his tour of the spacious private suite. While he spoke, Cera had to force herself to really focus on his words, rather than the spine-tingling shivers his deep voice created.
Really? That’s what you’re focused on? How about you focus on the layout, things you could use as a weapon, if need be, and the best routes of escape, rather than your under active sex life?
Under active was a stretch. More like non-existent. But her subconscious had a valid point.
Blaming her uncontrollable thoughts on pure and utter exhaustion, Cera took her own advice and got her head on straight. For the remainder of the tour, she concentrated solely on the safety aspect of the spacious private suite, as opposed to the asinine urge to kiss the man guiding her.
Kiss him? What the hell? You don’t know him like that. You don’t know him atall!And have you forgotten the small matter of your stalker?
“Living room. Obviously.” He nodded toward the space before them.
The large open room had been divided into two separate areas. To the left, a brown leather couch faced two chairs upholstered with a light tan fabric. Positioned between them was a wide, square coffee table with wooden slats atop a black iron frame.