Beautiful Protection

Effortlessly Dangerous

Being trapped with Erin was the last thing on Xander’s list of acceptable circumstances. He had kept his emotions sealed for years, disciplined and sharp, yet with her so close, it felt like every wall he had built was cracking. Her scent filled the small room, not overpowering, but enough to disarm him, to fog his thoughts like a drug he couldn’t resist.

He was reminded, unwillingly, of that first moment he had held her. Half lifeless in the pool, her body limp in his arms while his own heart pounded with desperation. He remembered the warmth of her skin against his, the softness of her lips when he had been forced to breathe life back into her. He had told himself it was duty, just duty, but the memory clung like a scar that refused to fade. The image of her sobbing against the water afterward haunted him; he had wanted to protect her then, but something deeper had stirred. Something wrong.

She was the first woman he had met who could pull so many emotions from him in such a short span of time. Curiosity. Admiration. Anger. Desire. And worse, hope. He hated himself for it. He was her protector, not her savior, not her lover. He had no business wanting more.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his frustration mixing with his own forbidden thoughts.

“We are locked,” Erin said matter-of-factly, her calm tone almost childlike in its simplicity, unaware that being alone with her in such tight quarters was its own kind of danger for him.

He moved quickly, needing to distract himself, rummaging through the shelves and corners of the storage room for anything he could use to unlock the door. But the space was immaculate, as if the housekeeper had wiped away every possible tool he could have needed. Or maybe his mind was too chaotic to see clearly.

Then, a flicker of gold caught his eye. Her hairpin.

He walked toward her with purpose, his hand already half reaching before he realized how wrong the movement was.

“What are you doing?” Erin asked, blinking up at him, her voice edged with innocent suspicion.

“Stay still,” he murmured.

Wrong move. He should have asked. Instead, his hand was already brushing against her hair, fingers grazing the warmth of her scalp before sliding the pin free. He was struck by the softness of her hair, the delicate texture that slowed his hand for a heartbeat longer than necessary. He cursed himself silently.

Without another word, he turned and attacked the lock with the pin, focusing on the cold metal beneath his fingers instead of the warmth still clinging to them.

“It’s okay, take your time,” Erin said behind him.

You don’t know what you’re saying, woman, he thought bitterly. He was sweating, but not just from the effort.

“I’d be mad if our door could be opened by a single hairpin,” she added, her tone light, teasing.

He bit back a grim smile. After another minute of careful coaxing, the mechanism finally gave way with a soft click.

The door creaked open, and Erin was the first to step into the open air, her scent trailing after her like a final taunt.

“You’re really good,” she said, glancing back at him as he followed her out.

“It’s part of the training,” he replied evenly. Conversation. Normal conversation. That was what he needed to ground himself.

“Do you also unlock bombs?” she asked, her brow furrowed in curiosity.

“Dispose of them,” he corrected.

“Not me, though. That’s more of an explosives engineer’s field.”

Her lips curved faintly. “Hmm… I wonder if you could train me in some basic self-defense?”

That caught him off guard. “Self-defense?”

“It just came to my mind,” she admitted. “Earlier, I was helpless. I don’t ever want to feel like that again. I think it’s time to change.” She sighed softly, the memory of Will’s outburst still weighing on her.

Xander studied her. She wasn’t wrong. It would be good for her to learn. It would give her confidence, maybe even save her one day. But it would mean close contact; hands on her, guiding her movements. Already his discipline was wearing thin.

“When do you want to start?” he asked finally.

Her hopeful eyes lifted to his. “How about tonight?”

He couldn’t refuse her. “Sure.”

They parted ways afterward, but the thought lingered in his mind.

In his quarters, Xander sat at his desk with his laptop, searching through notes on beginner self-defense. He wanted to keep the training distant, clinical, but every move he studied seemed to require some form of contact; blocking, gripping, maneuvering. There would be no avoiding it. He exhaled heavily, dragging a hand through his hair.

His phone buzzed. The secure work line.

“Rebel,” he answered.

“Sage,” came the voice on the other end. His codename.

“I’ve got the information you sent earlier. We’re already tracking the past activities tied to it,” Rebel reported.

“Good,” Xander replied.

“It’s solid. Impressive you got this much in less than twenty-four hours,” Rebel said, a note of admiration in his tone.

“It is. And I met Willard Ferguson in person,” Xander added.

“Woah. Careful, man. You think he suspects anything?”

“Maybe. It wasn’t a pleasant meeting. He’ll be asking questions by now.”

“Watch your back, Sage. This project is too big to mess up.”

“I know. Just do your part. Don’t miss any details,” Xander warned, hinting that the conversation was running longer than it should.

“Alright. I’ll check in again Sunday.” The line went dead.

Xander sat in silence, staring at the documents spread across his desk. They were only the beginning. The bigger concern was Erin. She had been the last one holding the papers before they vanished, and that put her directly in the line of fire.

He pushed the worry aside and headed for the shower. Steam filled the room, washing away the tension for a few minutes. He shaved, trimmed, sprayed cologne across his pulse points, then smoothed wax into his damp hair until it sat neatly. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he flexed absently. His lean muscles were the product of years of discipline, yet for once he found himself questioning why he cared tonight.

“What a complete show-off,” he muttered at his reflection, shaking his head.

Dressed in fitted yoga pants and a snug white shirt, he headed toward the living room.

And froze.

Erin was already there, waiting. The sight of her nearly undid him. Black leggings hugged her legs, outlining every curve. A plain white v-neck shirt sat against her chest, simple yet alluring, drawing his eyes where they shouldn’t linger.

Danger. That was what she was. Effortlessly dangerous.

He blinked rapidly, forcing himself to focus before his body betrayed him.

“Are you ready?” Erin asked, her voice light, her expression eager.

More than ready. The words burned on his tongue, but he swallowed them, forcing a crooked grin instead.

And then, without thinking, he winked.

Old habits. They died hard.