To Woo A Warrior (Southern Sanctuary) (5 page)

Chapter Six

Hadleigh hoped to high heaven above
that if the Goddess were observing her she would make allowances for the fact
that she was positively drooling over the shiny wall of weapons.
Thy should
not covert other people’s property but now that
they were standing closer the workmanship and detail was positively stunning.
She just wished she could ditch this group and inspect the collection up close
and personal. She must have made a small sound. Maybe a moan for the girl next
to her, the one with the long perfect dark hair elbowed her in the ribs,
sending her a conspiratorial smile as she muttered under her breath. “I know
he’s gorgeous! Lucky us we get to spar with him.”

Whoa, what?  Head in the game
Hadleigh! What had she just missed? The older man in the suit Michael Preston
had greeted them. With his greying short back and sides black hair and stiff
stance she was guessing ex-military. He’d blathered on about Maat Productions
being a family then he’d introduced the man the girl next to her had mentioned
was gorgeous.

Hadleigh supposed he was. Tall,
taller than her even, which she always appreciated in a man. He was dressed in
black combat fatigues, kind of mirroring what she had on in fact. Great it was
official,
she was dressed like a man, so much for being fun,
flirty and feminine.

Worse the guy was downright pretty;
he could give Declan a run for his money. Though where Dec was simmering sexy
this pretty boy exuded more of a mischievous air that made you think he’d be a
lot of fun in and out of the sack. All that burnished tan skin, dark tawny
hair, flashing white smile and a killer dimple in his right cheek. There was no
doubt he was gorgeous and from the reaction of her fellow candidates they must
have come to the same conclusion. Then why did her attention keep wandering
back to the wall of weapons? There must be something seriously wrong with her
that she’d rather salivate over sharp shiny objects than a
living
breathing
hunk. Goddess she really was burnt out on men.

The second round of the interview
process consisted of having to face pretty boy on the challenge mat. Someone
must have mentioned his name at some point but for the life of her Hadleigh
couldn’t recall it. Michael Preston had a clipboard and called out a name.
Hadleigh watched, doing her best to keep her expression neutral as the first
candidate
Deedee
burst into tears after breaking a
nail and failing to make pretty boy move in the slightest.

The second candidate was the girl
with the long dark hair,
Ginni
. She must have had
some martial arts training as she applied textbook moves but each one was
blocked and repelled. She ended up flat on her back, more from over extending
on a high kick than her opponent making any offensive move. The next candidate
Suziee
, stated that she hadn’t realised how physical the
role was going to be and as she had another audition lined up tomorrow for a
body wash commercial she wasn’t going to risk any bruises.

Hadleigh bit back a sigh as Michael
Preston called her name. The humiliations of this infernal day just kept on
rolling in. Taking up her place opposite pretty boy on the mats she ignored the
twinkle in his eye and the slight smug smile as he gave her the once over.

“Hel
..
”

Who knows what he’d been going to
say. She wasn’t there for conversation. She was there to knock him down. So she
did. With a lightning fast jab to the throat and then a chop to the back of his
neck. She was back in the place she started between the inhalation and
exhale
of one breath, staring down at pretty boy as he lay
on his back struggling to breathe.

Suddenly men, dressed exactly like
the one on the mat surrounded her. In fact his mirror image, twin she supposed,
only with dark gold hair, rather than tawny brown was crouched over his brother
staring up at her with interest. “What happened?”  He directed the
question her way.

Hadleigh shrugged, it seemed obvious
to her. “I think I broke the pretty one.”

“Flynn … Flynn.”

Ah so that was the name of the man
lying winded on the mat.

“You alright bro? Talk to me, do we
need medical?”

Flynn managed to take one deep
breath and then another, slowly relaxing. “She thinks ... I’m … pretty.”

Snorting with disgust his twin
dropped his brother’s head with a muffled thud and rose to his feet to face
Hadleigh. A grin on his identically gorgeous face, though his dimple was on the
left. “You’re lucky we have a policy here, you break it, you buy it.”

“Not if the product is defective in
the first place.” The deep bass issued from a man who looked like every
mother’s bad dream and every girl’s bad boy fantasy.  Easily 7ft the man
had light coffee coloured skin and liquid black eyes.  A brutal buzz cut
added to both his menacing appearance and at the same time drawing attention to
sharp cheekbones and the stark black mamba snake tattoo that started just below
his granite jawline, disappearing beneath the collar of his tight shirt until
its tail appeared to circle down his right arm to the wrist.

“It was a surprise attack Drum. I
want a do over. Best two out of three.” Flynn had managed to sit up.

“What is it with you flyboys and do
overs? There are no do overs in life. You got knocked down, 2 seconds flat.
Deal with it.” This came from a blonde giant of a man as he stepped over the
recovering Flynn to come to a stop directly before her.

Thankfully he directed his immediate
attention over her shoulder to Michael Preston, requesting he escort the other
candidates out. That gave Hadleigh precious seconds to lock her knees so she
wouldn’t melt to the floor in a pile of drool. It was like this man had stepped
directly out of the sun. Everything about him was golden and glowing. From his
mesmerising burnished gold eyes, to his skin that glittered and glistened as if
brushed by the finest purest white sand. His hair was a golden white, brushing
his ears in a careless mop as if he had a habit of running his fingers through
it. And that body … she sent another message to her knees demanding they do as
they were told. Her years of training kicked in allowing her to sweep a quick
assessing gaze along his physique before focusing once more on his face.

But oh the good Goddess! The memory
of what she saw caused her mouth to water and her stomach to flutter in a way she
had never experienced. Was this instant lust? What woman in their right mind
wouldn’t lust after this man ... this God? Maybe this just proved she was
normal after all. Who wouldn’t take a look at the 7.3ft hunk of man candy in
front of her, in that tight black t-shirt that emphasised his broad shoulders
and muscular arms and not want to take a bite out of him?

Then like a bucket of cold water she
remembered who she was, what she was. Her history with men flashed before her
eyes. Starting with her first boyfriend from college, the water polo captain,
who had pursued her, complimented her and taken her virginity. Only to turn on
her the next day, telling all his friends she was too manly, too cold. Maybe
Charisse was right and he should have been good-natured enough to joke about
her faux pas after their lovemaking or manly enough to try again. In what
rule book
was it written that you couldn’t ask a simple
question after your first sexual experience? Okay so now she knew asking if the
activity was supposed to be that brief was wrong but still Jeremy should have
taken her inexperience into account and not reacted as if she had pulled out a
knife and emasculated him.

Following that debacle had been a
parade of brief, all too frustrating encounters. All hampered by her inability
to be soft, feminine and essentially loveable, or so her many suitors had
claimed. The other common theme they seemed to agree upon was that it was her
fault that she never attained fulfilment. That she was too controlling to ever
really let
herself
go. Which was why after many
frustrating years of hollow one-night stands, she had invested in the pulsating
showerhead. Goddess she needed to pull herself together here and remember that
this was a job, a four-week job at that.  Internally snapping to attention
as the blonde god extended his hand to shake her own.

“Welcome, I’m Vaughn, head of the
operations team here. Meet Drum my second.” The tall Latino with the snake
tattoo nodded in her direction. “You’ve met Flynn, our crash test dummy for the
day and this is his brother Dash. They’re in charge of transport and logistics,
so if you need anything in
that arena talk
to the
Flyboys. Intel belongs to Marcus, he’s the one who does all the research and
finds the assignments.”

Vaughn gestured towards a tall man
dressed in their uniform of black pants and a t-shirt off to the side. Marcus
appeared to be simultaneously tapping away on a handheld keyboard whilst
carrying on a conversation on the phone clamped to his left ear. Perhaps
sensing he was the current focus of the conversation he flicked his head back
getting his slightly too long black hair out of his eyes so he could send her a
quick genuine smile of greeting along with a rather cheeky wink from one of his
stunning bright blue eyes.

“Then we have Rafferty on
comms
, visual and general equipment. Rafe will be the one
to fit you out with an earpiece and a camera for the onsite visits.” A casual
wave and smile was sent in her direction from
an auburn
haired, green-eyed man standing directly behind Marcus. “And lastly this is
Nate, public relations and all round Mr Fix-it.”

Hadleigh couldn’t keep the frown off
her face as gorgeous sandy haired Nate stepped up, took her left hand and
brushed a kiss across the knuckles. “
Enchante
, if you
need anything … anything at all.” His dark amber eyes glittered with interest
and good humour. “Perhaps a guide to show you around this fair city or escort
you out of an evening? A beautiful lady such as yourself...”

He came to a sudden halt as Hadleigh
squeezed his fingertips in a vice like grip.

“What are you doing?” She enquired
through gritted teeth.

He managed a tight smile despite the
fact that he had to be in some pain.  Hadleigh was willing to give him
credit for that.

“Just a little harmless flirtation.”

“Don’t.” Hadleigh ordered. 
Releasing his fingers abruptly, unable to explain that when a man flirted with
her it always felt false, as if he were secretly making her the butt of some private
joke. She returned her attention back to Vaughn, a little perturbed to find he
still had her right hand clasped securely in his. She tried a small
experimental tug but he only smiled, a flash of white teeth that made her
stomach dip and her mouth water. “I’m going to need that hand back.”

Vaughn loved the way those clear
grey eyes focused so intently upon him. Damn he loved everything about her,
that plump kissable mouth, that perfect straight nose, even the way she’d
frowned at Nate had been downright delicious. Now that he had the opportunity
to study her up close he found he couldn’t stop looking.

“My hand
..?
”
Hadleigh reminded him again.

“You look hungry.” He announced
suddenly. “Are you hungry?”

Hadleigh shrugged, slightly off
balance by the change in topic. “I could eat.”  Let’s face it she could
always eat but she wasn’t going to tell the golden god that.

“I think I’d better feed you. And
whilst we’re eating we can talk.”

He flashed those pearly whites again
and she noticed the faintest gold burr of a five o’clock shadow along his
jawline. For a split second she contemplated reaching out to test whether it
would be rough or soft under her touch. Okay maybe he was
right,
her blood sugar must be low or something. Frowning once again she tugged harder
on her hand but Vaughn retained a firm but gentle grip on her. This man was a
complete enigma. Men did not casually hold her hand.

“Okay so it’s settled.  I’m
going to feed Hadleigh and you guys can … be elsewhere.” Vaughn didn’t really
care where they went or what they did as long as they left him alone with
Hadleigh.

Rafe held up a hand in protest.
“Vaughn we really need to get Hadleigh fitted out.”

This caught Hadleigh’s attention.
“No way am I wearing those sparkly purple shorts!”

For a moment there was complete
silence in the room as seven men contemplated the thought of Hadleigh wearing
tight short shorts. Vaughn caught a glimpse of his
team mates
’
expressions and fought the urge to strike every one of them down. Gosh if he
felt like that with his own men, no way could he deal with Joe public getting
the opportunity to leer at Hadleigh. He doubted there was enough swampland in
all of Florida to deal with the bodies.  “You’re right, no shorts for
you.”

Ouch, Vaughn said it so vehemently
it stung Hadleigh’s ego a bit. It was one thing for her to be insecure about
the size of her butt.  It was another thing when a man so
whole heartedly
agreed that it was huge.

There were mutters of ‘Killjoy’ and
‘No fair’ from the men but other than that they seemed disinclined to make a
big deal out of it.