Page 30 of Shielding Serena

The antique doorbell dinged, sending peals of sound through the house.

“Jesus,” Walker muttered. “He must’ve set a land-speed record.” He smiled. “I could’ve done with a little more necking.”

Serena smiled, then checked herself in an antique beveled mirror lining one section of the dining room, making sure her lipstick was still in place. Once a PR person, always a PR person, at least to anyone outside her personal sphere. She looked a little starry-eyed, but that was all right. They were adults. People would figure it out if they decided to take it further, especially given their history. Small towns had very, very long memories.

Quentin stood on the porch, a gear bag in hand, surveying the eaves and rafters of the rambling old Victorian. Serena opened the door wider. “Come on in, Quentin. Can I get you something to drink?”

He shook his head and stepped inside, already focused on the task of making her safer.

What she was going to do about Walker after Quentin left, she had no idea.

CHAPTER 13

Walker knew that Quentin was a wizard, but it was truly amazing to watch him integrate a top-tier security umbrella over The Menagerie without any of it being obvious. If customers looked really, really hard, they might see a camera here or there, but they were artfully hidden within the chaos, even to his trained eye.

Serena made noises about having camera coverage in the inventory room upstairs, but he prevailed without too much of a fight when he stated that this install likely make her insurance premiums go down.

After that, she left them alone.

“Anything more on whoever tripped the perimeter sensors?”

Quentin shook his head as he installed an encrypted central Wi-Fi manager behind a particularly garish Carnivale mask on the south wall. “Nothing new. It was probably hikers.”

Because Walker knew he was likely correct, he let it go and helped his friend finish the install, before seeing him out the back door.

The Menagerie was now a fortress. Nothing would happen in here without them knowing about it instantly. When all this was over, they’d hand the reins over to Serena to manage it how she wished.

Later that night they chose a horribly cheesy eighties movie to watch, making themselves comfortable on the couch in the common room. When Serena tipped her head against his shoulder, he draped his arm around her. It felt good, right, even as that familiar tingle of sexual awareness ran between them.

He figured they’d get around to going to bed together at some point, but he liked this part just as much. Getting to know her as an adult woman would make it all the sweeter, but there was something about putting the moves on her in the place where she’d been assaulted that felt wrong. So he’d bide his time, something he was good at. That didn’t mean the press of her warm, supple body against his didn’t make him hard as a post.

He stifled a smile when he realized that she’d fallen asleep and was snoring lightly, her body burrowed against his. If nothing else, he’d given her enough of a sense of security that she felt comfortable dozing off.

The movie ended and the credits rolled, so he clicked off the remote and sat there in silence, not willing to disturb her.

As he sat there, his thoughts moved on to what to do next, for both the business and their inaugural client.

He knew she wasn’t going to like it, but he was going to look into her ex, starting tomorrow. Her father as well. From his work in private security, he knew assaults and murders were usually committed by someone the victim knew. Did he think that was the case here? No, not really. From what Serena had said about her ex, he didn’t seem like the type to get his hands dirty. Same with Parker Gates. But he still needed to check them out. Tomorrow he’d begin using his resources and Quentin’s computer know-how to track down the whereabouts of Marcus Anderson.

Same with Mr. Higgins. Since Serena had his contact info, that should be an easy enough search. He’d have to figure out how to get only-known-as-Bobby’s last name. Or maybe his prints would be faster. Quentin could probably get a result faster than the FBI if he wanted to.

Serena murmured, beginning to wake. Every resolution he’d made about taking things slow evaporated like mist as she tilted her face up to his. Her expression was soft, so soft and slumberous. It was the same face she’d had at seventeen when they’d woken after making love. There was nothing in the world that would stop him from kissing her now.

He dipped his head and covered her mouth with his, contentment and need warring within him. But he was a big boy and could curb himself. So instead, he pulled her close and kissed her. Long, slow kisses that should have comforted, but instead stoked a fire within him that threatened to rage out of control.

Serena hummed in response and gave as good as she got, her lips opening, her tongue questing. She tasted like heaven and sin. Grasping her hips, he lifted her until she straddled him, never breaking the kiss. She gave a surprised little feminine sound of approval and then sank into the kiss even deeper.

He forced his hands to stay where they were, bracing her hips, but allowed his thumbs to move in little circles beneath her shirt, tracing soft warm skin. When she began to rock against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her breath sighing against his mouth, he almost broke. But when he took her to bed again, it would be in a bed, not on the fucking sofa.

He tore his lips away from hers. “It’s killing me, but I’ve got to be the bigger man here, Serena,” he said on a groan.

She lifted her face away from his, her lips swollen, her eyes heavy-lidded and sensual. “Why?”

He feathered his thumb over her cheekbone. “Because I won’t take advantage of you in the place you were made vulnerable.”

She looked confused for a long moment, then a smile curved that generous mouth. “Saving me from myself, are you?”

He chuckled, but it was a strangled sound. “Something like that.”