Emotionally Compromised (#1) (Available On Amazon) [Preview]

Chapter 6 - Risky Business

ALEX TURNER

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 His smile is just so infectious and it has my special-ops trained knees wobbly. I feel like I am coming down with an illness or something? I take in a deep breath to regain some of my equilibrium.

I am a girl defined by control and I need to get a grip. He’s involved in my assignment. I can’t be so careless.

“Do you have a car?” he asks.

            I am still completely baffled at what is happening. I stumble with my words and forget what language to use, “sim, eu faço…I mean—Yes—Yes, I do. Accept I prefer to take public transit when I can, sooo…not today”. Smooth.

            I exhale frustrated. I want to hit myself. Did I really just almost speak Portuguese to mister big shot? Why don’t I just whip out my gun and badge while I’m at it and ruin everything!

            Still firmly holding my hand as we begin to walk he looks confused for a moment. “Did you just—“

            “—NO” I cut him off. God, help me.

            He laughs at me for a moment and says, “Yes you did. What language was that?”

            I chew my lip nervously and am suddenly glad it wasn’t Arabic I accidently spoke because I would not have a seemingly legitimate answer for that one. I know Portuguese because the only family I have –had was my great aunt and she barely spoke English. “Um, it was Portuguese. I’m half” I manage a weak smile because considering the lying I am going to have to do today, this was the truth.

            Swiftly he responds with, “No wonder you’re so beautiful.”

            Like a reflex, I don’t like the comment for a variety of reasons and I cannot stop my immediate response. I roll my eyes.

            He yanks at my arm halting our stride. It shocks me and it is an immediate glimmer into who Jeremy Hunt really is. His demeanor, playful only moments ago, has shifted and he is suddenly stern CEO as his face sets into a hard line, but his angular features are so sharply beautiful that his face has me mesmerized; commanding my attention.

            “You need to learn to take a compliment.”

            Even though his icy stare is supposed to strike fear it for some reason eggs me on. “Well, if I thought it was genuine, maybe I would.”

            He still isn’t willing to let go of my hand as I try to tug it away.

            “I think you are beautiful,” he says forcefully soft. I am still trapped in his gaze and my mouth goes dry.

He continues, “I know you work in an environment where people may say that to you all the time, but I am not one to use the word ‘beautiful’ so easily, ok?” oh, he still thinks I am a waitress –how could I forget?

            And before letting me respond he takes his freehand and runs his long fingers gently down my face, and traces his thumb over my bottom lip as if I am some cherished being. Who is this guy? He is just too good at this. My training never prepared me for this.

            We continue our walking as my breath hitches in my throat and I know I am in for it.

And this man, who has somehow destroyed my ability to filter myself, I blurt out, “you need to know that I can’t do this, I’m no good for you.” This is my big defense mechanism?