“Not your decision.” Planning to push his hand away, she lifted her arm…and felt as if she was moving through Jell-O. “Oh hell. I hate when you’re right.”
“It does get annoying, doesn’t it?”
“Would you have someone call a taxi, please?”
“No. But I will have someone drive you home…and escort you safely into your house.”
She eyed him. “Jessica has to put up with your overprotectiveness. I don’t.”
“Actually”—he turned her head to one side and examined the graze on her cheekbone— “this time you do.”
* * * *
Ben Haugen had been to Anne’s house before when he chauffeured her and her friends to a bachelorette party last winter. It was on the barrier island of Clearwater Beach and down a quiet cul-de-sac.
As Ben walked around his car, he could see past Anne’s cottage-style house to the ocean beyond. How could she afford a beach house on a bounty hunter’s salary?
When he opened the passenger door, the interior light showed she was still asleep in the tipped-back seat. She’d miscalculated the effect of alcohol on pain pills, Z had said. Ben had made that mistake a time or two.
Her dark brown hair, which she’d worn braided back in a severe style, had come undone. The loose tendrils softened her aristocratic face. She wasn’t a small woman—maybe five-eight—but beautifully formed, with small breasts and a tight, rounded ass. A darkening bruise marred the sculpted beauty of her right cheekbone.
God fucking dammit, he’d never seen anyone so beautiful.
“Mistress Anne.” He unfastened her seatbelt. Hell, she wasn’t budging. With a grunt of exasperation, he checked the purse that Z had retrieved from her locker. Her house keys were clipped to the strap. “I hope you don’t have a dog, woman, or you’ll have a real bouncy ride.” He set the purse in her lap and plucked her off the seat.
She was heavier than he expected. Undoubtedly had more muscles than the last woman he’d lifted. He kicked the car door shut and carried her up to the cottage.
After unlocking the door, he opened it cautiously. No dog. Anne snoozed against his shoulder as he walked through the foyer, took a guess, and headed up the stairs. An opened door revealed the master bedroom—or would that be called the mistress bedroom? Using his elbow, he flipped on the light switch.
A chandelier came to life revealing icy blue walls. A glass-fronted fireplace with an ornate mirror over the mantel. A canopied bed with a ruffled floral bedspread. A white couch with fancy legs in front of a wall of windows. All blue and white, like an airy summer garden, it was the most feminine room he’d ever seen.
But not a plant anywhere. Everything in place. As spotless as if a drill sergeant was due for inspection.
She roused when he laid her on the bed, and damned if Ms. Feminine didn’t try to punch him.
The candle-shaped lights overhead provided crappy illumination—and hell, she probably only saw a hulking monster over her. He caught her delicate fist in his oversized palm. “Easy, Ma’am.”
Her finely arched brows drew together as she tried to sit up. He didn’t miss the way her hand grabbed her ribs. Damn foolish woman.
“It’s Ben. From the Shadowlands. I brought you home.”
“Ah. Ben.” She gingerly relaxed back on the mattress. “Thanks for the ride. Please tell Z I said so.”
“You’re welcome, Mistress Anne.” He shifted his weight, uncomfortable as hell. But the garment she wore seemed to be some combination of a corset and a dress. It had obvious ribbing and was way too tight. She couldn’t sleep in it. “Uh…you need to get out of that contraption.”
He was standing over her—one big ugly guy. She was flat on her back and totally unconcerned. “Do I now?”
The edge of warning in her voice made his cock stir.
“Yes, Ma’am.” The honorific came easily to his lips. She reminded him of the elegant Army Ranger Captain during Ben’s first deployment. The guy was always in control and, even when covered with blood and filth, still refined.
He smiled. “How about you order me to give you some help?”
Her snort of exasperation sounded like a kitten’s sneeze. “Benjamin, if a subbie tells me to order him to do something, then who’s in charge?”
“Got me there.” And damned if he would leave without making her more comfortable. “You going to punch me if I help you strip down?”
She eyed him. Her pupils were still smaller than normal, turning her eyes more blue than gray. “I never appreciated how stubborn you are.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Odd how much he liked saying that to her.