Free Her Only Desire by Delilah Devlin

she had no doubts he could handle any danger that might befall them. But his undeniable masculinity also disconcerted her.
    She imagined being at his mercy, bending to his will. The thought didn’t frighten her. The possibility thrilled her to her toes. Boone Benoit was a dangerous man in more ways than she’d ever imagined.
    The entire trip, while she’d ignored him and his VP of security, she’d imagined him shirtless at poolside, catching him naked coming from his shower. Any number of possible scenarios where she might be caught blushing like a virgin or wiping drool from her chin. She’d never dated a man like him—so powerful or damnably intuitive. Damn, she was going to make a fool of herself. She just knew it.
    They drove through mountains sparsely peppered with crooked trees and limestone rock outcroppings. Their caravan followed a narrow road that hugged the side of a mountain, winding downward toward a green valley with a small village nestled at the bottom. They passed crowded streets with rough shanties, and then rose to the opposite side of the valley where large estates dotted the hilltops.
    When they turned into an estate enclosed by a tall, stuccoed concrete wall, she couldn’t resist gawking as the gates opened quietly by remote, and they drove into a compound with a large cobblestone courtyard. Deep red Hibiscus flowers grew in pots lining an alcove entrance. Purple bougainvillea bloomed in profusion, draping from a red-tiled roof.
    Once more, with her hand tucked into the corner of his arm, she allowed Boone to escort her inside. Cool, pine-scented air greeted her. Saltillo tiles clicked beneath her sandals. The walls were creamy beige, the furnishings heavy and dark.
    A brunette woman dressed in a crisp sleeveless white blouse and pencil-thin, charcoal-gray skirt approached. Her gray eyes swept Tilly’s frame, then she gave Boone a cool nod. “You should find everything ready, Mr. Benoit.”
    “Thanks, Beatrice. Have Alejandro and the Peterson Group reps arrived?”
    “Yes, sir. They’re in the conference room.”
    He drew in a deep breath and dropped his arm, turning to Tilly, his expression, disappointingly, all business. “Beatrice will show you to your room. If our meeting lasts past dinner, help yourself to anything in the kitchen, or pick up any phone. Someone will be there straightaway to see to your needs. If you want to swim, don’t worry if you don’t see anyone around. Security is discreet. You’ll be safe.”
    He left without a backward glance, Serge following, a finger touching a Bluetooth hooked over his ear. “The Tex-Oil point man’s arrived as well, Boone. They’re reviewing the kidnappers’ demands now.”
    Kidnappers? That’s what this was about? From her online research of his company, she knew this was one aspect of his business, but knowing and
really
knowing were two completely different things. The thought that Boone was the man companies and families turned to in such a horrible crisis left her feeling unsettled, and even a little proud. Boone wasn’t what everyone back in Bayou Vert thought. He was a man who’d made saving people his life’s work.
    When the door shut behind both men, Tilly breathed freely for the first time since Boone had stepped through her doorway. Tension drained slowly away. Oddly, his absence left a hollow feeling.
    “Mr. Benoit’s staff phoned in your particulars,” Beatrice said, her words more clipped than before. “I’ll show you to your room. Let me know if anything in the closet doesn’t fit.”
    Her particulars? What did she mean? Tilly turned her head to find Beatrice’s hard gaze staring back.
    The woman turned on her neat gray heels and led the way through a spacious living room to a long hallway with several closed doors. At the end, she opened a door and stood to the side, allowing Tilly to enter.
    Tilly wasn’t given to frills and floral, but the pale violet wallpaper with its sprigs of white flowers and green