The two-dozen lilies Sam had sent filled the air with a sweet fragrance. When they’d arrived, Rosie had fingered the handwritten card that came with them. The practical side of her said she should keep it should she need proof if she filed a lawsuit for sexual harassment. Her romantic side urged her to tuck the card away in a favorite novel, along with one of the blooms. She’d split the difference and tucked it into the forensics book she’d brought with her in case she found herself with nothing to do.
“Hey, Rosie?” Kris called through the closed bedroom door. “Sam’s ready to go and Scott’s waiting in the limo out front.”
“Thanks, Kris, I’ll be right there.” A quick check in the mirror confirmed she was presentable. At least her make-up covered the dark circles left from not sleeping the night before. A night spent staring at the ceiling remembering every touch of Sam’s lips and fingers. She glared at the bed as if it were responsible for her fantasies of him being beside her, over her, in her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at her reflection again. Why couldn’t this have been a casual event where she could have worn her gun and bulletproof vest beneath a jacket? But no, of course tonight’s fundraiser was black tie and all the women attending would be wearing designer dresses. She’d tried to convince Chad that she shouldn’t try to blend in, but let everyone know she was there as Sam’s guard.
He hadn’t bought it, of course. Instead he’d made a phone call, and two hours later, she was the proud owner of a stunning apricot off-the-shoulder Valentino courtesy of Hauberk Protection. Between the sleek design that highlighted the smooth skin of her neck and her cleavage, and the shimmering skirt with its slit high up on her thigh, she felt as if she were on a red carpet runway. She swished this way and that letting the silky fabric swirl around her legs while telling herself she was simply ensuring that the thigh concealment holster wasn’t visible.
Satisfied with her reflection, and feeling somewhat a fraud, she opened the door.
Kris wolf whistled. “Whoa momma, that dress is hot.” He made a little circle in the air with his finger. “Come on, baby, shake your moneymaker for me.”
“Bite me.” But she gave Kris an appreciative glance of her own. He’d left the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, the V exposing a tantalizing glimpse of the hair matting his chest above the beige bulletproof vest. Pity she didn’t go for hairy guys. She rethought her preferences when he moved from the doorway and his black pants hugged his ass. If she knew how to wolf whistle, that ass deserved one.
Andy snickered under his breath. Damn, he’d caught her ogling Kris. “Don’t forget your tie, Skippy.”
Kris rolled his eyes. “It’s in my pocket. I’ll put it on in the limo. You ready, Rosie?”
At her nod, Kris knocked on Sam’s door while Rosie teetered her way toward the elevator and inserted the key to bring it straight to the penthouse. If it came down to a footrace, she’d have to kick off the four-inch stilettos the store had sent to accompany the dress. She’d never be able to justify spending her paycheck on a pair of Mahnolo Blahniks, but now she had them on, she was in love.
Of course the sparkly triple teardrop diamond earrings and matching pendant Sam had sent over had to go back at night’s end. He’d probably convinced some jeweler to loan them to him for the night the way the stars did for the Oscars. She had to admit, although she’d initially thought all the bling overkill, once she’d put on the dress, the diamonds made the outfit. It wasn’t as if the earrings, pendant or even the tennis bracelet dangling on her wrist would stop her from pulling her gun. Same with the touch of perfume she’d dabbed behind her ears. They were simply window dressing, letting her fit in with his crowd.
Before Kris could knock on Sam’s door, it opened and Sam filled the doorway. When their eyes met, a snapping electrical current snaked between them, bound them for a long minute. Kris and his excellent ass disappeared. All she could see was Sam in his crisp white silk shirt, magnificent black tux and shiny Guccis.
Accompanying him tonight, especially wearing a dress that let her feel so feminine, was a bad idea on so many levels.
“Evenin’, Ms. Ramos.” His smooth southern accent washed over her in an intimate caress.
“Mr. Watson.” While she congratulated herself on her cool neutral tone, she wondered if he could see how hard her nipples were beneath the thin fabric of her dress. Could he smell her arousal or sense how wet she was getting watching him stroll down the hallway toward her? She had to pinch the inside of her forearm to remind herself that she was supposed to be guarding him, protecting him from whoever might want to harm him, not indulge in her own sexual fantasies.
When she followed the two men into the elevator, she concentrated on her reflection in the shiny metal of the elevator doors, working hard not to reveal how turned on she was getting just by his fragrance. What was that cologne he wore? Whatever it was, it permeated all her senses and left her knees weak.
It took every ounce of control not to wrap her arms about his waist and bury her nose into his chest. As the elevator descended, she let her eyes drop, glancing askance at his hand hanging casually at his side. His thumb fiddled with a gold band he wore on his pinkie, twisting it this way and that. Remembered those long talented fingers as they’d thrust into her until she’d seen stars.
Sam shifted, his arm grazing her breast. When she looked up, she realized he was using the metal in the doors to watch her. The edges of his lips curled up as their eyes met.
Before she could look away, Kris stepped between her and the reflection and the elevator glided to a stop. The doors opened and Kris scanned the foyer before allowing them to exit.
“Evenin’, Max. You workin’ late tonight?” Sam shrugged on the jacket he’d folded over his arm. Damn, none of the men tonight could match him, Rosie decided, watching the wool hug his shoulders. And though Kris’s ass was damned good-looking, Sam’s eclipsed it. She stifled a giggle. Could one moon eclipse another?
Max placed a slip of paper in the book he was reading and closed it. “Yes, sir, Mr. Watson. With Mr. Miller wanting two people to guard the desk now, they were a man short, so I volunteered.”
“How’s your son doin’?”
A pained expression flickered across Max’s face. “They measured him for a new leg yesterday. They say he’ll be able to walk without a limp with the prosthetics they have these days. But it’s…” Max cleared his throat. “He’s doing a lot better knowing Cindy and little Max are taken care of.”
Sam nodded. “Glad to hear it. You be sure to let me know if they need anything more, okay?”
“I sure will, Mr. Watson. And thanks again.”
She followed Sam out the door, scanning the street as he climbed into the limo. Kris held the door open for her, waiting until she’d sat in the seat facing Sam. She’d deliberately chosen not to sit beside him, but now regretted it. Having to face him was worse. She looked out the back window for a tail as the limo pulled into traffic.
“What happened to Max’s son?” she asked two blocks later.
“His Humvee was hit by a remote controlled IED in Iraq. Took off his left leg below the knee.”
From the sounds of it, Sam had taken care of his family-probably monetarily, but Rosie would have bet he’d arranged a lot more. Flights, daycare, housing. Anything they’d needed that they couldn’t get through the Armed Forces.
Damn, why couldn’t he be a sonovabitch she could despise?
Another block passed before Sam broke the silence. “You didn’t come to my office today.”
“There wasn’t a need.” She’d made sure to stay away from it, especially after Sandy had given her the cold shoulder.
“From the way you’re avoiding looking at me, I’d say there was. You wanna take a kick at me or something?” He glanced down at her feet. Did he realize she’d raced out and had a pedicure-something she seldom indulged in? “Those stilettos look like they’re plenty sharp enough to do some damage.”
She crossed her feet at the ankles, shifting them to the side as she told herself to ignore the silly thrill that he’d noticed her shoes. “They aren’t very practical, but my cross-trainers wouldn’t have gone with the dress.”
Sam pulled a cigar from his pocket, looked at it and then stuck it back in its place. “I wanted to apologize for my actions last night, Rosie. I can only plead temporary insanity and throw myself upon your mercy.”
“Thank you.” She tucked an errant hair behind her ear, then clasped her hands together in her lap when she remembered how Chad had said the night before about her putting out non-verbal signals.
Sam stretched his arm across the back of the seat. “But I meant what I said last night, Rosie. I would like to get to know you better.”
“Considering I’m in charge of your protection, I think it would be inappropriate for us to pursue any sort of relationship.” Damn it, why couldn’t he have said this three months ago?
His brows together in a dark slash. “You’re not the only one guarding me. Walters, Campbell and Phillips won’t drop the ball.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I promise I won’t force you to do anything, Rosie. How our relationship progresses will be entirely up to you. But you can’t deny there were sparks between us last night. Just give me a chance to prove myself.”
Should she give him a chance to fan the flames that threatened to ignite into a wildfire? But when he walked away, and he would when the fire burned out, she’d be a pile of ashes. “I’ll think about it.” Three more blocks passed before she broke the silence. “I never thanked you for arranging the loan of the jewelry.”
“It looks good on you.” He settled back in the seat and folded his arms over his chest as his eyes flicked down her, lingering on her cleavage.
It was possible he was examining the necklace, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t his main focus. That knowledge and the heat in his expression, sent a hot shiver in a slow crawl up across her breasts until they ached.
“That dress certainly highlights all your…attributes.”
The air thickened until she felt like she was six feet underwater. Her hand smoothed her skirt over her knees. “I feel like a fairy princess, though I don’t know how much use I’ll be protecting you tonight without a vest. You’re wearing one under your shirt, right?”
He leaned so close the tendril of hair that had sprung free fluttered over her ear when he spoke. “I have the feelin’ I’m gonna need to be keepin’ the men away from you tonight, Rosie. You’re so beautiful-no man in their right mind could fail to notice you. But then again, nothin’ would look beautiful on you.”
Rosie searched for some way to answer his double entendre. Eventually she gave up and settled for staring out the window, watching the lights and buildings as the car climbed the ramp onto the beltway. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore his blatant examination.
Not once the rest of the ride did he take his eyes off her. By the time the limo pulled up in front of the hotel, she felt like a bug under a microscope. Or the proverbial mouse trapped between the cat’s paws. Only this cat was a tiger. A tiger with long fingers that had caressed her with an unrivalled skill and full lips that she wanted tasting her. Everywhere. And somehow she didn’t think real tigers sported such impressive erections.