Read The Socialite and the Bodyguard Online
Authors: Dana Marton
She was glad that they hadn’t gotten completely carried away the night before in the gym. Okay, part of her was glad. Another part of her would have loved to have finished, to have that memory. But without that, maybe, eventually she could forget him. Right. When rottweilers grew long tails with puffs on the end, got dressed up in pink tutus and danced the waltz around the show ring.
“Champagne?” Nash asked next to her.
The ballroom swirled with people, networking, dancing, celebrating the end of another successful show.
“Thank you, but no.” Two glasses were her limit these days. She needed to keep a clear head, especially now, especially with Nash.
They were the only two people left at the table. She’d sent Mike off to chat up the brunette he’d been staring at through the whole show. Somebody deserved to have a little fun. Just because she was definitely reining in her hormones, it didn’t mean everybody on her team had to be celibate.
He didn’t go far, just one table over. And she felt safe with Nash, although his nearness, his masculine scent, his steady gaze had her ready to jump out of her skin every time he turned to her with yet another question.
“Let’s dance,” she said without thinking it through, just wanting to get moving.
“I don’t dance.” He blinked. “What are you grinning at?”
“First time you admitted you can’t do something.”
“I can’t do a lot of things.”
“Such as?”
“Sing.”
“What else?”
“Can’t play any musical instruments.”
“That’s all?”
“Pretty much,” he said, deadpan.
She actually believed him. “What do you say we try widening your circle of competence tonight?”
He drew a slow breath as he considered her. And all of a sudden she itched to get him out onto the dance floor. He was tough and gruff and solid as a rock. She wanted to see what he would be like at a disadvantage, wouldn’t have minded having the upper hand just once for a change.
He rose without a word and extended his hand to her.
And drew plenty of female attention from all around the room.
She put her hand in his and came to her feet, not one hundred percent sure that she was doing the smart thing here, but going with it anyway. Too late now to turn back.
Then they were on the dance floor. He put his arms around her, keeping a respectable distance. Around them, cameras flashed. She’d already posed with people for pictures and signed autographs when they’d first come down, but seeing her on the dance floor with a gorgeous mystery man drew everyone’s attention again.
Some of those photos would be in next week’s
tabloids. She tried not to let that bother her. She needed to take it as a fact of life and move beyond.
Nash was doing some kind of a bear shuffle.
She stifled a grin. “You kind of step like this, then step like this, then do a quarter turn and repeat it again.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t look as though he thought that was going to make a difference, but gave it a try anyway. And kept trying until he got better.
“Not bad.”
Although, once he didn’t need to keep his full attention on his feet, he was giving all that attention to her. She was in his arms, their eyes—and lips—neatly lined up, thanks to her impossible heels. His amber gaze trapped her.
“Not bad,” he echoed her words and gathered her a little closer.
They danced that dance, then the next. She was growing breathless and it had nothing to do with the beauty of the music. They were so close. The look in his eyes said that if they were in private, he’d be inside her already. Her knees trembled, every cell in her body needing him.
Then that song was over and the lights went out without warning.
Nash practically wrapped his body around hers in a protective gesture. He moved them forward immediately, out of the last position where they’d been seen. She felt him reach for his gun at his back.
“When I say
now
, get down,” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.
Her blood raced. Her heart pounded in her chest. She
stayed close to his solid bulk, scared, but trusting him to take care of her. With all the uncertainty around her, he had become the one steady thing she counted on, she realized now, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
But instead of danger, another song came next, one sung by the people in the far corner then spreading through the crowd.
“Happy birthday…”
Then she saw lights, too. Flickering candles on a giant cake that was rolled into the middle of the dance floor. White frosting, decorated with chocolate paw prints going all around the layers.
“Happy birthday to Laura Wolfson, our fabulous president,” the show chair was saying.
A chorus of “Happy Birthday!” followed. People cheered.
Relief rushed through her.
Nash relaxed next to her and stashed his gun away. He didn’t release his grip on her, though. The adrenaline rush that came with expecting an attack switched back to instant heat and awareness.
The birthday girl was giving a thank-you speech as she got ready to blow out her candles. Kayla couldn’t process the words. All she could hear, think and feel was Nash.
“I forgot to tell you about this one other thing I can’t do,” he said close to her ear. “I can’t seem to resist you.”
And then he kissed her under cover of the darkness. His effect on her was instant and irresistible. She melted against him despite her best intentions. And got lost.
Her head reeled when he pulled back.
She blinked hard and forced herself to speak.
“Actually, um—I decided that whatever it is that’s going on between us, we should just ignore it.” Brave words, but her fingers were still curled around his biceps.
“Good luck with that,” he said, then kissed her again.
Already, his firm lips on hers were as familiar as if they belonged there, his hands on her, welcome. Her body went into instant meltdown. She was weak with wanting him, and he’d barely even touched her yet. They fitted together as if they’d been made for each other. As different as they were in every other area of their lives, in passion they were a perfect match.
This was where the real danger lay. Here was a man she could lose her heart to. Five years ago, she would have. She would have already been a goner by now. But she’d learned a lot as she got her heart broken a couple of times, watched her friends lose inheritances to bad decisions, as they—along with she—had been dragged through the mud in the media.
Yes, she’d learned a lot. And the number-one thing she’d learned was that people in the public eye shouldn’t give their hearts, they shouldn’t believe in romance. Because every time they did, it ended in disaster.
But to resist this man would take a lot more than smart thinking.
“Congratulations on Tsini. I still can’t believe she pulled that off,” her uncle was saying on the phone, catching her just after she got in from the airport with her staff, her luggage still in a pile in the middle of the den. He’d been in Europe on business for the last two weeks. It was the first time they’d connected since before she’d left for Vegas. “We’ll go out and celebrate when I get back.”
“That would be nice. Everything’s going well over there?” She rubbed her forehead. A low-grade headache pulsed back and forth across her head, from temple to temple.
“A couple of meetings left.” He was negotiating a deal to use Landon’s Popcorn exclusively in the largest movie-theater chain in the European Union, a major coup that would mark the company’s most significant overseas deal to date.
Kayla’s grandfather had started the company then left it to his two sons, Kayla’s father, William, and her uncle, Albert. Those two took a flourishing small company and turned it into a multimillion-dollar global business.
Uncle Al had no children. William had been preparing his eldest son, Lance, to succeed him at the helm. But Lance had died a year after their father. And if they wanted to keep the company in family hands, the three remaining members had to step up to the plate.
“Pretty soon, our popcorn will be winning over movie audiences all over Europe.” Her uncle sounded pleased with himself.
“And once people taste it at the movies, they’ll want it at home,” she responded. Movie-theater popcorn was their spearhead into new markets, but since seventy percent of popcorn was consumed at home, the real goal was to seduce that segment to their brand.
“But to get that, we need a bigger presence here. European headquarters. We’ll need a VP of European Operations. I was thinking of you. Something else to talk about when I get back.”
She was too stunned to respond. Vice President. The acknowledgment and responsibility her father hadn’t been willing to give to her. In Europe, though. She’d have to move. She wasn’t sure how Greg would take that. She would definitely have to give the idea a lot of thought before she made her decision.
“Can’t wait for you to get back,” she told her uncle.
“How is that new bodyguard working out?”
“Good.” The less said about the subject, the less chance that she would betray her attraction toward the man.
“From what I hear, Welkins doesn’t have bad people. You just pay attention to what his man says.”
She hadn’t mentioned the elevator incident. There’d be time for that when Al came back. No one but the police
knew that she’d been in the elevator that had crashed. Nash had made sure they hadn’t released that bit of news. She wanted to keep out of the spotlight as much as possible, and he did everything in his power to help her.
He’d saved her life by figuring out a way for her to get out of the elevator.
He’d nearly made love to her in that shower.
He was leaving.
“I only hired extra protection for the four days of the dog show. No one came near Tsini. His assignment is up tonight.” Even saying those words hurt.
“Don’t be foolish, Kayla. Those two bodyguards of yours…They’re fine young men, but you need Welkins’s guy.”
In more ways than her uncle knew. In fact, she’d been thinking about extending Nash’s assignment the whole plane ride home. She’d also reconsidered a brief, no-one-needs-to-know affair with him.
Now that they were back in Philly and not in the difficult-to-control environment of the Vegas Dog Show, she was sure Nash would relax at last. He’d probably make more of an effort to fit into her team. Life would be much calmer. And yet it would remain plenty interesting. In a manageable way. This was her home. She definitely had the upper hand here. He would understand that and wouldn’t try to ride roughshod over her the way he’d done in Vegas.
She was still on leave from work for another week.
A week with Nash.
All she had to do was think that and her pitiful body buzzed with excitement.
“All right, sweetheart, I have to leave the hotel to get to my next meeting in time,” her uncle was saying. “Hang in there. I’ll be home in another day. Keep an eye on the company.”
“I could do that better if I went back to the office.” Uncle Al had been the one who had suggested she take a couple of weeks off after she’d gotten that package with the blue fur coat.
“You rest for a while,” he told her. “You deserve it. I’ll be back tomorrow. I can take care of whatever needs to be taken care of at work.”
She hung up the phone just as Dave ambled in. “When’s GI Joe leaving?”
Nash was checking her home security to make sure nothing had been tampered with while they were gone. He really did take his job seriously.
“I think I’m going to ask him to stay on for a little longer.”
The look of disappointment on Dave’s face was immediate and undisguised. “I don’t like him,” he said, in case she missed it. “Mike and I can handle everything.” He pulled a piece of folded paper from his pocket.
She looked at the circle in the middle with a list of names inside.
“What’s this?”
“The people closest to you who could be affected if there’s any sort of attempt. These are the people who need to be protected.” His index finger brushed over the names: Kayla, Greg, Uncle Al, Elvis, Ivan, Fisk and the rest of her staff, including her secretary.
Tom wasn’t on the list. He’d already taken off as
soon as he’d brought up Tsini’s crate. He was on staff only during shows and sometimes when Kayla traveled. Right on the circle, as if they were the protective circle themselves, were written two words:
Dave
and
Mike
.
She gave Dave a grateful smile, appreciating the sentiment.
“We don’t need him.” Dave gestured toward Nash with his head. “We’re like family around here. Nobody except Nash thinks that the photo to your e-mail came from one of the staff. And none of us knew that dead guy in Vegas whose picture Nash was showing around. The cops said the whole elevator thing was an accident. You ask me, he came in with those wild accusations to bust up the team and take over.”
“He’ll make more of an effort to fit in to the team now that we’re back here safely,” she reassured Dave.
Nash walked by, hustling off to whatever task he was on to next and glanced at the list. “List of suspects?”
She looked up too fast and her headache intensified to a pulsing stream of pain behind her eyelids. He was gone by the time she could respond. She pushed off the couch and thanked Dave for the talk. “I’m going to lie down for a quick nap.”
She took the paper with her without meaning to, just forgot to give it back, and looked at it again as she took some aspirin. She fell asleep with nothing but questions on her mind. Who was outside the circle? Who hunted her and her family?
She had strange dreams about Nash and her uncle, dreams that left her uneasy, although when she woke, she couldn’t quite recall them. At least the headache was gone.
Nash was working on his laptop when she came out of her bedroom. His head came up. He was all graceful power as he sat there, a warrior at rest. Heat came into his gaze as he looked her over. Predictably, every cell in her body responded.
Maybe soon
, she promised herself. But first she needed to ask him to stay on. Should have done that before she’d said anything to Dave, but she hadn’t been able to think, thanks to that damned headache.
“I’ll call Welkins in a minute, but I want to tell you first. I’m going to extend your assignment. I mean, if you’re willing to stay on longer.” Wasn’t exactly the way she’d meant to tell him, but she was too frazzled to do better. She just hoped he couldn’t read her ulterior motives in her face.
A quick emotion flashed across his eyes, but it was gone before she could decipher it.
“Head of security. Carte blanche,” he said, his attention focused completely on her.
So much for him “mellowing” now that the dog show was behind them and Tsini and Greg and she were safely back home.
She didn’t want to talk strategy with him. She wanted his arms around her so badly that she ached with it. She was still fuzzy from sleep. She didn’t have it in her to fight him, so she simply nodded.
She had a glass of juice in the kitchen then jumped off the barstool when she noticed the time. Her yoga instructor would arrive any minute. She washed her face and changed, and by the time she was coming out of the bedroom again, Ilona was there.
Nash checked her out thoroughly, including her bag. Then he insisted that they leave the door to the meditation room at the end of the long hall half-open.
“Everything okay?” Ilona asked as they were getting ready to start. “What’s up with Mr. Hot-’n’-Protective out there?” She was twenty-two with the body of a—well, a yoga instructor. Dave and Mike got a lot of mileage out of flirting with her.
“Don’t mind Nash. New security.” Kayla stretched.
“Believe me, I don’t mind him at all.” Ilona’s eyes twinkled as she gave a small laugh. “Sadly, I think he’s only got eyes for you. All right, deep breath in,” she started. And for the next hour, they went through their regular poses while Kayla wondered if Ilona could be right.
Was that pitiful? She did want Nash to have eyes only for her. But she was realistic enough to realize that at best he wanted only a quick, hot affair. And she wanted him so much that she’d take whatever he had to offer.
By the time Ilona left, Dave and Mike had gone off somewhere, and only Nash was left, sitting in the kitchen. Kayla was sweaty so she didn’t stop to chat. She let Nash walk Ilona out while she hopped in the shower.
Then she was ready to see about dinner. When she was in residence, dinner was delivered from her favorite restaurant down the road every night at seven for her and her staff. She liked cooking, often put breakfast together for herself and Greg during the week and even lunch on the weekends. But during the week she usually ate lunch at company headquarters where she worked, more often than not having a lunchtime meeting. And her evenings
were usually busy with social engagements. There was little time left for dinner preparations.
Dave usually called in how many people they had on any given night. TJ, the manager at the restaurant, knew what she liked and he kept the menu varied.
Except there was no sign of dinner tonight and no sign of Dave. Or Mike for that matter. Two strange men sat in her kitchen with Nash. She watched them for a second, staying in the cover of the potted palms. Friends of Nash, that was obvious from the familiar way they were talking, understanding each other from halfwords and looks. They were built like Nash, too, bringing some serious testosterone overload to the room. One had multiple scars crossing his left eyebrow. Another sported a nose that had been flattened pretty badly at one point.
In size alone, they were smaller than Mike and Dave, but looked ten times as tough and menacing. These were no gentlemen bodyguards who would put on a tux to take her to events. They looked like they’d been born in combat boots and were damned determined to die in them. She wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with these two in her home. And frankly, she didn’t think it terribly professional for Nash to bring his friends by for a visit while on the job.
She wanted fewer people in the apartment with them tonight, not more. She was going to ask him into her room after dinner to discuss his role on her team. And if he kissed her again…She didn’t plan on putting up too much resistance.
Just thinking of him kissing her sent tingles through her body. She wanted him. He wanted her. For once, she wasn’t going to overcomplicate things.
“Hi.” She stepped into view at last.
Nobody seemed surprised by her sudden appearance, almost as if they’d known that she’d been standing back there. Creepy.
“Hey.” Nash turned to her. “Meet you new bodyguards. Mo and Joey.”
It took her a minute to comprehend what he was saying. This was really bad. She’d known she was going to regret that “carte blanche” comment. Mike and Dave were absolutely going to hate this.
She
hated it. Lust gave way to outrage. Of all the underhanded…
Keep calm
. There had to be some sort of an explanation, a compromise they could come to.
“Where are Mike and Dave?” She needed to prepare them before they met Nash’s men.
“They’re gone,” Nash said easily. “I fired them.”
N
ASH SAT
calmly while Kayla yelled at him, completely flying off the handle. Pretty much what he’d expected.
“You can’t fire them. They’re my people! You had no right whatsoever.” Her face was turning an interesting shade of red.
Couldn’t say it made her less attractive. He didn’t mind a bit of fire in a woman.
“They were clueless. They were looking for some phantom outside enemy. They were more of a liability than a help. I need people I can trust backing me up. Mo and Joey are up to the task.”
Mike and Dave hadn’t been bad. He’d especially appreciated Mike’s help with that elevator. But they weren’t Mo and Joey. And he needed Mo and Joey. For
Kayla, nothing less would do. He wasn’t about to take any chances with her life.
For all he cared, Mike and Dave could have stayed on, but they’d already proven that they didn’t take orders well. Getting used to him had taken them days. Nash didn’t have days now. He didn’t have the time to deal with friction and possible insubordination, not when the attacks on Kayla were intensifying.
Threatening her dog was one thing. But someone had been in her bedroom in Vegas. Then the John Doe the police still hadn’t identified had tried to kill her in that elevator. And every instinct Nash had said it wasn’t over yet.
“You—” She took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes, looking as though she was about to send him to hell. Then she changed her mind, spun on her heels, strode back to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her so hard it reverberated throughout the penthouse.
A moment of silence passed after that as the three men exchanged a look over the kitchen counter.
“She hates your guts,” Joey remarked, not the least perturbed by this display of feminine emotion. He had a known weakness for temperamental women.
Nash shot him a warning, proprietary look.
Joey gave a lopsided smile. “You like the girl.”
Mo’s half-missing eyebrow went up. “You’re so doomed, man.”
Joey stood, playing off him. “We should go. He’s going down. I don’t want to be witness to that carnage.”
“Sit down,” Nash snapped at him. “I don’t
like
her. Where are we? Kindergarten?”