Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1) (10 page)

He shrugged. “It was necessary. You do what you have to do in a war situation.”

Beth leaned back in her seat, shaking her head. “I can’t even imagine doing something like that.”

“Now it’s my turn,” Shane said. “I get to ask you a question. And it’s an easy one, I promise.”

“Okay.” But she looked less than eager.

“You’re... how old? Early twenties?”

She nodded. “Twenty-four.”

He picked up another chip. “I’m thirty-four. Do you have anything against dating older men?”

Her grin faded, and for a moment he regretted bringing up the difference in their ages. It didn’t matter one bit to him, but maybe it did matter to her.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” she said. “But my brother will. Our father died when I was a baby, and my brother – Tyler – sort of assumed his role. He won’t approve of me seeing you. I might as well warn you now.”

Shane sighed. He hated putting her in that kind of position. “Beth, you’re an adult,” he said gently.

“I know, but... there are extenuating circumstances.” She looked down at the table top, her finger absently tracing the patterns in the wrought iron swirls. “I have... issues... that affect my life. He worries about me.”

Shane reached for her hand. “You do seem a little shy. Very shy, in fact,” he said. “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”

Luis returned to their table to deliver their drinks. Beth took a wary sip of her slushy red concoction and smiled.

“Do you like it?” Shane asked, watching her reaction.

She took another sip and nodded. When she licked the sugar crystals on the rim of the glass, Shane’s jaw clenched.

“Are
you
dating anyone?” he asked, because she’d expect him to ask. He knew damn well she wasn’t.

She shook her head as she sipped her drink, trying not to laugh. If he only knew how ridiculous his question was. “No.”

Shane put down his Corona, and his gaze turned hot and direct. “I want to see you again, Beth.”

She took a big swallow of her daiquiri to mask her reaction to his blunt question. Was he talking about dating, or just hooking up? She forced herself to ask the question. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes.”

She stared down at her glass, surprised to find it was nearly empty. She desperately wanted to say “yes” to him, but it was hard for her to trust people. She knew so little about him, and more importantly he knew so little about her. He probably thought she was like any other girl, carefree, adventurous, sometimes a little reckless. She was anything but.

The alcohol she’d drunk had hit her system now, and it made her feel a little loose – but not nearly loose enough to get through this conversation.

He frowned, and she thought for sure he was reading her mind. If he could read her mind, he’d most likely change his.

“Beth, I realize we just met – ”

“Yes!” Oh, my God, she said it.

His brows lifted in surprise, as if he’d been expecting her to say no. “Yes?”

“Yes.” She held up her empty glass. “I think I’ll have a refill.”

Shane chuckled and shook his head. “I think one’s enough for tonight, don’t you? Especially if you’re not going to eat anything. I don’t want you to lose your head and blame it on the alcohol tomorrow.”

Lose her head? Over what?
What was he expecting to happen tonight? When he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, she felt a jolt of electricity shoot up her arm.

“This place will be closing up soon,” he said, checking his watch. “Would you like to come back to my apartment for a little while? It’s not far from here. We could talk, get to know more about each other. And when you’re ready to go, I’ll drive you home.”

The idea of going to his apartment set off all of her alarm bells, and her heart started racing. Could she really do that? Go to his place? Go home with a practical stranger? She knew so little about him.

“Beth?”

She looked at him. “Hmm?”

“Would you like to come over for a while?”

Was she actually considering going to his apartment, or was it the daiquiri talking? Was she really ready for this? Her friends did this sort of thing all the time. Gabrielle would do it. And technically, wasn’t this their second date? Did that make it all right?

Shane squeezed her hand. “You can say no, sweetheart. If it’s too soon, you can say no.”

She swallowed hard as her pulse beat wildly.

He smiled ruefully. “How about if I just drive you home instead?”

Part of her was relieved by the reprieve he was offering. But at the same time, she was tired of being alone. She really did want to try. The thought of going home alone tonight and lying in bed wishing things were different was depressing. And as for Shane? He’d always been a gentleman. He’d never done or said anything inappropriate. And my god, she wanted him.

She frowned. “Why did you change your mind?”

“Because I saw the panic on your face,” he said. “The last thing I want to do is scare you off, Beth.”

“Well, maybe I do want to go to your apartment.”

He looked rather skeptical. “You do?”

Beth shrugged. “Sure. For a little while.” She could do this.

Shane stood and held out his hand to Beth. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

Chapter 9

After Shane paid the bill, they left the restaurant and headed for the parking garage two blocks away. It was half past eleven now, and the pedestrian traffic had thinned out considerably.

Shane opened the front passenger door of his silver Jaguar for Beth, and she slipped inside. He leaned in to latch her seatbelt, just like he’d done the night she got into the cab.

“I can do that myself, you know,” she said, grinning as he adjusted the fit of her seatbelt.

He grinned back at her. “I know.” And then he gave her a quick kiss on the lips before shutting her door.

Beth sat in stunned silence as Shane walked around to the driver’s side. She could still feel his soft, warm lips on hers. Even though it had a been nothing more than a peck, so light and quick it had ended almost as soon as it had begun, her lips tingled. She touched her fingertips to her mouth and smiled.

“I thought I’d get that out of the way,” he said, as he latched his own seat belt. His gaze was hot. “Now you don’t have to worry about when it’s coming. We’ve already done it. The next time we kiss, we’ll be old pros at it.”

The city was lit with millions of sparkling lights that flashed by in a colorful blur as they headed north on Lake Shore Drive. The city was on their left, and Lake Michigan was on the right – a massive body of water that stretched as far as the eye could see. The lake was a beautiful sight at night, moonlight shimmering on the glassy black surface of the water.

“Where’s your apartment?” Beth said.

“In the Gold Coast, right on Lake Shore Drive.”

Gold Coast? She’d never been to the Gold Coast before – it was way too rich for her blood.

Beth glanced at Shane’s profile and reminded herself that she was probably just one in a long line of women he’d taken back to his apartment.
Don’t read too much into this.
People did this sort of thing all the time; it’s no big deal.

“You okay?” Shane said, glancing at her.

She smiled at him. “Sure. Fine.” But with each passing minute, she felt less and less fine.

She pulled out her phone. “I’d better let my roommate know where I’m going. If I’m out later than usual, she’ll worry.” She typed out a quick message to Gabrielle.

Met up w/Shane downtown. Going to his apt in Gold Coast. Don’t worry.

And then she hit Send before she could change her mind. If she was going to do something this crazy, she should at least let someone know where she was going.

Her phone chimed almost immediately with a reply:
How the hell did u run into him AGAIN?!?

She winced when she read the message. Gabrielle could be as bad as Tyler sometimes.

Shane glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “Was that from your roommate?”

“Yes.”

She keyed in a quick reply to Gabrielle:
He was at Clancy’s.

And then she stowed her phone in her purse.

She snuck a quick glance at Shane sitting relaxed behind the wheel. His left hand was on the steering wheel, and his right one rested on the gear shift, just inches away from hers. She studied those long fingers, imagining what they would feel like on her body, touching her, stroking her. It had been so long since anyone had touched her that she’d forgotten what it was like. She sighed.

Shane handed her his phone. “You have my number. Do you mind giving me yours?”

With each exchange of personal information, she felt like she was sinking deeper and deeper into whatever it was they were doing. And she wasn’t even sure what it was they were doing. What did her want from her, besides the obvious? Was it just sex? She didn’t think he could possibly be interested in anything more serious.

They had the same brand of phone, so she quickly keyed in her number and added it to his contact list before she could change her mind. Then she handed his phone back.

Shane reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. She marveled at how much larger his hand was compared to hers. She’d never realized how sexy a man’s hand could be. A sudden image of his broad hand stroking her bare skin flashed through her mind, taking her off guard and making her catch her breath.

His hands were no stranger to hard work, she realized, noticing numerous nicks and scars on the back of the one she was holding, especially along the knuckles. He’d clearly been involved in more than one brawl.

With her index finger, she traced a scar that started on the back of his right hand and extended past his wrist and up onto his forearm. “How did you get this?”

“It’s a souvenir from Afghanistan,” he said.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked, skimming her finger along the pale, jagged scar.

His hand squeezed hers tightly in response to her soft touch. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said. “Mostly, it’s numb along the scar because of nerve damage.”

As Shane turned into a circular drive, Beth looked up at the modern glass and steel apartment building that towered above Lake Shore Drive. Judging by its impressive exterior and prime location, she figured it had to be one of the most prestigious properties in the Gold Coast – probably in all of Chicago.

Shane pulled into an underground garage, stopping at an electronic gate to enter an access code to gain entrance. He parked near the bank of elevators in a slot marked PRIVATE.

As he reached over to release her seatbelt, a curious feeling came over her, as if a gentle wave of well-being flowed through her. She hardly knew this man, and yet he made her feel
safe
.

Shane reached over to touch the tendrils of her hair that had escaped her ponytail, letting the strands slide through his fingers. “Everything okay?”

She nodded. “Fine.”

“I’ll get your door,” he said.

They walked hand-in-hand through the cool, well-lit garage to a bank of elevators. Shane walked up to the last elevator, which was marked PRIVATE, and punched a code into an electronic keypad. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside the car. He punched another code into yet another keypad inside the car.

“Why is this elevator private?”

“Because it’s only used by the occupants of the penthouse apartment,” he said, as they began ascending.

He owns the penthouse
. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how much that cost. She’d heard stories about the price tags on apartments like this – they were astronomical, to say the least, certainly in the millions of dollars. Apparently the security business paid pretty well.

Her eyes scanned the interior of the elevator – it was certainly the nicest elevator she’d ever been in. Three of the walls were brushed steel, and the fourth was a floor-to-ceiling mirror set in a gold frame. Gold light fixtures adorned the walls, and there were two security cameras positioned overhead.

She glanced at the mirrored wall and was startled by their reflections. Shane was an imposing figure who undoubtedly turned heads wherever he went. When she caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror, she inwardly cringed. She was hardly the kind of woman one would expect to see standing next to Shane.

She wasn’t one of those glamour types. And while Shane might look at home on the cover of GQ, she certainly didn’t look like she belonged on any magazine cover – unless it was
Mother Jones
. While her hair was probably her best feature, it looked a little worse for wear at the moment, strands of it having come loose from her ponytail. She looked like the farmer’s daughter gone wild. Her sundress was wrinkled after a long day at work, and her sandals had certainly seen better days. With no make-up on, she looked pale and rumpled next to Shane, and she couldn’t help wondering why she was even here.

Her heart rate kicked into instant overdrive, and the alarm bells started to peal loudly in her head. Her chest tightened painfully and the air seemed thin in the confines of the elevator. Without much warning, she was well on her way to a full-blown panic attack, and being inside a small, enclosed space wasn’t helping.

The elevator came to a gliding stop, and the doors opened to an elegantly appointed foyer. Shane took Beth’s hand and started forward, but she didn’t budge.

He stopped and looked back. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The expression on her face must have told him plenty, because he stepped back into the elevator car and pressed a button on the control panel. The elevator doors remained open.

Shane’s hands settled on her shoulders and he peered down into her face. “What is it, Beth?”

She was in way over her head, and she started shaking, her breaths fast and shallow. She couldn’t breathe. She needed her inhaler. She needed to leave, now! It had been foolish to even think she could do this.