Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1) (35 page)

She watched from the doorway as he quickly stripped off his jeans, t-shirt, and socks. The sight of him standing there in his black boxers, lean and long-limbed, took her breath away. She took such delight in looking at his body, a finely-chiseled assemblage of muscles and bones and powerful sinew. As she studied him, his penis roused to attention, lengthening and thickening within the confines of his boxers.

Shane glanced down at his burgeoning erection and shrugged. “I can’t help that,” he said. “Not if you’re going to stand there staring at me.”

Beth’s face flushed hotly, and she looked away, busying herself studying his array of dark suits, mostly in shades of gray and charcoal.

Shane went to her and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. “I like it when you look at me,” he said, his gaze burning hers. “Don’t stop.” He drew her close for a kiss. When she moaned, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hungrily.

At the sharp rapping on Shane’s bedroom door, they broke apart.

“Fifteen minute warning!” Cooper yelled through the door. “How long does it take two people to change clothes?”

Shane chuckled as he released her. He dressed quickly in a freshly pressed white dress shirt, a charcoal gray cumberbund and matching bow tie, and a black tuxedo coat and trousers. “With ten minutes to spare,” he said, checking his watch. “How do I look?”

“Edible,” Beth said, feeling weak in the knees. Right now all she could think about was unwrapping that beautiful package.

Cooper leaned against a black Mercedes-Benz sedan parked in the circular drive outside the apartment lobby. He was dressed in all black, jeans and a button-up shirt, but now he wore a black leather jacket, which Beth assumed was necessary to conceal the gun strapped to his chest.

“You’re late,” Cooper said as he straightened. But the grin on his face belied his gruff tone.

Shane checked his watch. “We’re right on time.”

Cooper looked at Beth. “You look gorgeous, young lady.”

“Thanks, Cooper.”

“Stop flirting with my date,” Shane said, as he opened the rear passenger door for Beth.

She scooted inside the vehicle, and Shane slid in beside her.

Beth laid her purse on her lap, her fingers nervously fiddling with it.

“You have your inhaler?” he said, nodding at her purse.

“Yes. I’m ready for anything.”

When they arrived at the hotel, Cooper joined the queue of cars waiting to approach the front entrance.

“Don’t go far,” Shane told him, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m not sure how long we’re staying.”

Cooper glanced at Beth, then at Shane, and nodded. “Call when you’re ready,” he said. “I’ll be here.”

A hotel usher opened the rear passenger door, and Shane stepped out of the car. He turned to help Beth out.

The hotel entrance was lit up, as was the front walk where a line had formed. The event organizers had spared no expense. A red carpet led from the curb to the entrance. The walkway was roped off and numerous reporters and photographers stood outside the red velvet ropes, snapping photos and soliciting statements from the guests. Couples strolled through a veritable gauntlet of photographers rapidly firing off shots. A male photographer stepped up to the rope and snapped a candid shot of Shane and Beth. She flinched at the bright flash.

Shane tucked Beth’s hand into the crook of his elbow and gave the photographer a quelling look. The photographer smiled apologetically and shrugged before moving on to the next couple.

Shane leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Are you doing okay?”

She nodded, despite the fact that she had a death grip on his arm, and her heart was beating so hard she could feel it against her ribs. The crowd outside the hotel was growing quickly as more and more couples arrived. Camera flashes were going off left and right and reporters were shouting to be heard over the growing din.

She felt Shane’s lips at her ear once more.

“Any time you want to leave, just tell me.”

She glanced at Shane, so very debonair in his black tux. The photographers seemed to follow his every move, taking shot after shot of him. He took all the attention in stride, seemingly unfazed by the scrutiny. He answered the questions of a few of the reporters, smiling congenially.

He attended this event every year, and she was sure he’d never doubted that he’d make it through the evening before tonight. His previous dates had probably relished all the attention. She was a huge inconvenience to him, and the least she could do was suck it up and pretend she was having a good time.

“Mr. McIntyre!” yelled one of the reporters. “Who’s your date?”

Shane glared at the reporter. Then he said, “She’s a friend.”

A friend? Shane McIntyre and friend.
For some reason, that cut right through Beth. She certainly hadn’t expected him to announce to all and sundry that they were dating, but she’d never expected him to withhold her name. Not that she wanted her name plastered all over the newspapers and Internet... she didn’t. But still, it hurt. Maybe she had been reading too much into his attention all along, or maybe he was starting to rethink his interest in her.

Shane didn’t miss the flash of hurt on Beth’s face when he withheld her name from the inquisitive reporter. But there was no way in hell he wanted her name plastered all over the Chicago newspapers and websites the following morning. The media tended to jump all over his dates like sharks at a chumfest, and most of them loved the attention and ate it up. But Beth wouldn’t appreciate being the center of attention like that, and he sure as hell didn’t want to make it easier for Kline to glean more information on Beth.

He’d hurt her, and he couldn’t explain why. Still, he felt compelled to say something. He reached for her hand. “I was protecting your privacy, Beth.”

She smiled at him. “It’s fine,” she said. “You don’t have to explain.”

Fuck.

They finally made their way into the crowded hotel lobby where dozens of couples milled around, most of them middle-aged and older. She tried not to stare at the ostentatious displays of diamonds and pearls.

Shane directed her to a reception table in front of the ballroom entrance.

“Shane!” A tiny woman with a cloud of short, white curls on her head reached out and grabbed Shane’s hand, squeezing it hard. “It’s so good to see you, dear!”

“Hi, Dottie,” Shane said, smiling at the woman as he pressed a kiss to her soft, wrinkled cheek. “Dottie Patterson, may I present my girlfriend, Beth Jamison.”

“Girlfriend!” Dottie cried, clasping her thin bony hands in delight. “Good Lord, I can’t believe it.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Beth said, smiling to mask her confusion. One minute she was
a friend
, and now she was his girlfriend again.

Dottie cast her pale blue eyes on Beth and smiled with approval. “I thought he’d never settled down.”

“Dottie’s husband is a retired pediatric cardiologist. He and my father worked closely together for decades.” Shane smiled down at the woman with genuine affection. “Dottie, where’s Gene?”

“Oh, he’s running around here somewhere,” Dottie said, in a tremulous voice. “When I see him, I’ll tell him you’re here. I know he’ll want to see you, dear.”

Inside the ballroom, magnificent crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and in the center of the room stood dozens of large round tables covered with white damask tablecloths. The tables were set with fine crystal and silver place settings. At one end of the ballroom was a stage where several chairs were placed behind a podium. A bar, orchestra, and dance floor were at the other end. Many of the male guests were already in line at the bar, while the women were scattered in small groups at the edge of the dance floor. Servers dressed in black pants, black dress shirts, and ties wandered through the ballroom carrying trays of hot hors d’oeuvres and champagne flutes.

A smiling brunette dressed in a teal suit and white blouse approached them as they stepped inside the ballroom. “Good evening, Mr. McIntyre.”

“Good evening, Cheryl,” Shane said. “This is Miss Jamison.”

The woman consulted her clipboard. “You’re seated in the front, sir. If you’ll follow me.” She led them to one of the tables near the stage, where she pointed out their name cards.

Shane was seated to Beth’s right. He checked to see who’d be sitting on her left. “Would you please seat Dottie Patterson on Beth’s immediate left, and then Dr. Patterson beside Dottie?”

The woman made a quick notation on her clipboard and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Let’s check your purse at the cloakroom,” Shane said to Beth. “And then we’ll find you something to eat. It’ll be another hour at least before supper is served.”

“Sounds good,” Beth said, pasting a smile on her face. She’d hardly eaten anything all day, and she was starting to feel the effects. She knew she should eat something before she ended up in a puddle on the floor.

They wandered over to the cloakroom to check her clutch.

“I’ll keep your inhaler,” Shane said, holding out his hand. Beth handed him her inhaler, and he slipped it into his inside jacket pocket. “Just in case,” he said.

After they checked Beth’s clutch, Shane flagged down a server with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Beth selected a bite-sized warm quiche filled with spinach and an herbed cream cheese and popped it into her mouth. It melted in her mouth, and she moaned with delight.

Shane chuckled at her reaction and handed her two more of the tiny quiches. A moment later, he snagged another waiter and handed Beth a mini skewer with tiny cherry tomatoes and fresh mozzarella balls garnished with small pieces of fresh spinach leaf.

“Thank you, Shane, but that’s enough. If I eat much more, I won’t have any room for supper.”

Shane accepted two flutes of champagne from a passing server as he led Beth to a quiet spot out of the flow of traffic. He handed one of the glasses to her.

“To us,” he said, holding his glass toward hers. “To a memorable evening.”

“To us.” She tipped her glass against his, then took a sip of champagne.

The orchestra struck up a lively waltz and couples eager to dance took to the floor. She watched the couples flocking to the dance floor and hoped that Shane wouldn’t get any ideas along those lines.

It didn’t take her long to realize that Shane attracted a lot of attention. Even out of the way, as they were against the wall, a steady stream of people stopped by to talk to him. He was unfailingly polite, and he introduced her to almost everyone who stopped by. Eventually it all became one big blur to Beth.

“I sincerely hope there won’t be a test,” she said, during one of their rare moments alone. “I can’t possibly remember all these people’s names.”

“There’s no test, I promise,” he said, chuckling as he drew her close for a quick kiss. “Did I mention how lovely you look tonight?” he murmured, kissing her cheek.

“I think you did mention it.” She blushed at the blatant heat in his eyes.

She’d been doing a lot of that – blushing – throughout the evening. Many of the guests had ooh’d and ahh’d over her to Shane – particularly the older guests – as if she were a pet poodle he was showing off. She had received more than her fair share of compliments on her dress, her hair, her face, and on her eyes.

Dottie Patterson, one of the more welcome faces that Beth recognized, had dragged her husband, Gene, over to say hello. But not everyone had been quite so welcoming. A few of the guests – women, to be precise – had been courteous, but aloof, when Shane had introduced her. Those happened to be the younger women, relatively speaking, the ones under the age of 40 who eyed Shane with a directness Beth found inappropriate. They didn’t even bother trying to hide the fact they were undressing him with their eyes. Always polite, Shane seemed not to notice their fawning, but it had annoyed her to no end.

Shane had long since drained his champagne flute – and half of Beth’s as well – and was in the mood for something a little more substantial. They made their way through the throng of people chatting, networking, and dancing to the bar, where Shane ordered a whiskey neat for himself and a Coke for Beth.

“Would you like to dance?” he said, when they’d finished their drinks.

Beth frowned as she glanced at the packed dance floor. “Shane, I don’t know how to dance.”

“It’s easy, sweetheart. All you have to do is follow me.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close. “Just one dance, please,” he said. “I’d really like to hold you in my arms right now.”

 “All right,” she conceded. “But only if I can visit the ladies room first. My bladder is about to burst.”

Chapter 32

Beth’s trip to the ladies room wasn’t entirely a ploy to avoid dancing. After a partial glass of champagne, water, and a soft drink, her bladder really was about to burst. She also needed a break from the crushing crowd of well-wishers and curious onlookers. She’d lost count of how many people had stopped to speak to Shane and, out of politeness, to her. Most of them had been friendly enough, but a couple of the women had practically glared daggers at her.

To her surprise, Shane came inside the ladies’ room with her and did a quick sweep of the room. It was a large restroom, designed to support a large facility. There were two long rows of stalls separated by an equally long counter with a black marble top and a half-dozen sinks. On the counter stood elaborate flower arrangements and silver bowls of tiny, individually-wrapped soaps. Crystal chandeliers and velvet wallpaper with gold highlights added to the upscale ambiance.

The restroom wasn’t empty. Beth could hear the tell-tale quiet sounds of women using the facilities. But Shane had been discreet as he’d made his round.

Smothering a chuckle, Beth shooed him toward the exit. “What in the world were you looking for?” she whispered.

“You’d be surprised what goes on in public restrooms,” he whispered back.