Gambling on the Bodyguard (2 page)

“He’s pretty,” Jax supplied.

Sexiest man alive.
But not the cover model. Not anymore. Not next to Wolverine.

To his
pretty
assessment, she nodded, though the words rang as mockery. Rightfully so, at this point.

“Look,” Jax said. “I can’t let you in without a ticket, but I’ll make you a deal. Let me take you out. Give me a chance to show you what a real man is like, and afterward if you still want to meet Pretty Boy I’ll make personal introductions.”

A real man
. Had Wolverine really just asked her out? “You can do that?” Her mind flashed bedroom porn—her clutching sheets for dear life while he drove into her. The image, painfully brief, sent need tearing through her. She was in Las Vegas. Things like that totally happened here. Her clit happy-danced. She quaked. A little over the top, but considering the vision in her head, it was a miracle she hadn’t dissolved entirely. “You can…introduce me to…?”

What the hell was his name?

“As we previously discussed,” he said with a hint of humor, “I’m his bodyguard.” He withdrew his wallet and presented his identification. Jax Mathis, take two. It matched the photo ID around his neck, but this version offered a Vegas address. “Google me. I’ll wait.”

Wariness forced some of the adrenaline from her veins, but the adrenaline pushed back. This was Vegas. If she couldn’t do something crazy here, and with this man, she should probably just give up. Go home. Collect cats by the dozen—her mutt would just love that. Besides, a man who managed to look gorgeous in his driver’s license photo was not to be trusted. That had to be a rule somewhere.

But what did that matter? This was Vegas. Rules didn’t apply.

She swallowed her indecision, hoping courage would somehow take its place. Rational thought edged through. “If you’re his bodyguard, shouldn’t you be…guarding him?”

“He’s got security in there up to his eyeballs courtesy of the venue. They thought it was enough.”

“And he didn’t?”

His heated gaze scorched a trail down her body and back up again. “Was he wrong?”

She shot him her best death glare, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he smiled. It was pure devastation, and not because he was keeping her from her cover model. “So what’s it going to be?” he asked. “Me or hotel security?”

“That’s blackmail.”

“I prefer to think of it as a reprieve. Time off for good behavior—or bad, if that’s your preference.”

His tone—the suggestion in his words—made her thighs quake. It took all of two seconds to find her phone in the teeny little handbag that had sent her ticket to swim with the fishes.
Jax Mathis
. Thirty seconds later, she had reasonable proof the man in front of her was legit.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I have a better idea.”

“What’s that?” he asked, humor threading his tone.

“You take me in to meet Mr. Focker.”

He shook his head. One of those
I-don’t-believe-this
gestures that suggested she was crazy. Maybe so, but she might as well own it.

“And this differs from your original plan
how
?” he asked.

“You think you’re the better man, so prove it. Introduce us. Let me decide.” She met that hard blue gaze with all the nerve she could muster—nerve that had nothing to do with meeting Focker and everything to do with the heat emanating off his bodyguard—and treated him to her most innocent smile.

A corner of his mouth tipped. He invaded her space just a little, and her body begged for her to throw the white flag of surrender, to fall against that wall of man and find out if he was hard all over. Everywhere but his lips…they appeared soft. Sensual. And they oh-so-sensually curved into a smile.

“Suppose I agree to this,” he said, his voice husky with bedroom tones. Blue eyes devoured her, and in that moment she desperately wanted his lips to do the same. Her breathing grew shallow with anticipation and nearly stopped when he toyed with the tips of her hair, tugging gently. When his fingertips traced her spine, she bit back a gasp. Her eyes fluttered closed before she could make the effort to stop them. When he spoke, his deep voice rumbled dangerously close to her ear. “What happens when you realize I’m right?”

With him that close, she couldn’t see straight, much less string together syllables. “Right…about…what?”

A grin touched his lips, his words tearing through her. “He may be pretty, Colorado, but are his hands rough? Can he work them inside you until your knees give out? Until you can’t breathe?” He let the suggestions hover. Wreck her. “When you lie in your bed tonight, wanting someone to touch you, are you going to think about him posing on the front of a damned book cover, or are you going to think of me?”

Oh, dear God. Would she ever
stop
thinking of Jax? Was that even an option? And what the hell was happening here? Desire devoured her. She was dizzy. She didn’t need to give a second’s consideration to answer his question. There was only one answer, and he knew it. “You.”

She expected triumph to shape his face, but it didn’t. If anything, he turned more serious. Ice blue eyes regarded her, their intensity deepening. His hand rested lightly on her back. Too lightly. She wanted him to haul her against him, to make good on any one of those promises. To teach her firsthand what those undoubtedly talented fingers could do.

But not yet.

“I’ll be thinking of you,” she repeated, a little stronger this time. “But if you don’t let me meet Willie Focker, I won’t be thinking of what you can do with your fingers, but where I want to put my foot.” She grinned as his faded.

“Put your money where your mouth is, Jax Mathis. If you’re a real man, prove it.”

Chapter Two

Well, hot damn
. Jax suppressed a grin. The sexy little wildcat had claws, and they were hot as hell paired with that tight black dress. He shouldn’t have tried to blackmail her, as she put it, but any guilt he might have felt had been eradicated the moment she handed him that challenge.

Out man Focker? No problem. Having been hired specifically for the Vegas convention, Jax had only known the guy a couple of days, but he wasn’t hard to read. The dude might be pretty, but he didn’t have a manly bone in his body. Focker wouldn’t open his own car door because he worried he’d wreck his manicure. He demanded someone carry an umbrella to shelter him and his precious skin from the desert sun. He had facials nightly. He also claimed he had all the sex he wanted, and no doubt he did, but Jax would bet money it wasn’t the hot, sweaty, down and dirty kind.

Looking at Ellie, he couldn’t imagine anything less.

“I think that sounds like blackmail, Colorado.” Ironic that he’d call her out, seeing as how she’d done nothing more than turn the tables on him. But he could make a night out of giving her a hard time. In fact, he planned on it.

“Take it or leave it,” she said, as feisty and stubborn as she was beautiful.

“I think that was my line.”

“Operative word being
was
,” she shot back.

He couldn’t help the grin that reshaped his mouth. He’d never forgive himself if she were playing him, but it didn’t matter. Making demands of a woman who didn’t want to give in wasn’t his thing. But convincing this one to give him a shot? Most definitely a thing.

In lieu of answering her, he snagged his phone from his pocket and called hotel security. When he requested someone come take his place at the so-called back door, Ellie flashed a victorious grin that weakened his knees but had the exact opposite effect on his dick.

“I win?” she asked.

He leaned down until his lips grazed her ear. “No, darlin’. I do.”

Her eyes widened, but he didn’t stick around long enough to get lost in them. His pants were already uncomfortably tight in ways that had nothing to do with being forced into a damned tux. He’d give anything for jeans and a t-shirt right about then—especially if a certain gorgeous brunette might be interested in stripping them off. He hoped he hadn’t imagined the spark of interest in her eyes. He was no Focker, but Jax would put that in the pro column any day of the week. Hopefully she’d come to the same conclusion when she met the airhead cover model.

He tugged at his collar as he left the room, the clack of Ellie’s heels suggesting she was right behind him. Hotel security passed him in the hall, confirming the door would be covered. Good enough. Jax rounded the corner and came to a stop. No fewer than twenty women stood in the hall screaming Focker’s name.

Business as usual.

Jax reached for Ellie’s hand. Without thinking, he laced his fingers through hers—way more intimate than necessary when a simple lobster claw would have sufficed—and edged his way through the throng, tugging her in his wake. At his intrusion, the women momentarily fell silent, but as soon as security opened the door for him, all hell broke loose. He quickly ushered Ellie ahead of him, living a full lifetime in the moments that sweet ass of hers spent pressed to the front of his pants as he urged her along. By the time the door closed behind them, it was he who stood dumbstruck while she laid eyes on her hero for the first time.

Focker stood shirtless near his life size cardboard romance book cover, women flanking him on both sides. He flashed his toothpaste commercial smile at each of them in turn, just like his manager told him.
Make every woman feel like the only one in the room
. Fine for professional reasons, but Jax didn’t like it. If he told a woman she was beautiful, it was because he meant it. Not because he wanted to sell another book with his face on it. Focker, who thought himself the Fabio of his generation, was vain even by Vegas standards, and that was saying something. Too bad he didn’t have a personality to go along with it. The man was about as entertaining as a brick, but that sure didn’t keep the women from screaming his name.

The guy at the door charged with checking identification was hard-eyeing him, so Jax left Ellie to her gawking and went to check her in. He hoped her story checked out and she was really on that list. If not, he could just name her as his plus one, but he didn’t want to go out later with someone who had lied to his face. And he definitely wanted to see her again. Body contact was all over his to-do list.

“Ellie Montgomery,” he told the guy with the list.

He marked something on his tablet. “You check her ID?”

Jax nodded. “Before I let her through the door.”

“Good deal. That makes a full house. Maybe we can seal that door, so to speak, and the crowd will dissipate.” Door check guy’s tone suggested he didn’t think it likely.

Jax agreed. He hadn’t needed days to understand the hype around Focker. He’d discovered that before they’d been formally introduced, while he was part of the detail trying to get the cover model from the car to his hotel room. Three in the morning and they’d been mobbed on the sidewalk like he was a fucking rock star. Hotel security had cut off the flow in the lobby, but the screams still rang in Jax’s ears long after the elevator doors slid shut. “Something, isn’t it?”

Door check guy nodded. “Yeah. If I wanted to work the shows, I would have. I never figured the conference rooms would be so…shrill.”

Jax glanced in the direction of Focker, where he expected he’d find the women. But one hung back. Ellie wasn’t far from where he’d left her, and rather than drooling over Focker, she watched Jax. And she wasn’t shy about it, either. When his eyes locked onto hers, her mouth slipped into an easy smile that made him want to tear up the distance between them and taste those full, lush lips. He’d give anything to see her lashes flutter closed under the promise of a kiss. To feel those curves pressed against him again. She had him twisted inside out, and he wasn’t sure why. Something about that fresh-faced innocence demanded he pay attention, and those long, gorgeous legs and that spectacular ass made it nonnegotiable.

“Don’t let Focker see you’ve upstaged him,” list guy said.

Jax blinked, his mind still caught on replaying the shudder that went through Ellie when he mentioned sex. “What?”

“That one only has eyes for you. If Focker notices, he’ll lose his shit.”

Jax grinned. “In theory. But what are the odds of him noticing anyone other than himself?”

The joke landed a little too close to the truth. “I see first impressions are more than skin deep.”

A pang of guilt assaulted Jax. Granted, he didn’t particularly like Focker, but his contract had been more than fair and his ego, while inflated, had certainly gotten that way honestly. Jax hadn’t seen that many screaming women since he’d had to guard the stage door to one of those boy band concerts. Bottom line, Focker did his thing and his fans responded. Damned hard to fault a man for that. “Nah, he’s a good guy. His entourage seems to love him. He just rolls on a different frequency like most of the celebrities who blow through here.”

“Looks like he’s noticed your girl.”

Jax watched, an unfamiliar feeling curling through his gut when Focker set his sights on Ellie. The fact that she didn’t stand in line to fawn over him probably made her more interesting than every other woman in the room, and Jax didn’t like where that could lead. “Excuse me.”

He walked over to Ellie before Focker—who had been stopped by yet another fan—could get to her. Jax nodded in Focker’s direction. “Shall we?” he asked.

“Shall we what?”

“I owe you a personal introduction,” he said gruffly.

She stared at him, confusion touching her eyes. No shocker there…Jax had a sudden grudge about his boss that hadn’t been there before, and it came through in his tone. “You got me in,” she said. “That’s enough.”

“No, it’s not.” Especially not now that Focker had noticed her. Jax had no right to stake a claim on Ellie, but he had a feeling Focker had taken one look at all that untapped innocence and was already making plans to haul her upstairs. Jax couldn’t keep that from happening, but it sure as hell wouldn’t happen in front of him.

He took her hand—again with the damned hand—and led her to Focker. His security badge worked wonders…once the women immediately surrounding the model noticed Jax, they actually parted the waters a little. It wouldn’t have happened if not for the intimate setting, he was sure. Here, they were all guaranteed a moment with their hero.

Focker greeted Ellie with his stage smile. Jax supposed he thought it charming. Whatever. He tried not to glare at Focker as he broke every rule of etiquette by presenting Focker to Ellie rather than the other way around. Focker would probably never know the difference, but he wasn’t the important one to Jax. Ellie was.

“Ellie Montgomery, I’d like you to meet Willie Focker.” Jax would never get used to that stupid name. It couldn’t be on the guy’s birth certificate. If it was, he had either the worst parents ever…or the coolest. “Mr. Focker, Ellie Montgomery.”

Focker took Ellie’s hand and pressed it to his lips.

Jax prepared for the meltdown women tended to have in Focker’s presence, but it didn’t happen. Neither did any sparkling conversation.

“You look lovely, Ellie,” Focker said. “Thank you for joining me this evening.”

Lovely
? Jax cringed over the obviously canned greeting.

“It’s my honor,” she said. Politely, but with a gush factor of zero.

“Ellie’s here from Colorado,” Jax supplied.

Focker’s canned smile got a little brighter. “An international guest?”

Ellie cut her eyes at Jax. “No, the state. Near Denver.”

The cover model straightened, like the flub had pumped him up.
Idiot
. “Well, it’s great you were able to attend,” Focker said. “What made you enter the contest?”

Jax braced himself for the Focker-is-God spiel.

It didn’t come.

“I found the card in a book and sent it in on a whim.” She shrugged. “I never thought I’d win, but any excuse to go to Vegas, right?”

Focker blinked with confusion. “Right. But you’re a fan of mine?”

“I have quite a few books with you on the cover, but I think you’re on the cover of almost all of them, aren’t you?” She smiled sweetly.

Jax wondered if not a bit
too
sweetly, but he kept his mouth shut. No way he’d call her out on failing to drool over the guy.

“Almost.” Focker laid on another one of those T-Rex grins. “But my collection wouldn’t be complete without you in it. Care to join me for a photo?”

Damned if she didn’t hesitate, her gaze darting to Jax’s. He nudged her. “Give me your phone, and I’ll take a few candids for you to go with the final shot.” He figured she’d want the evidence as soon as possible, whereas the professional shots would be edited and approved by Focker’s team before they were sent to each guest’s home address—a process that would take days, if not weeks.

Ellie extracted her phone from her purse, opened the lock screen, then handed him both items. She laughed. “Goes great with your outfit.”

He stood there, slightly dumbstruck to be holding a little sparkly purse. Then he realized Focker had his arm around her and the odd feeling in his gut flared. Jax wasn’t one of those
mine at first sight
types. He avoided attachments, which was easy enough to do in a place where the majority of the population came and went with the rising sun. He didn’t have time for the empty ones, and he didn’t deserve anything real—not after what he’d done. What he’d
lost
. But despite the shadows of regret he’d never before been able to shake, he wanted to get to know Ellie. The urge was as foreign as her sparkly purse and no less out of place.

Focker’s handlers were getting him and Ellie in position in front of the life size book cover that boasted a background flush with draped fabric and the title
Bedded for Her Pleasure
.

Nothing like an ego, that was for damned sure.

Ellie, with her hair falling in shiny waves and her little black dress clinging to every curve, looked the part of the heroine, but she didn’t belong in Focker’s arms. Jax didn’t like her there. He didn’t know what that meant, but there it was. Feral emotion tore him up inside. And he was documenting every moment.

Holding a purse.

After an interminable period of time that couldn’t have in reality spanned more than ten minutes, they wrapped up their shoot. Ellie escaped Focker’s clutches flushed and laughing. Fucking gorgeous.

Ellie stepped away from Focker, but she didn’t get far before he put a hand on her arm.

“Would you like to join me for drinks after the event?” he asked her.

Jax felt like he’d been punched. Ellie said she wasn’t there to sleep with Focker, but
join me for drinks
was code for
get fucked solid,
and Jax had a feeling he’d be the one facing jail time if Ellie said yes. Which was pretty much ridiculous considering they’d just met, but it was fact all the same.

Jax invaded their solitude and handed her the purse and phone. He started to step away, but Ellie tucked her arm in his.

“Thank you for the offer,” she said to Focker. “I can’t tell you how much of an honor it is that you’ve asked, but as it turns out I have plans.”

The shock that splayed across Focker’s face was almost funny. Almost. Jax had known the man all of two days, and he’d seen him ask no fewer than ten women to have so-called drinks. His offer had never been met with an ounce of hesitance, let alone a flat-out rejection.

“You have plans?” Focker asked, a trace of sheet-white marring his perfect spray tan.

“I sure do.” She glanced at Jax. “Turns out I have a date with a hero of my own.”

…

Ellie twirled her straw in her drink and flashed a smile that put the sun to shame, not that Jax ever saw anything celestial through Vegas’s neon lights. She managed to pack the gesture with enough sincerity and self-deprecation that he wondered if his judgment had gone to hell. Every other woman he’d had to peel off Focker’s tail had lost her shit when he’d come between her and her perceived destiny. This one had turned down a private meeting with Focker in favor of a date with Jax.