Some Like It Deadly (8 page)

“The pool?” It delighted him that she liked it.

“The pool. The day. It’s beautiful.” The sun glinted off the water droplets sliding down the curve of her cheek.

Yes, she was. “It’s why I bought the place.” He braced his feet against the warm concrete and let the heat soak in against his back. The coffee and the company had done wonders for his hangover.

“You like swimming?” She leaned back into the water and slicked her hair away from her face.

“I do, but it was for days like this. Days when I could just be out here and be alone, not worry about someone staring at me or watching for me to do something or make a mistake.” It sounded very Dickensian. “That came out wrong.”

“You like your privacy.” She flexed her arms, then pulled herself out of the water to sit on the side, feet dangling. “I get it.”

A long thin, pink line bisected her left shoulder blade and disappeared behind the razorback of the suit. Rising, he walked over and crouched next to her. Tracing the scar, he frowned. “What happened here?” Her muscles went rigid under his touch and he hesitated, curling his fingers toward his palm. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Just surprised me, is all.” She shook her head and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “And that?” She twisted to glance at her shoulder and laughed. “Oh, I’d almost forgotten I had that.”

Shifting to sit next to her, he dropped his feet into the water and braced his palms on the pool edge—that should help him keep his hands to himself. “I sense a story there.”

“Not a very exciting one. Actually, it’s a pretty stupid story, now that I think about it.” The combination of her self-deprecating tone and rueful expression elicited an altogether tender response that he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Now you have to tell me.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “You got my deep, dark secret out of me last night.” He never talked about his father, the subject guaranteed to put him in a black mood, but in this moment, sitting in the sunshine next to Kate, the shadow passed by with nothing more than a twist to his heart.

“To be fair, you need to understand that I grew up on an army base with three older brothers and their four best friends. These hooligans got into everything.” She made a face and he grinned. He really didn’t know much about the woman behind the efficient assistant beyond her sharp intelligence and occasionally saucy bites of wit. “As the youngest and a girl—” she grimaced, “—I was often excluded from some of their more exciting adventures.”

“And that didn’t sit well with you.” An educated guess, but he knew he was right.

“Hell no, it didn’t sit well with me. I could do anything they could do.” All feminine outrage, then she grinned. “But they were older and had a lot more freedom. They used to do this thing called creek dogging.”

“Never heard of it.” He slid off the side and into the water, the cooler temperature bracing against his sun-heated skin. During his convalescence, he hadn’t gotten to spend much of time in the water—or in the sun, for that matter. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed both.

“Basically, you run wild in a creek area—climbing trees, going over the sides of bridges, whacking snakes and pretending it’s the wilderness. Risking your damn fool neck.” Damn that sounded fun. When was the last time he did something just for the fun of it? His expression must have revealed something, because she raised her eyebrows at him and laughed. “You’d probably have liked it. It was always about dares. One would dare another to do something crazy and they’d escalate. Anyway, there’s this one bridge, about twenty feet up from the water? The water is also deeper there because it was where two creeks met and created a little rapid effect. The guys hooked a rope up on one side and used it to swing back and forth and then decided they’d see who could leap the farthest from the bridge and into the water.”

He nodded, watching the way the memories played across her face. When she talked about the boys, she relaxed, and her tone softened with affection. She adored her brothers, but he also saw a trace of wistful sadness when she looked out over the pool as though the memories were bittersweet.

Kate cleared her throat and refocused on him. “I’d followed them, tagging along and generally being a pain in the ass. Kevin—he was seventeen at the time—was also my eldest brother. He told them all to knock it off, and he didn’t really want me there, which meant it was twice as fun for me to be. The other guys didn’t listen to him and over the edge they went.” Her tongue skated across her lower lip and she shook her head. “Kevin is standing there telling me no way in hell was I to follow and I ran at that rail and jumped—just like they did—only my legs weren’t quite long enough and my foot hit that top rail. Instead of going over legs first, I went head first.”

Richard winced. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit, yeah.” Her humor grew with the recollection if that was possible. “I heard the guys yell and then I hit the water. You know creeks aren’t known for being really deep, or really clean, or even really empty—between the force of the fall and my angle, I went all the way down and slammed my shoulder into something. It hurt
bad
and by the time I sputtered back up, I had two brothers trying to drag me out of the water. Then we saw the blood. I’d lacerated the shoulder on a broken bottle or something, but that part didn’t hurt.”

He found that hard to believe. “No?”

“Nope.” She grinned. “It was the dislocation that hurt.”

“Ouch.” He’d dislocated his shoulder during a touch football game on the quad after colliding with one of Armand’s bodyguards. Damn thing had hurt for months, even after quick medical care. “But if the water was that dirty, you could have had an infection.”

“I could have had necrotizing fasciitis and I wouldn’t have cared. I was so damn proud of myself for having done it, for making the jump. The bleeding and the pain couldn’t diminish that. ‘’’Course my dad’s and mom’s reactions were less enthusiastic.” Her eyes brightened and she shrugged. “I was grounded for a month and so were the boys, but do you know the best thing that happened that day?”

“What?” The light in her eyes, the window of insight into the reckless freedom of her youth, held him hostage.

“My brothers didn’t make me stay behind again because I wasn’t a baby and I didn’t cry. So after I was all healed up, when they went creek dogging, so did I.” Pride shimmered in her tone. “I got damn good at it, too, and I never missed another leap.”

“I think I like your brothers. What are they doing now?” Wrong question. The light in her eyes dulled and her smile faded. Touching a hand to her knee, he frowned. “Hey, I didn’t mean to bring up a bad memory.”

“It’s fine, just it’s easier to forget some days than it is others. Kevin died in Afghanistan in 2004. Parker went down in Iraq a couple of years later, a training accident.” She cleared her throat. “But Beany Baby is in Germany.”

“Hell, Kate. I’m sorry.” He tightened his grip on her knee. Losing not one, but two brothers—that went beyond suck. It would carve out a piece of his soul if Armand died. Barb was his baby sister, and he loved her, but Armand was his family too.

“It’s okay.” She covered his hand with hers and gave him a tremulous smile that almost reached her eyes. “Really. They died doing what they loved and they wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. They were tough guys and I haven’t thought about creek dogging in years. Thank you for that.”

The conversation quieted for a moment and he longed for a way to bring back the sparkle and chase away the shadow of sadness. “Beany Baby?”

She stroked her thumb in a slow circle against the back of his hand and her laughter caught him off guard. “Benjamin. I couldn’t say Ben when was I was little and used to call him Bean. He was one of those kids that shot straight up—all arms and legs and no body—and Kevin and Parker called him String Bean. Well, one day when he was razzing me, I called him Beany Baby and, to his horror, that name stuck.”

Loving the humor dancing in the words, he grinned. “Duly noted.” Before he could add anything else, his cell phone rang and she pulled her hand away. “That,” he sighed with a hint of regret. “Is probably the food.” Levering himself out of the water, he went to claim the phone.

He could have wished for a few more minutes before the interruption, but they had all day. The brief glimpse into her past wasn’t enough.

The more he learned about Kate, the more drawn to her he was.

But she didn’t offer him another chance. By the time they’d eaten breakfast, stored away the food and returned to the pool deck, her professional reserve returned. Oh, she laughed and she teased him, but she didn’t talk about her family or her life beyond a few cryptic comments that told him he’d barely scratched the surface of this complicated woman.

And he wanted...
more.

Chapter Six

It turned out to be an idyllic day and, despite reciting every reason in the book she should have gotten her ass out of there, she’d stayed. Twice more Richard’s phone rang, but she gave him credit—he checked who called and let both go to voicemail. The only messages he returned were texts from the grand duke.

His best friend—can’t really fault him for that one.

He’d been damn attractive when he’d walked into the kitchen, damp hair disheveled and bare chest revealing a raw, primal physique. In his dress slacks, he’d been a study in contrasts—and very, very male. Ten laps in the pool didn’t do a damn thing for easing the far from professional interest her body was developing and when he traced his finger down her shoulder blade, every nerve ending in her body had fired.

Some lines weren’t meant to be crossed and she’d sliced right through them, telling him about her brothers and a half-forgotten, but thoroughly thrilling, childhood memory. Leaning her hands against the counter in the bathroom she’d borrowed to take a shower and clean up from their afternoon of leisure in the sun, Kate eyed her reflection.

It had taken a lot to distance herself, but she needed to maintain those lines. Her job was to protect him—not to explore the hard, very able body she’d discovered under his ten thousand dollar suits. Unfortunately, her hormones remained in violent disagreement with her ethics.

A light knock at the door sent a shiver of anticipation up her spine. She wore a towel and nothing else. The only thing between her and Richard was couple of inches of door. How easy would it be to open the barrier and make this a truly unforgettable day off...

Seriously
,
get a grip.
She cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Sorry, Armand called. He’s invited us to dinner at the tower with him and Anna and won’t take no for an answer.”

“Us?” She frowned. The grand duke knew damn good and well what her job was. Maybe that was why he’d included her in the invitation, but it didn’t make her presence any more appropriate. Bad enough Richard had caught her in that bar the night before with the grand duke. So far, he hadn’t asked her why she’d been in the complete opposite direction of where she’d dropped off the court papers or what she and the grand duke had been discussing.

A rasp of fabric against the wall told her Richard leaned next to the door. “Yes,
us.
Armand said he enjoyed chatting with you last night and that I should bring you along.”

“I don’t really have anything to wear.” She’d planned to put her sleep-rumpled clothes back on and head home.

Unfortunately, Richard wasn’t dissuaded. “Check the closet, I’m sure you can find something in your size in there.”

She’d never have credited the grand duke for being cruel. Including her in a social event in the tower—one of the most highly secured locations in Los Angeles—didn’t sit well with her.
Unless...
Pulling the door open, she gave Richard an assessing look. “You’re about to lose your wager, aren’t you?”

He straightened immediately, but his attention dropped to her towel. “I am?”

Refusing to be sidetracked because she’d forgotten about the towel, she fisted the ends together above her breasts. “Eyes up.”

Obediently, he snapped his gaze to hers. “Sorry, your towel distracted me.”

“They’re bad like that,” she replied drily. “He invited
us
because this isn’t just a social visit.”

“Probably not, no.” He nodded and his gaze drifted lower again. He’d showered and changed. Dressed in a navy blue T-shirt that did nothing to disguise the cut of the muscles beneath and jeans, he looked more dangerous and delicious than he did in a suit.

“I said eyes up.” She could have closed the door. A part of her mind acknowledged that fact, and that she could have tabled the discussion for when she was dressed, but a rebellious streak stiffened her resolve.

“I’m trying.” He grinned. “I promise.”

“Hmm, so—since you lost the wager, what do I get?” The corner of her mouth twitched with pure feminine thrill at how aware of her he behaved.

“Not much, I’m afraid.” His grin turned wicked in its delight. “We never did negotiate the terms.”

“Verbal agreements are still binding.” Her competitive spirit surged, refusing to be disappointed.

“True.” He tapped a finger to his lips. “And we did agree we should wager.” Leaning forward, one hand braced against the doorframe, he met her gaze evenly. “What do you want?”

The earthy, clean scent of him wrapped around her and she looked at his mouth, then back up again. Interest gleamed in his eyes and the pupils dilated with the promise of arousal.
Oh
,
this is bad
,
Kate.
Throttle it back
,
throttle it back.
Withdrawing a step before she gave into temptation, she pasted on a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

Closing the door took every ounce of her self-control. She leaned back against the cool wood. For a long second, she’d imagined asking him for a kiss or just saying to hell with it and kissing him herself.

How was she supposed to protect him if she was fantasizing about getting him naked?

“Kate?” Dammit, even the way he said her name sent another shiver to race over her skin and her nipples tightened into nearly painful points beneath the towel.

Professional
,
soldier.
Keep it professional.
“Yes, Richard?” Although husky, she managed to keep her tone level.

“Open the door.”

Closing her eyes, Kate shook her head. “I’ll be out in a moment. I need to get dressed.”

A soft sound, a faint scrape, as though he ran his finger across the wood separating them. It teased her senses—imagining it was her skin he traced, as he had the scar on her shoulder. “I promised myself I would behave,” he murmured and she had to strain to hear him. “You work for me.”

“I know.”
God help me
,
do I know.

“But I’m thinking that you might be interested too. No harm, no foul, Kate. If you want to open the door, that’s between you and me. Not the office, not the job.”

Dammit.
She wanted to open the damn door. But they had a lot more standing between them than the office or the job. With regret she knew would sting, she turned to flatten her palm against the wood. “I’ll be down after I change.”

The protracted silence that met her statement wrenched at her heart. She almost opened the door to make sure he was all right. But, then, he tapped the wood once. “Okay.” The word rode a long breath, but no matter how light he made his tone, she couldn’t forget the seductive rasp of his invitation. “I’ll be waiting. On the up side, we got most of the day off.”

“Yeah.” She tried to inject some enthusiasm in her tone to disguise her struggle. “And I had fun.”

“Me too, Kate. Me too.” The hint of a step and he walked away. Kate stayed at the door, waiting until the last of his steps faded away before she made herself move. Personal investment in a protectee was permissible to a point. She couldn’t protect someone and not care about them, because their safety was what they paid her to care about.

But she cared a hell of a lot more for Richard than professional interest allowed. She’d talk to the grand duke and—No, he was also Richard’s best friend and between the two of them, they’d already lied to Richard enough. She’d talk to Peterson. He would understand the need for a replacement.

It was the right decision—the rational, calm and professional one.

So why did her stomach knot up at the idea?

* * *

By the time she’d dried her hair and come out into the borrowed bedroom, the door to the hallway was closed and she was alone. Opening the closet, she stared at the wide variety of clothes filling the space. Everything from casual to semi-formal, in different colors and—she shifted through the different hangers—different sizes.

Most were women’s clothing, but some were for children. The man had a huge house and a sister, but she didn’t think he had any nieces or nephews. So why all the clothes? Did he have lovers over so frequently in need of a change in clothing?

None of your business
,
Kate.
A snarky inner voice chastised her.

Hell, many of the clothes still had the tags on them. Maybe he kept them for his sister or maybe he had a new lover every week, it didn’t matter. They were clothes. She needed to pick something and put it on. At least the presence of the price tags meant she wasn’t putting on some other woman’s clothes.

Remembering his outfit, she chose a pair of jeans—they were just long enough to fit her legs. Forgoing a T-shirt, she chose a sleeveless button down blouse and found a blazer in the back.

She might be able to get away with moderately casual, but she still needed business dress and—frankly—the less skin she showed around Richard might be for the better.

When she walked down the stairs, her disheveled clothing over her arm, she found Richard waiting. He wore a blazer similar to the one she’d picked out, his hands tucked into his pockets. “You found something that fits. Great.” And no comment about his offer on the other side of the bathroom door.

Relieved, and a little disappointed, she took her cue from him. “I had a great selection to choose from.”

“That’s the idea.” He nodded. “You ready to go?”

“Absolutely.” Fortunately she’d worn low-heeled pumps with her suit the day before and they worked fine with this outfit. She could run in them—something she did periodically just to say trained in the event that she’d need to. “Do you want me to drive? I can take you back by the office afterward, pick up your car.” Security would have kept their eye on the vehicle that he’d left parked in the garage of the building housing his law office.

For the barest flicker of breath, frustration appeared in his eyes, but he nodded and the moment evaporated. “That would be great.” He picked up his keys from the dish by the door where she’d left them and keyed in the code to disarm his security system. She went out ahead of him and scanned the area. Her SUV sat where she’d left in the circular drive. The follow car wasn’t in evidence, but if she could see his security they wouldn’t be doing their job.

The little bubble of freedom encapsulating their day shrank the closer they got to the city. Conversation seemed strained and more than a little stilted. Richard’s attention was fixed on the passing landscape, but then he could also be thinking about the grand duke’s summons. Wherever his mind was, it wasn’t on her. They were better off ignoring each other.

She believed that, so why did it still bother her that he remained so silent?

“Hey.” He shifted in his seat about a block from the tower. “Stop over there—”

Already slowing and moving over to grab the street-side spot he’d indicated, she scanned the area. Steady foot traffic filled the sidewalks, people hurrying to and from the shops and likely the mall around the corner after work. A coffee shop, a newsstand and a flower kiosk also lined up along the street. “What’s up?”

“I want to get some flowers for Anna.” He pulled his wallet out of the inner pocket of his jacket and checked the bills inside. “She hasn’t totally forgiven me for knowing about Armand before she did and, you know, it’s the little things that go a long way.”

“I don’t think she’s that angry at you.” Kate saw the follow car swing past. There was nowhere for it to park near them. Protocol would have it do a pass and go around the block.
Crap.
“I’ll come along.”

“It’s fine.” Richard swung the car door open. “I’ll just be a minute.”

She couldn’t let him go on his own.

Turning off the engine, she slid out of the car and tried to assess the number of ways this was bad and there were too damn many of them. Jogging around the hood of the car, she caught up to him before he’d made it more than a half dozen steps.

“Maybe I should get them flowers too. You know, since they invited me to dinner.”
Lamest excuse ever.
Did you leave your professional brain behind?

Richard chuckled and it was the first sound of warmth and amusement she’d heard since turning down his request to open the door. “Get Armand some pansies. He’ll really appreciate that.”

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. “I don’t think insulting your best friend and premier client is the way to win friends and influence people.”

“I don’t know...” Richard paused at one corner of the flower kiosk and began to inspect the different arrangements. “I think it would influence me greatly.”

And just like that she was tempted to buy the pansies so she could enjoy Richard’s reaction. Angling so she stood just behind him and to the side, she scanned the street. Tall buildings hemmed them in and crowds of pedestrians straggled past—and that didn’t take into account the cars on the street.

The follow car made a pass and she made sure not to look at it. The less attention she drew to it, the better.

“What do you think of these?” Richard held out a colorful bouquet of carnations and lilies with a spray of baby’s breath interweaved through them. “Do they say I’m a nice guy you want to like?”

Sparing the flowers a brief glance, she shrugged. “They say you’re a sweet, thoughtful man trying to make amends.”

“So, I should add chocolate?” He studied the flowers, then the other items on the display.

“No, no chocolate.” She pivoted, her attention on her car.

Just two normal people out to pick up some flowers on the way to dinner.
Nothing to see here
,
folks.

“Women like chocolate,” he argued.

“That’s gender profiling and not wholly accurate. For example,
I
don’t like chocolate.” A man leaned against the wall across the street, but from the wear of his jeans and the dirty state of his shirt, she identified desperation and sadness, not threat.

“You don’t?” Richard swung all the way around and she met his gaze.

“Not particularly, no. It’s nice enough as an accent, but I’m just not a fan.” Yes, she was aware it made her a bit odd, but she’d always preferred other flavors to chocolate. The world, however, disagreed, and everything swam in chocolate these days.