The Socialite and the Bodyguard (9 page)

Nash hit the speed dial for Mike. Before he did anything else, he needed to know if Kayla and Greg were all right.

She’d saved his life back at that elevator.

Whatever everyone else thought about her, Kayla Landon was a helluva woman.

And he was not going to let anything happen to her. He let go all of his resolutions then and there. To hell with not getting in up to his eyebrows. To hell with professional distance. To hell with making sure the job stayed just a job. As of now, this was personal.

She couldn’t sleep. The elevator had been a close call. Her whole body still vibrated with tension. Nash lying there, within view, didn’t help either. His presence was impossible to ignore, day
or
night. Kayla pushed back the covers and got up. She needed to get rid of some nervous energy. If she were at home, she would have had yoga with Ilona today. The popular instructor came to her house three times a week.

She needed exercise, to exhaust herself to the point of passing out. Her laboring mind and jittery body might never get any rest otherwise.

She grabbed a pair of shorts and a sports top from her dresser and put them on in her bathroom, picked up her gym bag. She always took that with her when she traveled.

“Where are you going?” Nash asked out of the darkness when she walked into the living room.

He didn’t startle her. She knew that he, too, was still awake. She’d heard him get up a couple of times since they’d gone to bed. She would have stayed put if he were sleeping, would have let him rest.

“Gym’s open around the clock,” she said.

“Hang on a sec.” He went and got Dave up to take over and guard Greg, then grabbed his own bag, checked the hallway before letting her step outside.

Nothing but a small table lamp had been on inside the suite, but the lights were on in the hallway. Nash’s short hair was mussed, but he didn’t sport the same sleep-deprived look she knew must be evident on her face. His eyes were sharp and alert. His body…

She looked away. The flat-out best thing she could do for herself was not think about his body at all, especially when they were alone in the middle of the night. Temporarily alone. She hoped the hotel was full of insomniacs and the gym would be buzzing.

“Let’s take the stairs.” She walked toward the door at the end of the hall. The gym was only two floors above them.

He stood still, watching her. “The guy is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore,” he said softly.

She knew that. In the morning, she would take an elevator down, but tonight, the near crash was still too close. “Extra exercise,” she told him.

Whether he believed her or not, he followed her. Their footsteps echoed off the bare walls of the staircase as they made the short trip up. He passed her, putting his body squarely in front of her like a shield.

Which left her with little to do but look at his butt. The man could sell jeans. No other marketing message was needed. She forced herself to look away. The physical attraction was insane. Made her nervous.

Except that with Nash Wilder, she couldn’t pretend that she had a prayer. He could take control of the growing sexual tension between them so fast it would leave her head spinning. Which meant her best bet was not to give him any sign, any clue at all that she was the least bit attracted to him.

“Good luck with that,” she murmured under her breath as they arrived at last.

The gym was empty save for the two of them. For a second, she thought of turning right around. But she didn’t want to explain why she had changed her mind suddenly. He turned on the overhead lights. She went straight to the treadmill. He seemed to be set on working with weights. She tried not to watch him.

That worked for about two minutes.

His movements were even, efficient and powerful. His body was a well-oiled machine. He went through the stations, pushing insane amounts of weight slowly, deliberately as he completed his repetitions. Long, fabulous muscles stretched and contracted, forming mesmerizing bulges.

“Do you have a girlfriend…or something? At home. Wherever that is.” She was surprised by how much she hated that possibility.

He stopped doing bench presses and sat up, looked at her, an amused smile playing above his top lip. “When would I have time for that?”

Good point. Yet she couldn’t picture a man like him remaining celibate either. She supposed there was downtime between assignments. She didn’t want to think about what he did during those times and with whom he did it. Just too damn depressing. But there were plenty of other things she wanted to know about other areas of his life.

“What did you do before you became a bodyguard?”

“This and that.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. He took the dark and mysterious act too far. “On the good side or on the bad? I’d like to know at least whether you were a soldier or an assassin.”

A dark eyebrow slid up his forehead, his gaze steady on her and heating. “Started out as a marine.”

Right. His
Semper Fi
tattoo was all but staring her in the face, but she didn’t seem to be able to hold many coherent thoughts in her mind just now. The heart-rate monitor built into the handle of the treadmill beeped. She slowed a little. “And after that?”

“Why the sudden interest?” He let the weight slide back, got up and came closer.

Her feet slowed further on the treadmill.
Because I want to know more about the man who’s making me blind with lust.
“I’m trusting you with my life.”

“I’m going to save it or die trying. That’s all you need to know.” He was almost directly in front of her now, his gold whiskey eyes still holding her gaze.

The hotel was quiet around them. They were the only two people in the world. Energy and power radiated from him, a potent masculinity she clearly wasn’t immune to. She shut the treadmill down before she tripped over her own feet.

“I’m—” God, it was hot in here. “I’m going to rinse off and swim a few laps.” She stepped off and escaped his nearness. It was either that or step into his arms.

“Good idea.” He followed.

Right into the women’s dressing room.

She stopped and turned to face him. “I think I’ll be safe in here.”

“I have to rinse off, too, and I’m not leaving you alone.” His voice was dangerously low.

They were going to shower together? Her throat went dry. Every nerve ending in her body came alive.

“You take that stall, I’ll take one on the other side. Close the curtain. I won’t peek.” His eyes darkened even as he said it.

“I’m not comfortable with this.”

He said nothing. He simply turned and walked away.

Embarrassment washed over her. Of course he could keep his hands off her. Girlfriend or not, a guy like him had to have a dozen women at his beck and call. She turned and marched off into her corner, waited until he disappeared around a dividing wall to go to his shower on the other side.

“Ready?” he gave warning before coming around the corner.

“Good to go.” She was walking toward the door already, but her steps faltered at the sight of him.

His shoulders
were
wide and massive; an impressive amount of muscle covered his torso. He hadn’t bothered to dry off, so droplets of water glistened on his skin and on the smattering of hair that began around his belly button and disappeared below the waistline of his Bermuda-style swim shorts.

She swallowed hard and skipped that area, then swallowed again when her gaze dropped to his legs.

He always wore jeans with a black T-shirt, a pair of sweatpants in the gym. This was the first time she’d seen him in anything short. She eyed the extensive scars on his right leg warily.

He caught her looking.

“Land mine,” he said. “There. Now you know something else about me.”

“Where did that happen?”

“On the Korean border. I was looking for the damn thing. Missed it. Thank God for the protective suit. Still gave me a mother of a concussion.”

“And nearly took off your leg.”

“There was that,” he said, his face tightening.

“I didn’t know marines disarmed land mines.”

“Marines do everything and then some. But by then I wasn’t with the marines.”

Where do you graduate to from the marines? Hadn’t that job been dangerous enough for him? “Are you going to tell me who you were with?”

He gave a small smile. “Not a chance.”

“You’re not an easy man to get to know.” And if she had any brains at all, she wouldn’t try to get to know him better. She would let him do his job then forget him when he left.

She stopped and dropped her towel on a plastic chair, remembering the conversation she’d had with her mother after her first disastrous date when a guy had used her for a publicity stunt, getting her tipsy at a party then getting her up on a pool table to dance, flipping her skirt up for a photo that had made tabloid headlines all over the country.

She’d had such a crush on him. They’d been in the same accounting class all semester.

“I’m not ever going to trust a guy again,” she’d told her mom. “And since I can’t fall in love with someone I don’t trust, I’m probably never getting married,” she’d warned. “How did you ever trust Dad?”

Her father was partial owner of an up-and-coming business when he and her mother had met. Her mother came from one of the oldest Pennsylvania families, with plenty of old money and connections among the top tier. She’d had plenty of suitors who’d wanted a piece of that.

She wondered if anyone had ever loved Nash. If he’d ever let anyone close enough to get to know him.

“Worried about tomorrow?”

She hadn’t realized that he’d been watching her. She shook her head. “Thinking about my mother. How about your parents? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

They were by the pool, at the deep end.

“Only child. Parents both dead,” he said in a tone of voice that said that was the end of that conversation.

“You ever
really
talk to anyone?” she asked. How on earth did anyone ever get close to a man like this when he never shared anything about himself? Not that she wanted to get close to Nash. If she had any brains at all, she would stay far away from him.

“Not much to say.” He shrugged.

“I doubt that.”

“Women love a man of mystery,” he said with a sudden, teasing smile. And then he jumped into the pool, splashing her.

She could do little else but go after him. Nash was beside her, they were trapped together in their own world. In that one moment, for the first time in a long time, she felt completely safe. Too bad she couldn’t stay there forever. She pushed away, desperate for air.

He was still underwater when she broke the surface, but only a second or two passed before he came up next to her, shaking water from his hair. He had a leaf on his shoulder. Must have come from one of the dozen potted ficus trees that edged the pool.

She reached out to brush it off. His skin radiated heat. Their gazes held. The air disappeared from her lungs. Physical attraction drew her forward. Common sense held her in place.

She held her breath as time stopped.

“We should swim those laps,” he said, breaking the spell.

And she threw herself into the task as if thrown a lifeline. She put every ounce of energy she had into slicing through the water. One lap, two, three…five, six. She was only vaguely aware that he passed her periodically, his powerful body outpacing hers almost two laps to one.

When she was gasping for air, her muscles burning, she stopped and hung on to the pool’s edge, watched him finish.

He stopped next to her once again, just as close as before. Closer. Drops of water rolled off his wide shoulders. His eyes burned with desire. Her mouth went dry as primal need overtook her.

He shook his head. “It’s not working. I still want you so much I can’t see straight.”

She couldn’t breathe.

“It’s about the stupidest thing we could do. Your call.”

She had no idea where she got the temerity to slip into his arms. “I haven’t done anything colossally stupid in at least a week,” she murmured against his mouth.

The second their lips met, pleasure flooded her body. He pulled her to him tightly, leaving no doubt where he wanted her, how much he wanted her, every inch of them touching. And then he kissed her dizzy.

His lips were firm and warm on hers, tasting, teasing, cajoling. He was still the soldier. First he did a thorough recon, then he moved ahead and conquered. His large, masculine hands explored her body under the water. She wore very little, barely anything blocking his way. Her breasts grew full under his palms. Heat gathered low in her belly. She was about ready to wave the white flag and surrender everything when he pulled away.

He was breathing as erratically as she was. But he grabbed on to the side of the pool and pushed himself out of the water, his triceps bulging. Among other things. When he was out, he turned to offer a helping hand.

He pulled her out and up into his arms, carried her to the showers. This time, they showered together. And what little clothes they had on didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Whatever was happening between them was progressing at the speed of light. They had to stop, but as his hands slid down the curve of her back, she found herself pressing even closer to him.

He kissed her, possessed her, tasted her mouth, her neck, her nipples. She wanted him, then and there, their bodies slick with water.

She had never in her life done anything as crazy as making love in a public place when she knew very well the paparazzi were always lurking. She had to be out of her mind to be doing this.

As if reading her thoughts, he pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, princess. This is it.”

Her body vibrated with frustration and need. She couldn’t speak.