Up Close and Personal

by Kathryn Freeman

  ‘I’m aware.’

  Zac sounded clipped and distant. Exactly as he had been all week. It was like the dance, when she’d melted against him – yes, for a moment there, Kat Parker had flipping melted. Anyway, it was like that hadn’t happened.

  Get someone else to be my bodyguard so you can be my date. It was like that hadn’t happened, either. And yes, she’d panicked at the idea, both of dating him and of giving up this chance to prove herself. She was starting to think the result though, this awful tension between them, was worse than doing as he’d suggested.

  ‘You know all about Hannah’s waitress friend, then?’ she prompted, pulling up at a red light and sliding him a look.

  He gave her a small, unamused smile. ‘If by that you mean have I been informed that another waitress at the event was annoyed I’d picked Hannah to leave with and not her, then yes.’ When she didn’t say anything, he gave a sharp bark of laughter. ‘Ouch, Ms Parker. I can see the judgement in your eyes from here.’

  ‘Then you need to get your eyes checked. I’m not judging.’ She focused back on the traffic lights, moving off when they turned green. ‘But okay, I am wondering why a guy like you, a guy who values his privacy, decides to have sex with a waitress he picked up at a party.’

  For a long while he didn’t speak. Then he sighed. ‘After Chloe—’

  ‘The trollop.’

  ‘Yes.’ Unlike when she’d said that at the party, there was no answering smile. ‘After her, I suppose I was looking for a more honest interaction. Two people clear on what they wanted. Even if it was just sex.’

  A glance at his handsome profile and she ached, just a little, for him. While it was clear Chloe hadn’t hurt his heart, she had dented his ego. Perhaps made him re-evaluate his self-worth to an extent that he was reduced to a tacky one-night stand.

  She’d not helped either, she thought with a pang of guilt, remembering how he’d taken her comment about how important the assignment was to her. Yep, he wasn’t the only one with secrets that had the potential to blow up in their faces.

  ‘By the way, I’m out tonight.’

  His statement, seemingly coming out of the blue, rocked her back. ‘Okay. Let me know what time to pick you up and where we’re going.’

  She was aware of his eyes on her. ‘What happened to Mark?’

  ‘Mark provides cover when I can’t. Tonight, Debs is at a party so I’m home alone. I might as well work it. Save the favour for another day.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry for making you work on a Friday night,’ he said tightly.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

  ‘Like what? That escorting me is a chore? But why wouldn’t it be? I am just a job to you, after all.’ Before she had a chance to reply he added, ‘I’d like to leave at 7.30 p.m. The destination is a club in Berkeley Square.’

  Swallowing down her annoyance – a rare feat – she gave him a cool smile. ‘How exciting. Little old me gets to go to a private members’ club.’

  ‘I suspect you’re used to it, in your line of work.’

  There he went again. She waited until they were parked and in the lift on the way to his suite before speaking again. ‘Can we stop all the snide remarks. They’re doing my head in.’

  He shrugged his shoulders in an elegant gesture of indifference. ‘I’m doing as you requested. Keeping things professional. Client and bodyguard. Of course, that assumes you still want to be my bodyguard, but as you’re still here I guess this assignment really is important to you.’

  There he went again, twisting what she’d said. ‘It is. You’re important to me,’ she added quietly, hoping he would understand the two weren’t mutually exclusive. ‘Clients and bodyguards can be friends, you know. They can like each other. They don’t need to go around with a stick up their arse.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that what you want? For us to be friends?’

  ‘I thought we were moving towards that, yes.’

  Though he nodded, he didn’t reply, which infuriated her more. They’d been so close on Saturday. Heck, she shouldn’t remember it with such clarity, her heart shouldn’t flutter when she thought of it, but he’d called her, bolshie Kat Parker, enchanting. And now this? Was Zac Edwards, seriously hot film star, really upset that she’d wanted to remain his bodyguard rather than his date? It didn’t make sense. Unless his frosty show was about something else.

  ‘You do know I won’t say anything about what I heard on Saturday,’ she told him as the lift doors opened and she walked with him towards his suite.

  ‘Of course.’ They came to a halt outside his door and he leant against the wall. Debonair, smooth as hell. ‘There must be rules about that sort of thing. And despite evidence to the contrary, apparently you like to stick to rules.’

  Debonair, smooth, yet also pretty obnoxious right now. Choosing to ignore him, she put the key card in the lock and marched inside, doing her usual check. When she’d finished, she waved at him to enter. ‘I’ll see you here at 7.30.’

  Bristling with annoyance, and hurt more than she wanted to admit, she strode towards the door. ‘Wait.’ A beat later he added, ‘Please.’

  ‘Fine.’ She folded her arms as she turned to face him.

  The action brought a glimmer of amusement to eyes that had been cool and flat for the last few days. ‘I’m not sure I like your body language. It’s a little off-putting.’

  ‘Tough. What did you want? Because I’ve got a lot to do between now and 7.30.’

  ‘Yes. Sorry. I …’ His shoulders rose and fell, and his eyes slowly met hers. ‘I’ve spent the last week trying to convince myself I don’t want you. It’s not easy.’

  Oh God. She’d not expected that. ‘I know.’

  His eyes flared at her admission. Instead of taking the opening, though, he gave her a sad smile. ‘I’ll try to be less of a git about it from now on. See you later.’

  ‘Yes.’ As she walked back to the car park, she told herself this was exactly what she wanted.

  Funny, it didn’t feel that way.

  It felt even less like what she wanted a few hours later as she watched the actress he was filming with – Sophia somebody – and another woman flirt their pert little arses off in front of him. It made her wonder if he’d come here deliberately just to prove there were plenty of other women all too happy to date him. To jump into bed with him, from the look of it.

  She knew she had to ignore the darts of jealousy. To stop wondering what she and Zac would have been doing now if she’d asked Mark to replace her. Whatever the outcome, though, it would have been temporary. This job, proving to Mark and to herself she could handle it. That was her future.

  ***

  Zac stifled a yawn. Coming here had been a seriously bad idea. One hatched in desperation on the journey home when he’d found himself irked at Kat’s obvious disapproval of his one-night stand. Then even more irked, that he was irked. Her opinion of him shouldn’t matter so much. Determined to move past this rather terrifying obsession with Kat, he’d decided to accept Sophia’s invitation to join her and her friend at the club.

  So far all the evening had done, though, was remind him why he was so obsessed with Kat in the first place. Sophia and her friend were easy on the eye, pleasant enough to talk to, but they didn’t make his skin tingle, or his pulse race. They didn’t make him laugh or want to hang on every word they said.

  They didn’t interest him.

  The one who did was sitting at the other end of the bar, her attention bouncing between him and her phone. Occasionally she’d shake her head when a guy came up to her, no doubt to offer her a drink.

  ‘You should come for a visit to LA when filming is over.’ Sophia fluttered her eyelids at him. She had huge blue eyes, but he hankered for velvet brown. ‘I’ve got this amazing pad right on Malibu beach.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Because he had no intention of taking her up on her offer, he swiftly changed the subject. ‘Would either of you like another drink?’

 
He’d just given the order to the bartender when Kat appeared by his side. ‘Sorry to disturb you, but can I have a minute?’

  Any clever retort he might have come up with died the moment he looked into her eyes. ‘Of course.’ Nodding to the two ladies, he slipped off the bar stool. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’ve just had a call from Debs.’ She bit down on her lip, clearly agitated. ‘She’s scared the party she’s at is getting out of hand, so I need to go. I’ve called Mark and he’ll be here soon. Please don’t get yourself into any trouble between now and then.’

  He told himself it was the thought of escaping the women at the bar, and not the worry in her eyes, that prompted his next words. ‘Cancel him. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Her eyes strayed to the bar, and Sophia who was watching them with undisguised interest. ‘Stay and enjoy yourself.’

  ‘Who said I’m enjoying myself?’ Not, perhaps, the brightest move to let that slip, but there was too much pretence in his life already. ‘Give me a second to settle the bill and say goodbye.’

  Five minutes later they were bombing west down the motorway towards Windsor.

  ‘You really didn’t have to come with me.’ Kat’s profile looked strained as she focused on the traffic. ‘I can handle a bunch of stupid teenagers.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that?’

  There was a pause before she asked, ‘Were you really not enjoying yourself, because that isn’t the impression I had.’

  He leant back against the passenger seat. ‘I’m an actor, Kat. What you see isn’t always the truth.’

  She didn’t reply and his words were left hanging ominously between them. He wanted to take them back, to say something glib instead, like That’s why I’m a hotshot actor. Because then she might have smiled and given him a mouthy reply.

  And then things might have gone back to how they were before he’d started to fall for her.

  But no. He’d gone for something too close to home to be comfortable, for either of them.

  ***

  It was only when Kat pulled up outside a tall Victorian terrace forty-five minutes later, that she spoke again. ‘Stay in the car. I’ll just be a minute.’

  He gave her a searing look. ‘I realise you’re a bodyguard and I’m merely your client but Christ, Kat, don’t cut off my balls completely.’

  Not waiting for her reply, he dug in the glove compartment for the baseball cap and shades she insisted he keep there and jumped down from the Jeep.

  ‘I’m not cutting off your balls, you dumb arse,’ she hissed as he walked round the bonnet towards her. ‘I’m protecting you.’

  ‘Protecting me from whom, exactly? Because I don’t see the stalker following us out here, do you?’

  She gave him a look of disbelief. ‘You really want to have your name splashed all over the papers, associated with an out-of-control teenage party?’

  Her eyes flashed, her expression tightened, but she wasn’t the only angry party here. ‘Do you really think you need to tell me how to manage my own image?’ He jammed the baseball cap on his head, and the glasses on his nose.

  ‘Fine,’ she ground out. ‘But if there’s any manhandling needed, it’s to be done by me.’

  ‘Manhandling?’ He looked towards the house, where the heavy beat of rap music filtered through an open window. ‘Please tell me you’re not going in there in full combat mode.’

  ‘Of course not.’ She raised her chin. ‘Not straight away, anyway.’

  ‘Not at all.’ Kat’s obvious need to protect her niece, and to tackle anyone who got in her way, positively vibrated through her. Realising he had to go carefully, Zac placed his hands on her shoulders in a placatory gesture. ‘Debs is in there, yes? Frightened, no doubt, yet she won’t want to lose face in front of her friends. And that would definitely happen if her aunt bulldozed her way in and hauled her out.’

  ‘Bulldozed is way too strong.’ Kat narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening. ‘I just want to put the fear of God into the jerk who thought it was a good idea to bring alcohol to a party for fourteen-year-olds.’

  ‘Like that never happened at the parties you went to.’

  ‘Of course it did, but I grew up in a shit neighbourhood.’ Kat drew in a shaky breath. ‘This is Windsor, for crying out loud.’

  ‘And teenagers are teenagers, wherever they’re brought up.’

  Her lip curled in disgust. ‘Even in mansion houses?’

  ‘Yes.’ If only an alcohol-fuelled party had been the scariest thing he’d witnessed. ‘We’re doing this my way.’

  ‘Now wait a minute—’

  He’d done with trying to reason with her. ‘You have your skill set,’ he cut in. ‘And I have mine. I’m going to knock on the door and pretend to be an off-duty policeman. While I’m calmly pointing out how much trouble they could get in if they don’t quieten things down, you’re going to sneak in, find Debs and take her out of the back door. Then we’ll call the real police.’ When she stared at him blankly, he gave her shoulders a squeeze. ‘Agreed?’

  Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. ‘I guess that could work.’

  Hallelujah. Before she could change her mind, Zac marched off down the path and rang the bell.

  Chapter 12

  For once, Zac was the one driving. Kat had started towards the driver’s seat, her arm around a very subdued Debs, only to hear Zac curse, his expression hovering between incredulity and disgust.

  ‘You sit at the back with Debs,’ he’d ordered. ‘I only had one drink at the club, so I believe I can just about be trusted to get us back in one piece.’

  He was probably still in a funk from being asked to stay in the car. Or maybe it was the same funk he’d been in all week. I’m trying to convince myself I don’t want you.

  She felt a flutter deep in her belly. If that was the reason behind his mood, it was fair to say he wasn’t the only one trying to convince themselves.

  From the front seat, Zac cleared his throat. ‘Which house is yours?’

  ‘Number twenty. Red door. Wreck of a front garden that Debs is going to sort out this weekend.’

  Debs sat bolt upright. ‘No way.’

  ‘Yes, way. Your punishment for tonight’s shenanigans.’

  ‘That’s so not fair. I didn’t know they were going to be stupid.’

  ‘You knew older boys were going to be there.’

  She stuck out her bottom lip. ‘So?’

  ‘So, I hope you’ve learnt your lesson.’ As Zac pulled up outside, Kat touched a hand to her niece’s cheek. ‘You’re fourteen, Debs. Too young to be mixing with seventeen-year-olds.’

  ‘Yeah, well, boys my age are lame.’ Debs climbed down from the Jeep, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘And stop telling me what to do. You’re not my fucking mum.’ With that she ran up the path.

  Sighing deeply, Kat followed her, aware of Zac a few steps behind them. He should be where she could see him. Hell, he should still be in the club, chatting to the delightful Sophia, with Mark watching over him. Nothing about tonight seemed to be working out as planned.

  The moment Debs opened the front door, she scarpered inside and ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

  The sound of her door slamming reverberated through the house.

  ‘She’s not wrong,’ Zac said quietly, his tall frame blocking the front doorway. ‘I was pretty lame at fourteen.’

  ‘Yeah? And what about when you were seventeen? What was foremost in your mind then, when you’d had a skinful?’ The fear she’d felt ever since Debs had sent her that text was finally escaping the box she’d slammed it into. ‘No, it’s okay, no need to answer. I know exactly what boys think at that age. And I don’t want that for my niece.’ Damn, now her voice was shaking. ‘I want Debs to have a proper childhood. Not one sullied by growing up too fast, having sex too early with older guys not interested in anything else but their next lay.’

  Aware she’d said too much, Kat dropped her handbag onto the coffee ta
ble and then thrust off her jacket and threw it onto the sofa. She almost jumped out of her skin when a pair of arms circled her from behind. ‘Hey.’ He planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Tears welled and Kat blinked desperately. She was not going to cry. ‘Why are you sorry? I bet you weren’t getting girls drunk when you were seventeen.’ A strangled laugh left her throat. ‘God, you wouldn’t have to get them drunk. I bet even then they were flinging themselves at you.’

  His chin rested on the top of her head and when he spoke again, she could hear the smile in his voice. ‘I didn’t have any trouble getting a girlfriend, no.’

  ‘I bet you didn’t.’ Feeling too vulnerable for such an intimate embrace, she stepped away from him. ‘I used to hate guys like you. Posh rich guys with gleaming looks and a cocky attitude.’

  His answering smile was strained. ‘Then it’s a good job you didn’t know me back then.’

  She snorted. ‘Like we would ever have bumped into each other. My shitty estate was a world away from your manor house.’

  Another tight smile, and she wondered if he was embarrassed by his upbringing, angry at the way she’d pushed him away, or just annoyed at her jibes. Jibes that weren’t fair, because he’d never acted entitled with her, never treated her as anything other than an equal. ‘Sorry, that sounded really bitchy. I didn’t mean it as a dig. Just an observation.’

  He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets and giving her a quiet study. ‘If we had bumped into each other, I’d have wanted to get to know you, Kat Parker.’

  Oh no. She couldn’t handle him flirting. Nor could she handle the kindness in his eyes. Ignoring her quivering, squirming insides, she forced out a laugh. ‘If your official age is correct, it makes you two years younger than me, so I’d have been sixteen to your fourteen. I’d have eaten you alive.’

  He smiled, eyes still pressing hers. ‘And I’d have enjoyed every minute of it.’

  Holy shit, he was too good at this. Feeling herself flush, she turned and walked into the small open-plan kitchen, reaching for the kettle as if it was a lifeline. Distraction. That’s what she needed. ‘Do you want a drink?’