“Smile, Tiger. There’s the paparazzi,” he whispered in her ear, his mouth going a little too close to her neck. He saw how quickly she erupted in goose bumps. That made him come up with a plan. If he was going to be with Annie for the next few hours pretending to date, he was going to ham it up. Maybe she’d see him as someone worth taking a chance on. Maybe he could loosen her up enough to talk about that virgin thing.
With the newly formed plan, he placed his arm tight around her waist bringing her closer than necessary as the flashes and lights attacked them. With a fake smile she whispered, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Monroe?”
“Working, Tiger.”
“No. I’m working. You’re trying to cop a cheap feel.”
He stopped as they were about to step into the hotel where the gala was taking place. He turned to her and roughly pulled her flush against his chest. “This is my job. My job is to act. My job is to flirt with the cameras. Give them what they want. Sell tickets. You’re my prop today. So you do your work, but don’t let it interfere with mine.” He kissed the corner of her lips. She looked completely and utterly discombobulated. Maybe his girl liked a little roughness and maybe she liked having him take charge sometimes.
* * *
What the hell was wrong with him?
She was going to kick his ass if he didn’t stop trying to manhandle her. If they weren’t up to their eyeballs in paparazzi, she’d twist his arm and arm bar his ass. When he’d first seen her half an hour ago, she had forgotten for a minute that this was work. He looked so sexy in his black tuxedo and the way he looked at her made her want to forget it all. It made her want to be the delicate woman who worried about garter belts and fake eyelashes just so he could always look at her the same way.
But then he’d asked about her gun and they’d gone back to business.
She stayed close to him as he introduced her to people she’d seen on television a dozen times and tried not to act starstruck. He also introduced her to people she’d never heard of, except from her research the last week.
Joey had sent her a copy of the list of invites, and she’d looked each and every person up. Computers were her forte, and it didn’t take long to go into most of the hundred or so guests’ emails, bank accounts, and social media. Nothing seemed off, so she wasn’t too worried. The open venue, the shit oad of paparazzi, and the straggling fans hanging outside were what concerned her most. Also, there was a small gathering of protestors on the east corner of the street, but it seemed to be only about seven or so people and they were all holding signs and staying away. ICS had sent some men to keep an eye on that group, and as far she could tell, it was still under control.
They were standing by the bar when Julia and Lawrence approached. “Julia,” Rocco said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and then shaking hands with Lawrence. “Lawrence.”
“Nice to see you again,” Lawrence said, extending his hand to Annie and kissing the top of her palm.
“You too, Lawrence.” And then she turned to Julia. “Hello, Julia.”
“Hello, Annette.”
“It’s Annabelle,” Rocco corrected, his voice curt.
“Oh, sorry. Annabelle,” the starlet said sourly, and smiled disingenuously at Annie.
When they turned to greet others, Annie whispered to Rocco. “Seriously? She’s a cunt. How could you possibly ever have dated her?”
He stepped back, his eyes wide, and chuckled. “Well, that is one dirty mouth, Tiger.” He kissed her cheek with a loud smack. “I like it.”
She smiled cheekily. “So, what happens at these galas, exactly?”
“Well, I donate a ton of money to something. There’s actually a silent auction over there, let’s go look.” He led her toward the long tables. “And we rub noses with people who don’t give a shit about me, we have a good meal, drink, dance, and then go home.”
“Sounds fun.”
“How are you feeling, by the way?”
She moved her neck side to side. “I’m okay. A little sore. My shoulder stings but it’s not too bad. The bath helped a lot.” She reached up on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek, sweetly. “Thank you, Rocco. Really. It felt nice to be taken care of.”
“You already thanked me. It felt nice to take care of you. And I’d like to do it often, if you’d let me.”
She walked to the tables, looking down at the items being auctioned, contemplating what he was saying. The ball’s in your court, he’d said.
“See anything you like?” he asked.
She stopped and turned to him. “Yes.”
He looked down at the table, his eyebrows furrowed. “Yes? You see something you like? What? The couples massage?”
“No.” She waved off the items on the table. “No, not the auction. Forget the auction. Yes, I want to be with you. You said the ball’s in my court, that you’d like to take care of me . . . or whatever.” She felt so silly and awkward. “You know, if you still want to, I’m saying yes.”
He looked surprised and for a moment she was fairly certain he was going to call her crazy and run away, but a smile started slowly spreading across his face. His blue eyes shone and his dimple was out on full display. “I wasn’t expecting that. At least, not here, not now. But yes, of course, I still want you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
She let out a sigh. “Okay, so . . . yeah, okay, that’s good.” She looked back to the auction items.
He chuckled, grabbed her hand, and spun her around, causing her to yelp. He pulled her firmly against his chest and, in front of the entire gala, kissed her on the lips so fiercely she had to arch back.
“So, maybe the couples massage?” he suggested, which made her laugh.
“No. I hate being touched by strangers. It’s creepy.”
“You really are crazy, crazy.”
“Maybe a little,” she said. “Oh, how about this? You should bid on this.”
He looked at the painting and laughed. It was a painting in watercolors of a pig with wings and a halo.
“No. But how about this? This, I’m getting.” He pointed to another painting, also done in watercolors but she couldn’t tell what it was.
She bent her head to the right and then the left, “The colors are beautiful, but what is it . . . oh, it’s a tiger.”
“I’m getting it.” He grabbed a pen and put a number on the bid sheet.
“Wait! How much did you just—”
“I told you, I’m getting it, so don’t worry how much. Enough to ensure I win. Either way, it’s for a good cause.”
Her eyes kept staring at the canvas. It was beautiful, the way the colors blended together, and how the animal looked strong yet solitary. Memories of Yagana rushed back in. Yagana had given her a number of different little animals made from rice, but the tiger was the last one and it had happened just moments before the little girl was murdered.
“What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer, mesmerized by the painting. “Annie?”
“Sorry. Sorry. Uh . . . what’s next?”
“Do you remember anything about this morning? The things you said?”
“That I said?” Her brows furrowed. “Uh . . . no, not really, I mean, I’m pretty sure you saw me naked, but I prefer not to talk about that.” Was there something she should’ve remembered? Shit, what the hell had happened? She chewed on her bottom lip. “What else? What did I say?” She tended to ramble on when she was nervous, but when she wasn’t lucid . . . what craziness had slipped her lips?
She watched him avert his eyes and crack his knuckles. Shit. What the hell had she said? He cracked his knuckles when he was frazzled or introspective. She searched her memory bank. Glimpses, like still photos, played back: he handed her pills, he rubbed her back, he carried her to the bed. Shit. Shit. Shit. He had felt warm against her, had taken care of her, had smelled so delicious . . .
“You said that when I call you Tiger it makes you both sad and happy.”
Oh. Interesting. She’d ne
ver said that to anyone before. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel weird about having told him. Actually, it felt nice to share something with another person, even if it didn’t make much sense to him, it was still a little bit of her truth. Of her past. Of things she never spoke to anyone about.
He was looking at her expectantly but she wasn’t ready to go into all of that. “That’s a long story.”
“Will you tell me about it, later?”
“It’s depressing. I prefer to let it go.”
“I prefer to know,” he said sweetly, smiling down at her.
“Annie. Annabelle.” The voice was low and urgent behind her. She looked back, the hair on the back of her neck standing at attention.
“Ben?” Julia’s bodyguard was rushing to her and her whole body went on alert.
“We have a problem.” He didn’t say it loudly. They were trained not to cause panic, but the way he looked—tense shoulders, surveying eyes, rigid arms—there was definitely a crisis occurring somewhere.
She gave Rocco a hard look that she hoped told him to stay put before following Ben to the lobby area.
“This bag. It came out of nowhere.” There was a black backpack set against a marble column. It looked completely out of place in the formal setting. “It’s probably nothing, but . . .” Ben trailed off. She felt, rather than saw, Rocco following behind. Why couldn’t the man follow simple instructions?
Without touching the bag, she crouched down to inspect it closely. One of the handles had a patch with a yellow, blue, and red circle. “It’s the same emblem. The guy who threw the brick through the window had a tattoo with that same circle.” She stood. “Ben, get Julia and take Rocco too. I’ll call this in. Meet me in two minutes at the west emergency entrance.”
“Annabelle—” Rocco hissed.
“Out. Come on, hurry.” She pulled Rocco with her to the door, trying not to look panicked. “Please. Do as I say. No lip. This is my job. Get the hell out of here, right now. Go with Ben. For all I know this could be some sort of diversion.”
“What if it’s not? You can’t stay here. What if it’s a bomb?” The bag was dead center in the middle of the lavish lobby. It just sat in the marble floor looking out of place and ominous as hell. People walked past them as she stood up and looked down, Rocco standing close to her.
“I can’t leave all these people here,” she said quietly, not wanting to cause panic. She turned to Ben. “I need to call this in to the police and I need to get everyone out. You, Ben, need to get Julia and Lawrence out now,” she barked.
Before there was any additional protest, she ran back into the ballroom, phone in hand. “Joey, there’s an unidentified bag in the lobby. Get a team around the area. Call the cops. I’m clearing everyone out.”
Joey started throwing orders around while on the phone. “What kind of bag?”
“Black. Backpack. Canvas. Yellow, blue, and red circle patch on one of the straps, just like the tattoo from one of those kids.”
“Fuck. Okay, get out of there. Cops and SWAT are on their way.”
She ran toward the nearest security guard and explained what was happening, and he immediately began to mobilize. One of them ran to the stage were the band was still playing and took the microphone.
“Sorry to interrupt, folks, there seems to be a little problem. If you’d kindly make your way to the emergency exits.”
People didn’t move at first, all looking confused and then slowly a few began to disperse. The first police officers began to arrive and one jumped up on to the stage and made an announcement. “Need everyone out. Quickly. Be careful, but start making your way right now to the exits. There’s one to your right and one to your left. Please avoid the front.” Then other officers began to shuffle a confused mob out.
“Corporal Annabelle Clad of the US Army, I’m the one that called this in. I was here as a bodyguard and my colleague noticed the bag.”
The man extended his hand. “Captain Hill,” he said by means of introduction. “Let’s get you out of here. SWAT is checking on everything, we need to go outside.”
She followed the captain outside. “Another member of my team saw the bag. What caught my attention was the yellow, blue, and red circle on the strap. My client, Rocco Monroe, has been receiving threats.”
“I’ve seen it on the news.”
“There was some vandalism done to his property and the kids who did it had a tattoo that matched the symbol on the backpack. I’m pretty sure it’s all related.”
“We’ll look into it. As far as you know are the kids in jail?”
“They’re out on bail. My brother is the owner of ICS, where I work, and he confirmed it a few minutes ago. There must be a group of people in on this. That’s my thought, at least.”
The officer made some notes on a pad and nodded. “Thank you for your assistance. We’ve got it from here, Ms. Clad.”
“Here’s my card, please keep us posted.” She extended her hand and they shook hands like colleagues.
“Will do.”
Jax and Joey were out front speaking with other officers when she walked out. “You don’t answer your goddamn phone,” Joey barked when he saw her.
“I was kind of busy with a bomb!”
“And you were what . . . just hanging out? Waiting for it to detonate?”
“No, I was making sure everyone cleared out.”
“I swear to God, you’re going to give me a heart attack. Let’s go.”
She followed the others out. “So brief us,” Jax said.
“Nothing new to report. Black bag. Could be nothing. Could be something. I want to research that symbol a little more, though. Where’d Ben take Monroe?”
“They’re at ICS.”
The drive back to headquarters was quiet, Jax driving and Joey and Annie on their phones texting.
When they arrived, Rocco was pacing back and forth. “Woman, you are seriously going to give me a fucking heart attack.”
“Join the club,” Joey mumbled.
Confused, Julia chimed in. “So wait? Are you his bodyguard? I thought you two were dating. This makes more sense.”
Annie glared at the woman but decided it wasn’t worth an argument.
“I’d prefer we kept it low key, Jules. Can you do that?” Rocco asked, sweetly, although it looked as if he was biting his tongue.
“Of course. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Joey turned to Ben. “You can take Julia and Lawrence home. Stay close, no going out today until we know what was in the bag.” Julia huffed and whined as Lawrence escorted her out of ICS with Ben following closely behind, still alert.
“Since we don’t know whether the threat is directed at you personally or at the movie itself, I’d feel more comfortable if you stayed here at the compound.” Joey suggested to Rocco.
“No,” Rocco said flatly.
“Rock, Joey’s right on this one. It’s not safe.”
“I’m not going to be driven out of my own house.”
“Monroe—”
Annie stepped between the two tense men. “Let’s go have dinner nearby since we didn’t get to eat. Wait and see what the police say and then we’ll make a decision.”
Joey crossed his arms and shook his head slowly. “I don’t like it.”
“What’s new?” Annie replied, then turned to Rocco. “There’s an Italian restaurant right around the corner. We can walk.”
“Sounds good.” He took her hand, ignoring the way Joey was looking at them, and walked out.
He grasped her hand firmly and as soon as they were out the door he stopped, forcing her to turn. “Ow!” She pulled her hand away from his grip and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Now that we’re alone,” he said, “I have to tell you . . . I’m fucking pissed and scared and just fucked up in the head. You stayed behind. And before you say anything. I know it’s your job, I know you’re trained, but it doesn’t mean I like it.”
What the hell did he think she’d do?
She’d promised not to lock him out again, so long as he cooperated. But she’d never promised not to help save people in danger. Maybe the reason she hadn’t had a relationship after Derek wasn’t because she was scared to open up her heart again but because her work consumed her too much. Apparently men couldn’t handle her job. It had never really occurred to her. The only relationship she’d had was with Derek, and he’d understood military life because he was a military man. But for a civilian like Rocco, his urge to protect her trumped her need to save all the people who were in that room. And how selfish and fucked up it was that it felt good to be that important to him? That he cared that much for her, that he wanted to protect her and keep her out of harm’s way?
But it also scared the hell out of her, because she wasn’t made that way. She would always run into danger if it meant saving even one person. And she wasn’t sure what to do with that realization.
“I don’t know what to say, Rock.” She reached for him and ran her palm down his cheek. It had been the first time she’d initiated such an intimate touch. But she needed to touch him. He had to understand that she was feeling strong things for him, but that those feelings didn’t mean she’d stop doing what she needed to do to help others. “This is me. You’re going to have to accept that I’m the kind of girl who runs into danger, not away from it. The kind of girl who has a knife and a gun tucked in her clothes at all times.”
He didn’t move or even react to her touch. He just stood still like a statue. “I’m trying really hard, Annie. I really am.”
“Are you? Because we keep coming back to this same problem.”
He closed his eyes and melted a bit into her touch. Then he took her hand on his cheek and kissed her palm.
“Give me time to figure this out. It’s hard to be with a woman like you. And I don’t mean it in a bad way, Annie. I mean it in a fuck, when will I lose her, when will she get hurt way. If that makes sense.”
“I get it.” And she did. But he was going to have to come to terms with it. It wasn’t something she could change about herself. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
They sat in a small restaurant called La Nonna, in a corner table in the back. They were way overdressed, but for some reason, maybe because of the dim lights and the cheesy candlelight, it felt romantic.
Last First Kiss Page 13
