by Leah Braemel
He stifled a sigh and punched the button on the elevator, concentrating on watching the numbers over the elevator light up on their slow journey to the top floor. Until he heard the lock to 1202 snick open. He didn’t have to turn to know she was there, the air got lighter while the band around his chest tightened.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Despite his resolve not to look her way, his head turned as he walked toward the elevator. His steps faltered when he saw her in a pair of red plaid flannel pants, and a well-worn pink T-shirt. Dark smudges under her eyes revealed that she’d not slept any better than he had. But he’d bet she hadn’t lost sleep fantasizing about him the way he’d been about her.
“Good morning, Ms. Ramos. Will you be coming into the office this morning?” Where we can talk this out? Because I sure as hell don’t want you movin’ all the way to Miami.
“Good morning, Mr. Watson. I’ll be in later—I’ve a meeting with Chad.” Her voice was cool and collected. And far too distant for his liking. Hands off, it said with no room for misinterpretation. Trouble was, his dick didn’t want to listen. Maybe he’d ask to be driven straight to the zoo after all.
“Make sure you stop into my office—I’ll tell Sandy to interrupt whatever I’m doin’.”
Before she could respond, Kris stepped in front of Rosie, blocking Sam’s view. Kris was trying to protect Rosie, just like he would have—should have last night. “Let’s go.”
Phillips stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the garage. There was an uncomfortable silence on the ride down. Kris got into the driver’s seat of the limo while Phillips sat upfront and raised the barrier between front and back, leaving Sam isolated. Twenty minutes and innumerable turns later, Kris’s driving becoming more aggressive with each corner, they finally pulled into the visitor’s parking by Hauberk’s front door.
When he walked into the outer office, Sandy greeted him with a cup of coffee. “You look tired. You’ve got bags under your eyes.”
I might have slept better if you hadn’t told a few tales out of school, sugar. “Why don’t you come into my office?”
She trailed him into his office and sat down, flipping her notebook open, ready to take notes.
He closed the door behind her and sat at his desk.
“You’ve got a meeting at—”
“Yeah, I know. We’ll get to that in a minute. Right now I’d like to discuss what you said to Ms. Ramos last night.” The blood drained from Sandy’s face and her eyes went wide, making him feel like he was about to shoot Bambi.
“Thanks to your little jaw session last night, you nearly cost me a damned good CPO, and you exposed me—and Hauberk—to a potential sexual discrimination case.”
Sandy stared at the cleft in his chin but didn’t say anything.
He jammed his elbows on his desk as he leaned forward. “When I hired you last year, I told you that I expected that what was said in my office, anything that crossed my desk, was not to be discussed with anyone. Yet last night when you came to my place, you felt it necessary to mention a discussion—a private discussion—I had with Chad. A discussion that you had no right to mention to Miss Ramos or anyone else.”
Sandy’s bottom lip started to quiver, then her eyes flashed and she straightened, her head held high. “I’m sorry, Sam. But Rosie’s a friend of mine and she had a right to know she was being discriminated against based on her gender.”
He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Focus, damn it. Although she may have been looking out for a friend—a loyalty Sam couldn’t fault—Sandy had disclosed a private discussion with someone she shouldn’t have and that could be fatal to one of his employees if she talked to the wrong person in the future. Which meant he still had to make his point, even though he’d been just as much to blame for what happened last night.
“I wasn’t asking for a replacement because Ms. Ramos is a woman. If you had a problem with a decision of mine, I expect you to talk to me first. So if I discover you’ve ever discussed what is said in this office with anyone again, I will be forced to terminate your employment. Is that clear enough for you?”
Her backbone rigid, she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now let’s get back to today’s schedule. I know I’ve got the meeting with Chad and that Parman fella this mornin’, but what else is on the agenda?”
The rest of the morning fell back into its normal routine, Sandy confirming his appointments, discussing what needed to be done with the mail, and a thousand other pieces of paper she’d piled on his desk.
She was back at her desk, and Sam was plowing through his email when Chad walked in and shut the door.
“Sandy doesn’t look too happy.”
“Had to pull the big bad boss routine on her about what she said to Rosie last night.”
Chad made a noise in the back of his throat. “About last night…”
“I appreciate you convincin’ Rosie to stay. You think she might sue?”
Chad pursed his lips. “Hard to tell. Depends upon how you behave from here on in, I suppose. You let your dick lead you down the garden path last night, didn’t you, Sam?”
Oh, God, another lecture. What body part would be threatened this time?
“I know you’re attracted to her, but are you deliberately trying to scare her off?”
“Aw, hell, Chad, I wasn’t trying to frighten her. I’m attracted to her like the proverbial moth to the flame.”
“You fly into that flame and we’ll all go up. And last night you got more than a little singed. You want to tell me exactly what happened?”
“Nope.” He curled his fingers around his ballpoint, bending its stem. “We’d been talking—everything was cool between us. Then Sandy shot her mouth off and suddenly Rosie was all riled up. Damn, Chad, she’s so fuckin’ hot when she gets angry, so beautiful and I…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to block the memories of dragging her against him, kissing her, tasting her, trying not to remember the soft moans and pants she’d made as she’d come around his fingers. “Yeah, I fucked up big time.”
“I wouldn’t apologize to her quite that way, if I were you.”
“I’m hoping the couple dozen lilies I just asked Sandy to send might help. I don’t want to put her in a position of feeling like her job’s in jeopardy.” Or her life.
A raised eyebrow gave him Chad’s reply. “Sam, Rosie’s a smart, intuitive woman. Half the guys here have wet dreams fantasizing about her. But you can’t jump her bones like she’s one of your subs at the club. Cook her dinner. Put on some soft romantic music, watch a movie on that movie theatre you call a TV—and not Die Hard 4, all right? A chick flick like Sleepless in Seattle or some tearjerker like that. Underneath that prickly exterior she deserves to be pampered.”
“What are you now—a damned matchmaker? And by the way, right back at you—I haven’t seen you dating much since Lauren left.”
A muscle in Chad’s jaw twitched telling Sam he’d hit his target. “That brings me to my next point. Thalia asked me to remind you about the club’s board meeting at Cooper Davis’s party next month.”
“Aw, hell. I’d forgotten about that.” The headache that had been a shadow behind his eyes now felt like he’d been hit with a fifty pound anvil. One the blacksmith was still pounding with a sledgehammer.
“I’ll give her a call and confirm.” At least it meant he’d have something to do other than jerk off to the memories of Rosie’s pants and moans.
Thankfully the cameras installed in his place didn’t record anything unless he hit the panic button. Otherwise whoever was monitoring it would have gotten an eyeful of him whacking off.
Chapter Ten
The two-dozen lilies Sam had sent filled the air with a sweet fragrance. When they’d arrived, Rosie had fingered the handwritten card that came with them. The practical side of her said she should keep it should she need proof if she filed a lawsuit for sexual harassment. Her romantic side urged her to tuck the car
d away in a favorite novel, along with one of the blooms. She’d split the difference and tucked it into the forensics book she’d brought with her in case she found herself with nothing to do.
“Hey, Rosie?” Kris called through the closed bedroom door. “Sam’s ready to go and Scott’s waiting in the limo out front.”
“Thanks, Kris, I’ll be right there.” A quick check in the mirror confirmed she was presentable. At least her make-up covered the dark circles left from not sleeping the night before. A night spent staring at the ceiling remembering every touch of Sam’s lips and fingers. She glared at the bed as if it were responsible for her fantasies of him being beside her, over her, in her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at her reflection again. Why couldn’t this have been a casual event where she could have worn her gun and bulletproof vest beneath a jacket? But no, of course tonight’s fundraiser was black tie and all the women attending would be wearing designer dresses. She’d tried to convince Chad that she shouldn’t try to blend in, but let everyone know she was there as Sam’s guard.
He hadn’t bought it, of course. Instead he’d made a phone call, and two hours later, she was the proud owner of a stunning apricot off-the-shoulder Valentino courtesy of Hauberk Protection. Between the sleek design that highlighted the smooth skin of her neck and her cleavage, and the shimmering skirt with its slit high up on her thigh, she felt as if she were on a red carpet runway. She swished this way and that letting the silky fabric swirl around her legs while telling herself she was simply ensuring that the thigh concealment holster wasn’t visible.
Satisfied with her reflection, and feeling somewhat a fraud, she opened the door.
Kris wolf whistled. “Whoa momma, that dress is hot.” He made a little circle in the air with his finger. “Come on, baby, shake your moneymaker for me.”
“Bite me.” But she gave Kris an appreciative glance of her own. He’d left the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, the V exposing a tantalizing glimpse of the hair matting his chest above the beige bulletproof vest. Pity she didn’t go for hairy guys. She rethought her preferences when he moved from the doorway and his black pants hugged his ass. If she knew how to wolf whistle, that ass deserved one.
Andy snickered under his breath. Damn, he’d caught her ogling Kris. “Don’t forget your tie, Skippy.”
Kris rolled his eyes. “It’s in my pocket. I’ll put it on in the limo. You ready, Rosie?”
At her nod, Kris knocked on Sam’s door while Rosie teetered her way toward the elevator and inserted the key to bring it straight to the penthouse. If it came down to a footrace, she’d have to kick off the four-inch stilettos the store had sent to accompany the dress. She’d never be able to justify spending her paycheck on a pair of Mahnolo Blahniks, but now she had them on, she was in love.
Of course the sparkly triple teardrop diamond earrings and matching pendant Sam had sent over had to go back at night’s end. He’d probably convinced some jeweler to loan them to him for the night the way the stars did for the Oscars. She had to admit, although she’d initially thought all the bling overkill, once she’d put on the dress, the diamonds made the outfit. It wasn’t as if the earrings, pendant or even the tennis bracelet dangling on her wrist would stop her from pulling her gun. Same with the touch of perfume she’d dabbed behind her ears. They were simply window dressing, letting her fit in with his crowd.
Before Kris could knock on Sam’s door, it opened and Sam filled the doorway. When their eyes met, a snapping electrical current snaked between them, bound them for a long minute. Kris and his excellent ass disappeared. All she could see was Sam in his crisp white silk shirt, magnificent black tux and shiny Guccis.
Accompanying him tonight, especially wearing a dress that let her feel so feminine, was a bad idea on so many levels.
“Evenin’, Ms. Ramos.” His smooth southern accent washed over her in an intimate caress.
“Mr. Watson.” While she congratulated herself on her cool neutral tone, she wondered if he could see how hard her nipples were beneath the thin fabric of her dress. Could he smell her arousal or sense how wet she was getting watching him stroll down the hallway toward her? She had to pinch the inside of her forearm to remind herself that she was supposed to be guarding him, protecting him from whoever might want to harm him, not indulge in her own sexual fantasies.
When she followed the two men into the elevator, she concentrated on her reflection in the shiny metal of the elevator doors, working hard not to reveal how turned on she was getting just by his fragrance. What was that cologne he wore? Whatever it was, it permeated all her senses and left her knees weak.
It took every ounce of control not to wrap her arms about his waist and bury her nose into his chest. As the elevator descended, she let her eyes drop, glancing askance at his hand hanging casually at his side. His thumb fiddled with a gold band he wore on his pinkie, twisting it this way and that. Remembered those long talented fingers as they’d thrust into her until she’d seen stars.
Sam shifted, his arm grazing her breast. When she looked up, she realized he was using the metal in the doors to watch her. The edges of his lips curled up as their eyes met.
Before she could look away, Kris stepped between her and the reflection and the elevator glided to a stop. The doors opened and Kris scanned the foyer before allowing them to exit.
“Evenin’, Max. You workin’ late tonight?” Sam shrugged on the jacket he’d folded over his arm. Damn, none of the men tonight could match him, Rosie decided, watching the wool hug his shoulders. And though Kris’s ass was damned good-looking, Sam’s eclipsed it. She stifled a giggle. Could one moon eclipse another?
Max placed a slip of paper in the book he was reading and closed it. “Yes, sir, Mr. Watson. With Mr. Miller wanting two people to guard the desk now, they were a man short, so I volunteered.”
“How’s your son doin’?”
A pained expression flickered across Max’s face. “They measured him for a new leg yesterday. They say he’ll be able to walk without a limp with the prosthetics they have these days. But it’s…” Max cleared his throat. “He’s doing a lot better knowing Cindy and little Max are taken care of.”
Sam nodded. “Glad to hear it. You be sure to let me know if they need anything more, okay?”
“I sure will, Mr. Watson. And thanks again.”
She followed Sam out the door, scanning the street as he climbed into the limo. Kris held the door open for her, waiting until she’d sat in the seat facing Sam. She’d deliberately chosen not to sit beside him, but now regretted it. Having to face him was worse. She looked out the back window for a tail as the limo pulled into traffic.
“What happened to Max’s son?” she asked two blocks later.
“His Humvee was hit by a remote controlled IED in Iraq. Took off his left leg below the knee.”
From the sounds of it, Sam had taken care of his family—probably monetarily, but Rosie would have bet he’d arranged a lot more. Flights, daycare, housing. Anything they’d needed that they couldn’t get through the Armed Forces.
Damn, why couldn’t he be a sonovabitch she could despise?
Another block passed before Sam broke the silence. “You didn’t come to my office today.”
“There wasn’t a need.” She’d made sure to stay away from it, especially after Sandy had given her the cold shoulder.
“From the way you’re avoiding looking at me, I’d say there was. You wanna take a kick at me or something?” He glanced down at her feet. Did he realize she’d raced out and had a pedicure—something she seldom indulged in? “Those stilettos look like they’re plenty sharp enough to do some damage.”
She crossed her feet at the ankles, shifting them to the side as she told herself to ignore the silly thrill that he’d noticed her shoes. “They aren’t very practical, but my cross-trainers wouldn’t have gone with the dress.”
Sam pulled a cigar from his pocket, looked at it and then stuck
it back in its place. “I wanted to apologize for my actions last night, Rosie. I can only plead temporary insanity and throw myself upon your mercy.”
“Thank you.” She tucked an errant hair behind her ear, then clasped her hands together in her lap when she remembered how Chad had said the night before about her putting out non-verbal signals.
Sam stretched his arm across the back of the seat. “But I meant what I said last night, Rosie. I would like to get to know you better.”
“Considering I’m in charge of your protection, I think it would be inappropriate for us to pursue any sort of relationship.” Damn it, why couldn’t he have said this three months ago?
His brows together in a dark slash. “You’re not the only one guarding me. Walters, Campbell and Phillips won’t drop the ball.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I promise I won’t force you to do anything, Rosie. How our relationship progresses will be entirely up to you. But you can’t deny there were sparks between us last night. Just give me a chance to prove myself.”
Should she give him a chance to fan the flames that threatened to ignite into a wildfire? But when he walked away, and he would when the fire burned out, she’d be a pile of ashes. “I’ll think about it.” Three more blocks passed before she broke the silence. “I never thanked you for arranging the loan of the jewelry.”
“It looks good on you.” He settled back in the seat and folded his arms over his chest as his eyes flicked down her, lingering on her cleavage.
It was possible he was examining the necklace, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t his main focus. That knowledge and the heat in his expression, sent a hot shiver in a slow crawl up across her breasts until they ached.
