Guarding Him

by Kori David

  So, it was with some surprise that he heard heels on the stairs. He turned and nearly swallowed his tongue. The dress was a shimmery silver that dipped modestly in the front, but when she saw that he stared, she turned to show him the rest of the dress. The back was cut out in a heart shape that covered her shoulders but plunged so far down that Ian was positive that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She couldn’t be. Her make-up was expertly applied and so subtle that it made her eyes glow. She’d styled her short hair into soft curls that begged to be tousled—while in bed.

  “Will this work?” she asked.

  “It will have to,” he replied. Her lips quirked at his dry tone. Hell, he could have told her that she looked terrible, and he doubted it would’ve bothered her. The woman he was desperately trying to think of as an annoyance in his life was a surprise at almost every turn. From her teasing to her matter-of-fact handling of his attempted dismissal, he didn’t know what to expect, and he’d only spent three hours with her.

  “Aren’t you going to ask where I’m hiding my gun?”

  How she did that, he didn’t know, but it was exactly what he’d been thinking. He decided that if she was hiding a gun, he didn’t want to know where. Nicolette Montgomery gave him thoughts he wasn’t sure how to deal with. Women fell into two categories—family and those who enjoyed sex as much as he did. With no illusions. He wasn’t interested in anything but his company at this point in his life, and the women he spent time with felt the same. He preferred career women with as much drive and ambition and as little time as him for a relationship.

  “As intriguing as that question could get, I don’t think I want to know.”

  She grinned—more of a feline stretching of her lips than an actual smile, and her eyes held a solid dose of mischief. He knew she enjoyed making him uncomfortable, and worse, she seemed to know just which buttons to push.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, losing the grin, “I’m quite good at my job, armed or not.”

  Which didn’t exactly answer his unspoken question, but since he’d already begged off the answer, he couldn’t exactly ask flat out what she was going to do to a potential assailant in that dress. And heels. Seduce him, maybe—and everyone around her.

  The limo showed up, and Nic checked the driver out and then did a quick search inside. Nodding when she was happy, they both got inside. The ride was short and made in silence. Not uncomfortable, but Ian felt like he should have said more. But then, he was used to being the quiet one. He usually went to these things with a date, and he’d found most women were content to prattle on about anything that popped into their heads, leaving him to his thoughts and an occasional word to show he’d been listening. Nic seemed quite content in the quiet, looking out the window and scanning the passing streets with a vigilance Ian was beginning to admire.

  “You don’t talk much,” she said. “My guess is that you’re not exactly sure what to do with me. I’m not a date, and I’m not an employee—it puts you in an awkward place.”

  Nailed it. Again. Did the woman have a crystal ball as well as a gun? “Something like that. What would you suggest?”

  Her lips quirked, “Treat me like a date. It will add to the illusion that we’re lovers and make my job easier. I’ll smile and gush about your business, and you can introduce me as your interim assistant with a wink and grin to your colleagues.”

  The business-like tone made what she proposed sound demeaning somehow. “And you’re willing to go along with that? It doesn’t bother you what they say or infer about you?”

  “Is it ruffling those chivalrous feathers?”

  He wasn’t sure what his problem was because he usually didn’t care what anyone else thought. But it bothered him that those colleagues might think less of her because of the role she would play. “I guess we’ll play it by ear.” It was all he could think to say as the limo stopped in front of the Natural History Museum.

  “This is a great venue.”

  Ian looked at the museum. They’d never used this one before, and honestly, he never really cared where it was. This night was about the police officers, not about his preferences. “Isobel normally sets this up, and she always manages to pick nice locations.”

  “Well, let’s get this party started,” Nic said.

  The gray-haired driver was around to open the door, and he helped Nic out. If he was overly solicitous, Ian couldn’t really blame the older guy. Watching his bodyguard do anything was a distraction, and in that dress—he might as well concede that he wasn’t likely to have her on his arm for long.

  Inside, soft music played, and members of the San Francisco police department milled around, most in uniform. There were women in an array of colored dresses, as well as dignified men of the community. Some were politicians, some were businessmen, and some were old San Francisco money. Those were the men and women who made the deals and controlled a good deal of commerce in the city.

  “Ready to swim in shark-infested waters?” he said as they walked into the main room. Her arm snaked through his, and her smile turned bright.

  “What’s our goal for the evening?” she asked.

  “Are we discussing tactics?”

  “I know that deals are often made or finalized at these things, so in order to be effective, I need to know who your target is.”

  When she looked up into his face and nodded, he forgot why he was there. Giving a mental shake to loosen the grip she had on him, he nodded toward the other side of the room. An older man with a shock of white hair stood beside a beautiful woman of roughly the same age in a deep emerald green dress. The diamonds she wore alone would fund his next three years of projects.

  “Retired Naval Admiral Henry Harris. He’s the one in the tux with tails.”

  Nic nodded as they entered the room. “He was a consultant on the Star Wars project when it was in the planning stages, correct?”

  Ian was impressed—knocked off his feet, truth be told, but he kept his tone neutral. “He was a big supporter of the project and has been asking to see some of my specs. I wanted his opinion and support.”

  “He still has the ear of key members of the Oval Office?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  She squeezed his arm and moved closer. “Then let’s run the gauntlet and get to him.” She winked up at him, and he knew they’d garnered some stares, standing at the entrance staring at each other.

  “You look amazing, Nic,” Isobel said, coming up beside them. “I had a feeling that color would be fantastic on you.”

  Ian looked at his equally stunning sister, noticing that she wore a scarlet red dress with her hair pulled back in a smooth bun. He also noticed that at least half the men in the room were openly staring at the two women now on his arm. His sister on the left, his—whatever role Nic was playing—on his right.

  “Isobel,” Nic gushed, “you look ravishing.” Her voice had taken on a tone that fit right in with the fake society women that flocked to these things.

  His sister threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, dear, you’re going to be fun to watch.”

  Ian wasn’t sure what to do. The quiet woman from the limo had suddenly turned into a high society girl—one who knew how to flirt and how to manage small talk. She was vivacious and sounded sincere as she deftly directed them through the crowd with the skill of a ninja. She complimented the women lavishly and yet managed to include the men in her attention.

  “I even know which fork to use at dinner,” she whispered as they moved to speak to the Admiral. “Ma’am, I have been admiring your dress all evening,” she said to the Admiral’s wife. “Who is your designer?”

  And just like that, introductions were made, and he was basically alone with the Admiral. “Glad to see you could make it tonight, sir,” Ian said.

  “Couldn’t disappoint the wife. She loves these things,” he said with a smile. It widened when he looked at his wife in an animated conversation with Ian’s bodyguard. “Been watching you since you arrived, and
your gal is a keeper.”

  Ian turned to see Nic laughing with the Admiral’s wife. “She’s my new Admin. Assistant.”

  “Well, she’s good. She worked the room until she got you here.”

  “I didn’t think she was that obvious,” Ian laughed lightly. “And I was the one she towed along. Even my sister was lost in the shuffle.”

  “I would have liked to have had two of her back in my Washington days. She was smooth and gracious, but by the middle of the room, I knew you wanted to talk to me. And that’s only because I’ve been in the game for a long time. I’ve seen some professional operators work a room, and your girl has talent. Not bad on the eyes, either.”

  “I try not to notice.”

  The Admiral chuckled. “It is rather cliché, I suppose, but I prefer to think of it as a fortuitous meeting.” He nodded toward the women. “You know I met my wife in Washington. She was my aide for about six months before we couldn’t keep our hands off each other any longer. And after forty years, she’s still the best thing ever to happen to me.”

  Ian envied the man and the love he heard in his gruff voice. He stole a look at Nic and thought it was going to take some effort not to think about her in that way. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “Damn straight, and since I know very well that you’re currying my favor for your project, I’ll give you an unsolicited opinion. Because I can.” He looked at Ian with a serious face. “Don’t let that one get away. I have a sense about people, and she’s one you want in the foxhole with you.”

  Nic turned with a smile, “Please, excuse me, gentlemen, I need to find the powder room.”

  “It’s toward the back, behind the Mammoth,” the admiral said.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll be back soon.”

  Ian watched as she walked away because damn, she looked great coming or going. Then he noticed that he wasn’t the only one watching. Most of the men in the room, and a good portion of women as well, watched her. He was good at reading faces, and they ran the range from lust to envy to pure admiration. Then he shook his head and turned back to the knowing look on the Admiral’s face.

  Time to think about business. “When can we expect that meeting?”

  * * *

  Nic knew she was being watched as she made her way to the bathroom. Most of the looks she’d garnered were harmless enough, the typical male looks and a couple of jealous female eyes—but one set had anger and hate mixed in. It was the reason she’d moved away from Ian and the admiral. This confrontation needed to happen sooner rather than later, and the bathroom was a decent enough place to afford some privacy.

  Nic liked to know what she was up against as quickly as possible, and if looks could kill, she’d have been dead the moment she walked into the room. Nic slipped inside and checked the stalls. Empty. This was good. She took up position on the far end, back against the wall, and waited. Her patience was rewarded a few minutes later.

  She was a redhead, like herself, but while Nic was strawberry blond, this woman had deep auburn hair that might or might not have been from a bottle. She was average in size and porn-star in measurements. A grimace turned her mouth down, and with her upturned nose, it gave her “resting-bitch-face.” She’d stopped at the door when she noticed Nic leaning against the wall.

  “So, is this going to be a threat or a warning?” Nic started since the woman seemed at a loss for words.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes darting to the stalls.

  Oh, the games women played. It got old and always went one of two ways. “Well, you’re either here to threaten me if I don’t stay away from Ian or you’re going to warn me—woman to woman—that’s he’s no good and will hurt me. So, I’m wondering which one it is?”

  It was a little humorous to see the wind sucked out of her. Her light blue eyes widened, and her mouth tightened infinitesimally. She straightened her shoulders, and her chin came up. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you at one of these things before.”

  “By all means, the niceties must be observed. I’m Nicolette Montgomery. And you are?”

  She tossed her hair. “Leigh Ashmore.”

  “You say it like it should mean something to me. I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are, only that you’ve been firing poisoned arrows at me since I walked into the room. So, say what you want and get it out before you choke on it.”

  “He’ll come back to me, you know. He always does.”

  Her lips pinched, and the color was high on her cheeks, but she couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming. Nic knew she was making Leigh angry with her nonchalant tone and relaxed posture, and it showed on her face. Nic shrugged and shot a bored look back at her. “So?”

  “So, don’t get comfortable with him. Gold-diggers like you are a dime a dozen.”

  “Why do you assume I’m a gold-digger?” Nic was genuinely curious, as it wasn’t something she’d ever been accused of before. It was almost laughable, but she kept it on the inside—no sense driving the little lady to violence if it could be avoided.

  “You have some taste,” she said, looking over the dress with barely concealed envy. “But you’re clearly new to the scene and don’t know the rules.”

  “This, I’ve got to hear. What are the rules, Princess?”

  The nickname made Leigh’s lip curl. “Men like Ian aren’t about marriage. At least not yet. They’re looking for someone in their own social circle to play with, and you don’t make the cut. Do yourself a favor, and don’t embarrass the rest of us.”

  She couldn’t help it; Nic burst out laughing. “Oh, honey, that was a great speech. Do you practice that in the mirror?”

  “Listen, bitch—,” she hissed, but Nic cut her off with a wave of her hand.

  “Don’t worry so much. You can have him back when I’m done with him.” Nic pushed away from the wall and walked closer to the fuming redhead. “Sounds like you have to say this often because your delivery is quite flawless. Unlike your face.” Nic pointed at the mirror and watched as Leigh turned her head, taking in the red dots covering her chest and neck. “I’ll leave you to fix your make-up, but I hope to see you again soon. This was fun.”

  Nic sashayed toward the door, imagining that she was Mae West, minus those great curves. Ms. Leigh Ashmore, she left gaping in the mirror. This wasn’t the first time she’d been cornered on a job by a jealous woman, and every time was a little different. She shook her head—gold-digger. Wait until she told Kei about that.

  Back in the main room, Nic looked over to where she’d left Ian, only to find him glancing around. When he zeroed in on her, the relief on his face was noticeable. She moved toward him, and he met her halfway.

  “Is everything alright?” he asked.

  “Just fine,” she replied. “Is there some reason a trip to the ladies’ room might cause you to worry?”

  “I thought I saw…” he trailed off.

  Nic rolled her eyes. “You saw Leigh Ashmore come in after me, bent on a catfight?”

  His eyebrow shot up. “You don’t play games, do you?”

  “Only board games. And before you ask, my feminine sensibilities are fine as well. Leigh wanted to inform me that you’ll go running back to her as soon as you’re done with me.”

  “And what did you tell her?”

  Nic reached up and adjusted Ian’s tie, leaning in and smelling the spicy cologne he wore. To anyone watching, it was an intimate little scene, and further increased the chance that they’d be mistaken for lovers. “I told her that she could have you as soon as I was done fucking you.”

  “Jesus, Nic.”

  Her little joke backfired as his scent wrapped around her, and his body heat warmed her palms. She could feel the sleek muscle hidden under his very proper suit, and her fingers curled lightly, nails scraping unconsciously against him. He flexed, and the muscle in his jaw jumped. The room faded, as did her amusement over the jealous woman in the bathroom.

  Damn.

  This was bad. His eyes looked
like liquid silver this close, and his head bent toward her—mere inches from her mouth. Nic blinked and pulled away slowly. This wasn’t a date; this was work—even if her breasts tingled and her pulse had kicked up. Head in the game, Montgomery, she scolded.

  “Were you finished with the admiral?”

  Ian nodded, still looking at her intently. “I’ve got a meeting scheduled with him and one of the visiting cabinet members from the Department of Defense on Monday.”

  “Great. Who are we stalking now?”

  “Stalking isn’t the term I would have used.”

  “That’s because you’re thinking of the creepy version. Think of it like hunting. We’re making our way steadily and deliberately toward a specific target.”

  “The admiral was the only person I needed to see tonight.”

  Nic nodded. “Good, now tell me about the little Ms. Ashmore.”

  Ian stiffened at her side. “I’d rather not.”

  “I’m not asking for the horny details. I’m asking about how it ended or if it ended. She made it sound as if you have an on-again-off-again kind of thing.”

  Music filled the room as a small chamber orchestra began to play. Dinner would be served soon, but for the moment, it was cocktails, mingling, and dancing. Ian faced her in a quick move and pulled her close, then proceeded to dance her out into the middle of the floor. She fell into step with him as he waltzed them around in a circle.

  “It ended more than a year ago and has not resumed at any point since.”

  Ian swung her out and then back toward himself so that she was plastered up against him. She laughed and moved with him, knowing what the picture they presented was. “So angry,” she whispered. “Clearly, she still inspires some passion from you.”

  Nic goaded him because she wanted to know what happened and whether he still had feelings for the odious woman. He’d go down several pegs in her estimation, and maybe she hoped he would, so she could be free to focus on the job. The way he stared at her made it hard to concentrate. Those eyes bored into her, searing her lips when they touched on them and making her warm in places that were flying commando in the damn dress.