The Socialite and the Bodyguard

by Dana Marton

  Kayla was nearly vibrating in her seat next to him.

  The judge was ready to make his decision. “Would the standard poodle please step out? The beagle. The rottweiler.”

  The dogs ran another round, led by their handlers. And the judge nodded at last. “In that order,” she said, and the audience broke out in a cheer.

  Kayla had been cool toward Nash all morning, but now she jumped up and threw herself into his arms again. She had no idea what she was doing to him. She couldn’t know that he was cross-eyed with lust if he as much as looked at her. She was pushing him closer and closer to the edge with all this touching. She gave him a brilliant smile as she drew back. Then she pushed away as fast as she had jumped him and ran toward the stage where Tom was accepting a large silver cup and a big blue ribbon on Tsini’s behalf.

  Nash swore and dashed after her. “You wait for me.”

  “Sure.” She ran faster.

  He had half a mind to throw her across his shoulder and carry her back to her room. Except that he was beginning not to trust himself if he needed to put his hands on her. Somewhat of a problem, seeing how he was her bodyguard. He needed to get his head on straight.

  The rest of the afternoon was spent attending celebrations and giving interviews. Since Tsini had won Best in Show, Kayla decided to attend the closing gala that evening, which signaled the end of the competition. And he didn’t try to stop her. The gala was their last event at the show. The only thing left for the morning were some organizational meetings where the membership could vote on a number of issues. Kayla had already decided not to attend. They were flying out in the morning and would be home by noon.

  Then his assignment would be over.

  And Nash was no closer to catching the bastard who wanted to get to her. That thought practically killed him as he watched Kayla do the victory dance with Tsini again.

  NASH LOOKED breathtaking in his rented tuxedo. He’d insisted on being her escort to the closing gala and Kayla didn’t argue with him. She didn’t want to. Truth was, she wanted to feel his strong arms around her.

  He was tall, his dark hair gleaming in the candlelight, his dark gold eyes focused solely on her. Always on her. She tried to remind herself that he only watched her because she was paying him to do exactly that.

  But she hadn’t paid him to kiss her in that pool or do what they’d done in the shower the night before. His desire for her had been unmistakable.

  What did he want? Experience showed that nobody wanted her just for herself. They wanted the lifestyle, the attention, the chance to come into the public eye. She’d been in relationships—not nearly as many as the tabloids suggested, but enough to have her heart broken over and over again. She didn’t want to go there, not with Nash.

  He was different from any other man she had ever met. He was more real, tougher, larger than life. If she gave herself to him, he would consume her completely. There’d be nothing left of her when it was time for him to go. And he would go. On another assignment, or back to whatever team he’d joined after the marines.

  She was glad that they hadn’t gotten completely carried away the night before in the gym. Okay, part of her was glad. Another part of her would have loved to have finished, to have that memory. But without that, maybe, eventually she could forget him. Right. When rottweilers grew long tails with puffs on the end, got dressed up in pink tutus and danced the waltz around the show ring.

  “Champagne?” Nash asked next to her.

  The ballroom swirled with people, networking, dancing, celebrating the end of another successful show.

  “Thank you, but no.” Two glasses were her limit these days. She needed to keep a clear head, especially now, especially with Nash.

  They were the only two people left at the table. She’d sent Mike off to chat up the brunette he’d been staring at through the whole show. Somebody deserved to have a little fun. Just because she was definitely reining in her hormones, it didn’t mean everybody on her team had to be celibate.

  He didn’t go far, just one table over. And she felt safe with Nash, although his nearness, his masculine scent, his steady gaze had her ready to jump out of her skin every time he turned to her with yet another question.

  “Let’s dance,” she said without thinking it through, just wanting to get moving.

  “I don’t dance.” He blinked. “What are you grinning at?”

  “First time you admitted you can’t do something.”

  “I can’t do a lot of things.”

  “Such as?”

  “Sing.”

  “What else?”

  “Can’t play any musical instruments.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Pretty much,” he said, deadpan.

  She actually believed him. “What do you say we try widening your circle of competence tonight?”

  He drew a slow breath as he considered her. And all of a sudden she itched to get him out onto the dance floor. He was tough and gruff and solid as a rock. She wanted to see what he would be like at a disadvantage, wouldn’t have minded having the upper hand just once for a change.

  He rose without a word and extended his hand to her.

  And drew plenty of female attention from all around the room.

  She put her hand in his and came to her feet, not one hundred percent sure that she was doing the smart thing here, but going with it anyway. Too late now to turn back.

  Then they were on the dance floor. He put his arms around her, keeping a respectable distance. Around them, cameras flashed. She’d already posed with people for pictures and signed autographs when they’d first come down, but seeing her on the dance floor with a gorgeous mystery man drew everyone’s attention again.

  Some of those photos would be in next week’s tabloids. She tried not to let that bother her. She needed to take it as a fact of life and move beyond.

  Nash was doing some kind of a bear shuffle.

  She stifled a grin. “You kind of step like this, then step like this, then do a quarter turn and repeat it again.”

  “Hmm.” He didn’t look as though he thought that was going to make a difference, but gave it a try anyway. And kept trying until he got better.

  “Not bad.”

  Although, once he didn’t need to keep his full attention on his feet, he was giving all that attention to her. She was in his arms, their eyes—and lips—neatly lined up, thanks to her impossible heels. His amber gaze trapped her.

  “Not bad,” he echoed her words and gathered her a little closer.

  They danced that dance, then the next. She was growing breathless and it had nothing to do with the beauty of the music. They were so close. The look in his eyes said that if they were in private, he’d be inside her already. Her knees trembled, every cell in her body needing him.

  Then that song was over and the lights went out without warning.

  Nash practically wrapped his body around hers in a protective gesture. He moved them forward immediately, out of the last position where they’d been seen. She felt him reach for his gun at his back.

  “When I say now, get down,” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

  Her blood raced. Her heart pounded in her chest. She stayed close to his solid bulk, scared, but trusting him to take care of her. With all the uncertainty around her, he had become the one steady thing she counted on, she realized now, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  But instead of danger, another song came next, one sung by the people in the far corner then spreading through the crowd.

  “Happy birthday…”

  Then she saw lights, too. Flickering candles on a giant cake that was rolled into the middle of the dance floor. White frosting, decorated with chocolate paw prints going all around the layers.

  “Happy birthday to Laura Wolfson, our fabulous president,” the show chair was saying.

  A chorus of “Happy Birthday!” followed. People cheered.

  Relief
rushed through her.

  Nash relaxed next to her and stashed his gun away. He didn’t release his grip on her, though. The adrenaline rush that came with expecting an attack switched back to instant heat and awareness.

  The birthday girl was giving a thank-you speech as she got ready to blow out her candles. Kayla couldn’t process the words. All she could hear, think and feel was Nash.

  “I forgot to tell you about this one other thing I can’t do,” he said close to her ear. “I can’t seem to resist you.”

  And then he kissed her under cover of the darkness. His effect on her was instant and irresistible. She melted against him despite her best intentions. And got lost.

  Her head reeled when he pulled back.

  She blinked hard and forced herself to speak. “Actually, um—I decided that whatever it is that’s going on between us, we should just ignore it.” Brave words, but her fingers were still curled around his biceps.

  “Good luck with that,” he said, then kissed her again.

  Already, his firm lips on hers were as familiar as if they belonged there, his hands on her, welcome. Her body went into instant meltdown. She was weak with wanting him, and he’d barely even touched her yet. They fitted together as if they’d been made for each other. As different as they were in every other area of their lives, in passion they were a perfect match.

  This was where the real danger lay. Here was a man she could lose her heart to. Five years ago, she would have. She would have already been a goner by now. But she’d learned a lot as she got her heart broken a couple of times, watched her friends lose inheritances to bad decisions, as they—along with she—had been dragged through the mud in the media.

  Yes, she’d learned a lot. And the number-one thing she’d learned was that people in the public eye shouldn’t give their hearts, they shouldn’t believe in romance. Because every time they did, it ended in disaster.

  But to resist this man would take a lot more than smart thinking.

  Chapter Seven

  “Congratulations on Tsini. I still can’t believe she pulled that off,” her uncle was saying on the phone, catching her just after she got in from the airport with her staff, her luggage still in a pile in the middle of the den. He’d been in Europe on business for the last two weeks. It was the first time they’d connected since before she’d left for Vegas. “We’ll go out and celebrate when I get back.”

  “That would be nice. Everything’s going well over there?” She rubbed her forehead. A low-grade headache pulsed back and forth across her head, from temple to temple.

  “A couple of meetings left.” He was negotiating a deal to use Landon’s Popcorn exclusively in the largest movie-theater chain in the European Union, a major coup that would mark the company’s most significant overseas deal to date.

  Kayla’s grandfather had started the company then left it to his two sons, Kayla’s father, William, and her uncle, Albert. Those two took a flourishing small company and turned it into a multimillion-dollar global business.

  Uncle Al had no children. William had been preparing his eldest son, Lance, to succeed him at the helm. But Lance had died a year after their father. And if they wanted to keep the company in family hands, the three remaining members had to step up to the plate.

  “Pretty soon, our popcorn will be winning over movie audiences all over Europe.” Her uncle sounded pleased with himself.

  “And once people taste it at the movies, they’ll want it at home,” she responded. Movie-theater popcorn was their spearhead into new markets, but since seventy percent of popcorn was consumed at home, the real goal was to seduce that segment to their brand.

  “But to get that, we need a bigger presence here. European headquarters. We’ll need a VP of European Operations. I was thinking of you. Something else to talk about when I get back.”

  She was too stunned to respond. Vice President. The acknowledgment and responsibility her father hadn’t been willing to give to her. In Europe, though. She’d have to move. She wasn’t sure how Greg would take that. She would definitely have to give the idea a lot of thought before she made her decision.

  “Can’t wait for you to get back,” she told her uncle.

  “How is that new bodyguard working out?”

  “Good.” The less said about the subject, the less chance that she would betray her attraction toward the man.

  “From what I hear, Welkins doesn’t have bad people. You just pay attention to what his man says.”

  She hadn’t mentioned the elevator incident. There’d be time for that when Al came back. No one but the police knew that she’d been in the elevator that had crashed. Nash had made sure they hadn’t released that bit of news. She wanted to keep out of the spotlight as much as possible, and he did everything in his power to help her.

  He’d saved her life by figuring out a way for her to get out of the elevator.

  He’d nearly made love to her in that shower.

  He was leaving.

  “I only hired extra protection for the four days of the dog show. No one came near Tsini. His assignment is up tonight.” Even saying those words hurt.

  “Don’t be foolish, Kayla. Those two bodyguards of yours…They’re fine young men, but you need Welkins’s guy.”

  In more ways than her uncle knew. In fact, she’d been thinking about extending Nash’s assignment the whole plane ride home. She’d also reconsidered a brief, no-one-needs-to-know affair with him.

  Now that they were back in Philly and not in the difficult-to-control environment of the Vegas Dog Show, she was sure Nash would relax at last. He’d probably make more of an effort to fit into her team. Life would be much calmer. And yet it would remain plenty interesting. In a manageable way. This was her home. She definitely had the upper hand here. He would understand that and wouldn’t try to ride roughshod over her the way he’d done in Vegas.

  She was still on leave from work for another week.

  A week with Nash.

  All she had to do was think that and her pitiful body buzzed with excitement.

  “All right, sweetheart, I have to leave the hotel to get to my next meeting in time,” her uncle was saying. “Hang in there. I’ll be home in another day. Keep an eye on the company.”

  “I could do that better if I went back to the office.” Uncle Al had been the one who had suggested she take a couple of weeks off after she’d gotten that package with the blue fur coat.

  “You rest for a while,” he told her. “You deserve it. I’ll be back tomorrow. I can take care of whatever needs to be taken care of at work.”

  She hung up the phone just as Dave ambled in. “When’s GI Joe leaving?”

  Nash was checking her home security to make sure nothing had been tampered with while they were gone. He really did take his job seriously.

  “I think I’m going to ask him to stay on for a little longer.”

  The look of disappointment on Dave’s face was immediate and undisguised. “I don’t like him,” he said, in case she missed it. “Mike and I can handle everything.” He pulled a piece of folded paper from his pocket.

  She looked at the circle in the middle with a list of names inside.

  “What’s this?”

  “The people closest to you who could be affected if there’s any sort of attempt. These are the people who need to be protected.” His index finger brushed over the names: Kayla, Greg, Uncle Al, Elvis, Ivan, Fisk and the rest of her staff, including her secretary.

  Tom wasn’t on the list. He’d already taken off as soon as he’d brought up Tsini’s crate. He was on staff only during shows and sometimes when Kayla traveled. Right on the circle, as if they were the protective circle themselves, were written two words: Dave and Mike.

  She gave Dave a grateful smile, appreciating the sentiment.

  “We don’t need him.” Dave gestured toward Nash with his head. “We’re like family around here. Nobody except Nash thinks that the photo to your e-mail came from one of the staff. And none of
us knew that dead guy in Vegas whose picture Nash was showing around. The cops said the whole elevator thing was an accident. You ask me, he came in with those wild accusations to bust up the team and take over.”

  “He’ll make more of an effort to fit in to the team now that we’re back here safely,” she reassured Dave.

  Nash walked by, hustling off to whatever task he was on to next and glanced at the list. “List of suspects?”

  She looked up too fast and her headache intensified to a pulsing stream of pain behind her eyelids. He was gone by the time she could respond. She pushed off the couch and thanked Dave for the talk. “I’m going to lie down for a quick nap.”

  She took the paper with her without meaning to, just forgot to give it back, and looked at it again as she took some aspirin. She fell asleep with nothing but questions on her mind. Who was outside the circle? Who hunted her and her family?

  She had strange dreams about Nash and her uncle, dreams that left her uneasy, although when she woke, she couldn’t quite recall them. At least the headache was gone.

  Nash was working on his laptop when she came out of her bedroom. His head came up. He was all graceful power as he sat there, a warrior at rest. Heat came into his gaze as he looked her over. Predictably, every cell in her body responded. Maybe soon, she promised herself. But first she needed to ask him to stay on. Should have done that before she’d said anything to Dave, but she hadn’t been able to think, thanks to that damned headache.

  “I’ll call Welkins in a minute, but I want to tell you first. I’m going to extend your assignment. I mean, if you’re willing to stay on longer.” Wasn’t exactly the way she’d meant to tell him, but she was too frazzled to do better. She just hoped he couldn’t read her ulterior motives in her face.

  A quick emotion flashed across his eyes, but it was gone before she could decipher it.

  “Head of security. Carte blanche,” he said, his attention focused completely on her.

  So much for him “mellowing” now that the dog show was behind them and Tsini and Greg and she were safely back home.