“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 card 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.”
