Aw crap. That’s right, Lee-Anne had driven up the bidding that night and cost Jodi 70K.
“I remember.” Lee-Anne’s voice dripped icicles. “You don’t mind if I borrow Sam for a few minutes, do you, dear? I have some private business to discuss with him.” Lee-Anne turned her back on Rosie and wrapped her nails about Sam’s biceps in an attempt to draw him away. Once she realized he wasn’t about to move, she lowered her voice until he could barely hear her over the quartet that was now playing a rousing rendition of Aretha Franklin’s Respect. “She’s not acting properly submissive-if she gives you any problems, feel free to call me to help train her.”
Like he’d let Rosie get anywhere near the Ice Bitch. Although he suspected that Rosie might be just the one to teach Lee-Anne the effective use of a single-tail. “As I said, Rosie is my employee, not my sub.”
“Darling! A man with your…appetites can’t go too long without eating now, can he?” She lowered her voice even further. “Enough about her. I’m sponsoring Greg for membership this year. I take it there should be no problem with getting approval from the board?”
“His application will be viewed as objectively as every other applicant for initiation, but I know of no impediments.” Though Greg might wish to withdraw his application once he got a glimpse into Lee-Anne’s sexual proclivities. Or maybe he already knew but was willing to sacrifice his pride and dignity for a corner office.
Lee-Anne hmmed and tried another tack. “But you will be there, won’t you, darling? I’d love for you to participate that night.”
Sam shook his head-his neck was so stiff he thought even the band could hear his bones cracking. Even if he had been planning on it, he would have made himself unavailable for whatever humiliation she had planned for Tompkins. “I won’t be attending this year’s Gala.”
“What happened, did your itty bitty slave convince her master to wear the dog collar for once?” Lee-Anne’s lips smiled widely, though anyone carefully watching would see her eyes were daggers formed of ice. Damned if he didn’t prefer the fire in the chocolate brown eyes of the woman beside him. “You aren’t turning into a switch, are you, darling? Because if you are, perhaps you might be open to letting me tie you up in the grotto for me to play with.”
“If you ever mention the club in public again, or what goes on there, I’ll blackball you myself.” But the thought of Rosie wearing his collar as he led her through the halls at the Rouge had his cock hardening-especially when he pictured her breasts overflowing a leather corset he’d have made to match. Or stretching her face down on the bench he had in his suite, her ass glistening with lube as he fucked her tight rosebud entrance.
Sam placed his wineglass on the tray of a passing waiter, then clamped one hand around Rosie’s waist. “I think it’s time we blow this popsicle stand, Ms. Ramos.”
“I’m supposed to be guarding you, not the other way around,” she protested as he wound through the crowd to the front door.
“I’m the one wearin’ the bulletproof vest and you aren’t, so go with me on this one, will you?” He shrugged off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, then slid his hand back around her waist. Using his jacket as cover, his hand moved up until his fingers brushed the side of her breast.
When she tried to pull away, the hand on her back held her firmly in place. “Mr. Watson-”
“Why are you back to bein’ all formal? You say Mr. Watson and I look around for my daddy. My name’s Sam.” The movement of her walking in those killer stilettos had her nipple rubbing against his index finger. The soft flesh quickly pebbled and peaked. Damn she was responsive. “It’s real easy to say. Just one syllable. Sam. Say it, Rosie. Let me hear you call me Sam.”
“S-Sam.”
A shot of smug male satisfaction filled him. “I like the way my name spills from your lips, Rosebud.”
“Rosebud?”
His Georgia accent thickened, along with the heat in his eyes as he smiled. “You’re beautiful”-he leaned in and made a show of sniffing her-“and you smell delicious. And you keep yourself wrapped tighter than a bug in a rug in July. So I’m figuring you’re a rose just waitin’ to blossom.”
Forcing herself not to focus on burgeoning heat in her breasts, in her pussy, she managed to gather herself when their limo stopped in front of them. “Be warned, Sam. This rose has thorns.”
At least Sam waited until Kris had closed the door behind them before he replied, “Hmm, sounds like a challenge. And I have to tell you, Rosie, I do love a challenge.”
“I thought we’d already discussed how our…dating wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“I can’t ignore the attraction I have for you. And from the way you reacted yesterday, the way you’re reactin’ now, I’d say you’re attracted to me too.” He cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing back along her bottom lip, the touch an electric caress. “So I’m thinking maybe we could come to some…accord?”
“An accord?” She sounded like a parrot, incapable of doing anything but echo what he said. What was it about that thumb of his that was causing her brains to short circuit?
“An agreement so we can explore our mutual attractions.” He shifted and leaned over her, his lips hovering above hers.
All she had to do was stretch her neck a fraction of an inch, a millimeter and he’d kiss her again. Make stars appear with those magic fingers, that talented tongue.
He’d agreed to back off when they’d left the limo, and now he was a bloodhound on the scent of a bitch in heat. What had changed? The blonde-Lee-Anne Bennett. That’s what this was about. He didn’t want her. He just wanted an available pussy because he was between blonde bimbos.
“I’m in charge of your protection, Mr. Watson. Entering into an affair with you could be considered unprofessional.” More to keep herself from leaning up for that kiss than to encourage him, she moved to the rear- facing seat.
Three intersections had passed before he spoke again. “How about if I agree that I’ll not touch you or give any indication that we’re a couple while we’re in public?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not enough. Besides you’re not going to be alone even when you’re at home-Andy, Kris or Scott will be around.”
“They’re discreet. They have to be in this job. And if they’re not they’ll find themselves transferred to Troy McPherson’s group where he’ll assign them to Timbuktu for the rest of their careers.”
“I’ve worked hard to get where I am-I’m the lead op and I don’t want people to think I got the position because I’m sleeping with the boss.” She frowned. “I didn’t, did I? Get this job because you want to sleep with me?”
“No, if you care to remember, I told Chad not to put you on the team. For precisely this reason.”
Why did things have to be so complicated? Why did he have to be, not only her principal but her boss?
“What do you say, Rosebud? Can we come to an accord?” he asked as the limo stopped at a red light.
“I’m…flattered, Sam. But I respectfully decline your proposal and I’d appreciate it if we didn’t discuss it anymore.”
“All right.”
She started to breathe a sigh of relief until he added, “For now. But I reserve the right to try to convince you you’re making a mistake.”
Oh, good Lord, she’d just made herself a target. A challenge to be conquered. “You mean you’re going to try to seduce me?”
“As long as you realize your job’s not at stake. And you acknowledge that-” he dropped his voice, “-you’ve been thinking about how I made you come with just my tongue.”
Ay, he’d found a way to suck the air from her lungs and set her heart racing again. “N-no. I…”
One of his eyebrows quirked up in a challenge.
She shot a glance over her shoulder to ensure the divider was up all the way before whispering, “Oh, all right, yes, you’ve got a very talented mouth, I admit it. But you won’t be able to change my mind.” She hoped.
He leaned back, stretching one arm along the back of the seat. “Rosebud, I’m fixin’ to romance you so good that before this assignment’s done, you’ll be the one seducin’ me.”
Chapter Twelve
