don’t need to like you to do my job.”
“That’s exactly the resounding reassurance I was looking for.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that I care.”
“Then why did you ask?”
She shrugged and raked a hand through her cropped waves. “You didn’t answer my last question.”
“I’m not here to reassure you about anything other than your physical safety. I’m not going to tuck you in at night and read you bedtime stories.” He glanced at her. “Though I’m sure there would be guys lining up to fill that position.”
Between working at the store and designing jewelry, she didn’t exactly get out much. Any free time was spent checking out the competition, taking pictures of her pieces to post online and working on the website she hoped to launch in the new year. Sure, she’d left a string of boyfriends behind her in London, but she’d been the one making the first move...not that she had a problem with that.
“Probably a good thing you’re not up for a bedtime story. I’m reading that book about the guy with the ‘play room.’ You know, BDSM is all the rage now.”
Baiting the bodyguard probably wasn’t the smartest idea that Rose had ever had, but, dammit, she needed a little fun right now. Ruffling the feathers of Max Ridgeway definitely counted as fun. To her delight, a light flush spread over his cheeks.
“Yeah, there’s this one scene where he paddles the girl. Oh, and another with a sex swing. Very kinky. I’m not sure you’d enjoy it.”
They stopped at a red light and Max stared at her. The blacks of his pupils flared. His lips twisted up at the corner. Seriousness had given way to something else; his mask cracking to reveal a hint of something real. A delicious, sensual edge that set Rose’s whole body on red-alert.
“You have no idea what I like.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to be into the kinky stuff. Poached eggs seem a little vanilla to me... That’s all I’m saying.” She patted his arm. “Feel free to prove me wrong, though.”
He turned back to the road. “I think I preferred you this morning when you were determined to ditch me.”
“Yes, but it seems I do need you.” She wrinkled her nose. The thought of relying on him irritated her. “I may as well have a little fun.”
“This isn’t a game, Rose.” He shook his head, his tone admonishing her as though she were a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. If only the cookie jar were his pants...
“You would say that.”
They pulled up in front of a small, out-of-the-way hotel that Rose didn’t recognize. Christmas lights decorated two small trees at the entrance. A wreath hung over the door, obscuring the fancy design on the glass.
“It’s not The Plaza, but I guess it will do,” she quipped, waiting to see if Max would bite.
“Go straight inside. I’ll grab your bag and meet you at the check-in desk in a minute. Don’t talk to anyone.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute and pushed out onto the street, stealing a glance around.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, her skin prickling with awareness. Surely Max would know if someone had followed them. That was his job, right? Swallowing her nerves, Rose strode into the hotel. People milled about, the uniformed staff bustling and serving customers.
A mother with a screeching toddler was trying desperately to bribe him into the stroller with a chocolate bar. Two businessmen sat in the foyer huddled over a laptop. A guy with tattoos on his forearms sat alone, a newspaper folded in his lap. His eyes swept over Rose, burning intently into her. She swallowed and looked away, silently praying that he wouldn’t approach her.
The burgeoning bruise on her cheek pulsed and she raised her fingers to it, suddenly self-conscious that people might stare at her. Where the hell was Max? Surely he should be inside by now.
A hand landed heavily on her shoulder and Rose gasped, her heart lodging in her windpipe.
“It’s just me,” Max said, handing her a key card. “I checked us in.”
“I didn’t see you.” Adrenaline coursed through her, making her hands tremble as she took the plastic card from him.
“You’re safe with me, Rose.” He dragged her suitcase behind him and pressed his free hand against her lower back, guiding her toward the elevators. “I’m good at my job.”
The gesture was simple, commanding and comforting. He was in charge here, she was in his domain. Under his rule.
He released her as they stepped into the elevator and her skin cried out at the loss of his touch. Was she so desperate for affection that she craved it from a guy who’d all but admitted he disliked her?
Pathetic. You’ve officially reached a D-grade celebrity, Real Housewives-level of sadness. Next stop, the Big Brother house.
Max typed on his phone, seemingly unaware of her inner crazy. He looked delectable in his skin-hugging jeans, faded T-shirt, leather jacket and scuffed boots. Casual and totally perfect. His fingers flew over the screen of his smartphone, dexterous and nimble. She swallowed, wondering what those fingers would feel like on her, teasing her. Coaxing her.
The elevator pinged and Max shoved the phone into his back pocket, motioning for her to exit first. The hallway of the boutique hotel was a little kitsch, the exposed brick and ornate carpet hinting at another time. Their suite was the one closest to the elevator. Was that so they could make a quick getaway?
Stop being so paranoid. This will probably blow over before you know it. Don’t turn into a baby now! Not with something much more interesting to focus on...
* * *
MAX CHECKED IN with the assignment manager at Cobalt & Dane Security and let him know that he would be watching over Rose tonight. He logged their location—using the required location alias—should anything happen. The hotel was on the company’s list of approved safe houses and he knew there were two security consultants who lived in the same block should he need backup tonight.
Doing things “by the book” had always been his style. He’d been the third generation to join the Victoria Police, and his family had instilled in him a strong sense of obligation and obedience. But the rules didn’t offer him the same comfort they once had. He’d followed orders every day of his career and now, because of his loyalty to the rules, Ryan was dead.
His best friend gone. Forever.
No way was he making that same mistake again. Speaking of Rose, she was one thing not going his way. He wondered if he was being punished for fucking up everything back home. She was exactly the kind of client he didn’t want: headstrong, argumentative. Tempting beyond all belief.
Hell, seeing the expensive lingerie strewn all around her bedroom had done crazy things to him. He couldn’t help but picture how amazing she would look in the red lace teddy he’d spied hanging off one of her bed posts. Maybe she had stockings to match. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair.
“How
