Navy SEAL Bodyguard

by Tawny Weber

  “Trying to find the hottie?”

  Mia froze.

  Not interested in listening to any more from Clair, she decided to play dumb.

  “Hottie? There are a some very handsome men here tonight. Which one do you think is the hottie?” Mia said, pasting on a friendly smile as she turned. “I mean, look at this crowd. I think it’s a record turnout, don’t you?”

  Mia’s words trailed off when she got a good look at Clair. Instead of her usual outlet special, fade-into-the-background dress, the blonde wore low-cut siren red.

  “You look very different.”

  “You think?” Clair did a model turn, complete with one hand on her hip and the other behind her head. “Do you think Spence will like it?”

  “You wore that for my assistant?”

  “So, tell me everything you know about him. He’s single, right? Does he have a real job? Not that running errands for you isn’t a job. I’m sure there’s plenty of things for him to do,” Clair said, flicking her hand in the air with her usual dismissal of Mia’s work. “I’ll bet he’s great on the dance floor. I can’t wait to find out. I’ve rearranged the seating so he’s next to me for dinner. It’s not like you need him then, right?”

  Before Mia could find a nice way to tell the woman to back the hell away from her seating charts and her assistant, Clair gave a low growl. Following the other woman’s hot stare, it was all Mia could do not to give a growl of her own.

  Oh.

  Wow.

  She’d had no idea that a man who looked so slurp-worthy in jeans could make her panties melt when he was wearing black tie.

  In a tuxedo that fit as if custom-made, Spence surveyed the room with a calculation that would have made Mia frown if she wasn’t so distracted by how gorgeous the man was.

  From the hint of curl in his slicked-back hair to his sharp cheekbones and sculpted lips and the way his jacket perfectly hugged the impressive breadth of his shoulders, the man exuded a sexy power.

  But something about the way he stood, as if ready to attack, made the back of her neck tingle.

  And her belly quiver.

  “You really only see that guy as a professional associate?” Clair murmured, incredulous disbelief clear in her words.

  “He handled every job I gave him this afternoon, he averted three disasters, fixed two potential issues and intimidated Chef Porter. Since he walked through the door this evening, I’ve seen him charm three women into bidding in the art auction, introduce two patrons to attending artists and, at one point, he even made Mrs. Crane laugh.”

  “Aha,” Clair exclaimed, jabbing one finger in the air. “There it is. Proof that you are interested in the man.”

  “No,” Mia returned, waving that away with her French manicure. “That would be proof that he’s the perfect assistant.”

  “Okay, fine. If you really have no interest in him, then you won’t object if I go for it.” Then, in case the “it” in question wasn’t clear, Clair leaned closer to murmur, “I’ll fill you in on the naked details tomorrow.”

  Mia wrinkled her nose. Of course she objected. The last thing she wanted to imagine was Clair climbing all over her assistant. Not when she wanted those delicious shoulders and the rest of him for herself.

  “No need to share the details. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check the seating arrangements.”

  Before Clair could share one more detail, Mia hurriedly crossed the room, irritation clicking with each tap of her heels. Clair and Spence? There was an image she didn’t want in her head. Now Spence naked?

  That image flashed so large and vivid in her mind that Mia almost tripped over her own feet.

  This was ridiculous.

  Tonight marked an important turning point in her career. All her focus needed to stay not only on rocking this Forever Families event, but also on wooing Señor Alcosta. That left no room for lusting after a man she’d only met ten hours before.

  Since her first priority was work, she’d do a check to make sure everything was on track before she cornered Alcosta for her next pitch.

  With that in mind, she focused on doing her job, dashing between the kitchen, the musicians and the artists, ensuring that everything behind the scenes looked as good as the ballroom itself. Thanks to a gossipy sculptor, she was running five minutes behind by the time she was headed back to the ball.

  She hated running behind.

  If she wanted at least twenty minutes with Alcosta before dinner was announced, she had to hurry.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry.

  Double-timing it while mentally searching her timetable to make up the missing minutes, Mia almost didn’t notice the man at the end of the hallway.

  Spence.

  Standing outside the side door to the ballroom, watching her with an intensity that made her shiver.

  He was so tall, dark and sexy that her mind immediately pitched out the timetable and replaced it with a montage of erotic images.

  Even as a tiny part of her wondered why the tuxedo didn’t tame his delicious edginess, the rest of her brain just hummed with lustful appreciation at the way the expensive black fabric hugged his wide shoulders, at how the crisp white shirt accented his russet hair and gilded skin.

  Since running away would be both cowardly and stupid, she shoved the images back, widened her smile and continued down the hall. Six feet from Spence, her stomach pitched one way, and her feet the other as her shoes hit something slippery. Mia instinctively bit back her scream of surprise as she caught air.

  Torn between worry about damaging her favorite Louboutins and using that half second before she hit the floor to figure out how to finish the event to perfection while injured, Mia tried to grab the wall to slow her fall.

  Her stomach swooped when, instead of a sconce, she gripped a handful of crisp fabric, her fingers digging into hard flesh. Warm hands wrapped around her, waist and hip, sweeping her off the floor to safety.

  Spence.

  He’d been all the way down the hall. How’d he move so fast? More important, how long could he hold her like this? Breathless, she stared into the intensity of those dark gray eyes.

  Oh. My.

  He looked even better up close.

  Mia drew in a long, slow breath, trying to calm her racing pulse. But the air seemed to lodge in her chest, pounding in time with the heartbeat of awareness throbbing through her body.

  “Are you okay?” Spence asked, his voice low, a soothing contrast to the intensity in his eyes as he inspected the empty hallway. “What happened?”

  Happened?

  One second she’d been hurling toward a guaranteed sore butt and bruised ego, and the next he’d been there, sweeping her into the safety of his arms.

  His big, strong, muscular arms.

  Mia had never been the type to lose her head over a guy’s body. Then again, she’d never been rescued by one, either. Never been held as if she were a featherweight, cuddled so close she could see the deep gray ringing those smoky irises.

  Close enough that she was tempted to rub her palm over the hint of whiskers carpeting those sharp cheekbones, just to see how they felt. To skim her thumb along the fullness of his lower lip, teasing it open for her questing tongue.

  “Mia?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Are you okay?” This time, enough concern coated the question to make her blink. And realize how ridiculously she was behaving, practically throwing herself at a man just because he’d kept her butt from hitting the floor.

  “I’m fine. Well, embarrassed, but fine,” she corrected with a strained laugh. “I’m not usually so clumsy. I do appreciate the rescue, though.”

  “What happened?” he asked again, his gaze skimming her from head to foot, leaving a tingling trail of awareness in its wake. “You were really booking it down that hallway. Did you lose your bal
ance? Break a heel?”

  Mia was too worried about ruining her favorite shoes to take offense at the idea that she couldn’t book with the best of them.

  “My Louboutins?” Horrified at the idea, Mia angled to one side, checking her left shoe, then her right. It wasn’t until her second twist that she realized that her breasts were rubbing against his chest. Her nipples, paying a lot more attention, hardened with tingling awareness.

  Oh, God.

  Embarrassed and more than a little turned on, Mia told herself not to blush. But from the heat warming her cheeks, she knew the warning was as useless as wishing away her body’s reaction.

  Thankfully Spence didn’t seem to notice. Even while holding her tightly against his chest like she was precious cargo, the man didn’t show any reaction other than concern.

  “I slipped,” she finally said, twitching just a little to let him know that it was okay to put her down. Not preferable, since it felt really good to be cozied up here in his arms. But she didn’t want to be an imposition. “I always walk fast, so it’s not that. There must’ve been something on the floor. One second I was walking. The next my feet were flying.”

  As soon as the words were out, she felt like an idiot. But he didn’t look at her like she’d said something ridiculous. Instead, he cast a narrow-eyed scowl up and down the hallway before giving her a reassuring smile.

  “You’re okay now. Do you think you can stand?”

  She wanted to say no. She wanted to claim anything that’d keep her in the hard, strong haven of his arms.

  But the man worked for her.

  Hoping he’d attribute her breathlessness to almost falling on her butt, Mia cleared her throat and tried a smile.

  “I’m fine. Totally fine. You can put me down.”

  “Of course.”

  He let her down slowly, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, her body pressed against his, until her feet hit the floor. Until she got her balance. Until she wanted to whimper with need.

  For the briefest of moments, interest flared in those smoky eyes before his expression cleared. His hand still on her waist, he slowly stepped back to put some distance between them. Mia felt like she could truly breathe for the first time since her feet found air.

  “Why were you in the hallway?” she asked, more in hopes that words would put even more distance between them than out of any sort of curiosity.

  “I was looking for you.”

  Concern replaced embarrassed lust. “Why? Is there a problem with the event?” A little more carefully this time, Mia headed for the ballroom. No amount of planning and preparation could prevent random problems from cropping up. “Is Lorraine looking for me?”

  “No and no. The event appears to be operating on schedule, and to all appearances the guests are well entertained and content.”

  Needing to see for herself, Mia stopped just outside the ballroom to peer through the narrow side door.

  “Everything looks just as it should,” she murmured before frowning at Spence. “So why were you looking for me?”

  His eyes locked on hers, he seemed to consider her question for a long moment, and then he smiled. A long, slow, melt-her-into-a-puddle smile.

  “Do I need a reason?”

  Anticipation doing a sexy little dance in her belly, Mia bit her lip and studied his face.

  Was he hitting on her? She wasn’t in a position to complain, given that she’d just massaged his chest with hers. But despite her obvious attraction to the man, she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

  Did she?

  She wet her lips, studying his face.

  The man was gorgeous and exuded an air of power that she admired in a professional capacity, but knew from experience to avoid at all costs in a personal capacity.

  Before she could figure out how to tell him that without damaging their work relationship in the middle of a major event, his smile shifted from a sexy invitation to innocuous friendliness.

  “Actually, Clair wanted my help with a few things,” he said, a shrug clear in his voice. “I figured I should check in with you first, make sure we were clear before I agreed.”

  Clair? Oh, Mia knew exactly what Clair wanted his help with.

  “Of course,” she said, biting back the bitter taste of jealousy. “Lorraine is Clair’s boss, and Clair is her right hand. Feel free to help her in any way she needs.”

  From his arched brow and the quirk of his lips, he obviously had a good idea of at least a few of Clair’s needs. But all he said was, “I’m going to check the hallway where you slipped, make sure the floor is clean. Then I’ll be inside.”

  She wanted to protest that she’d have noticed if there was something on the floor, but figured anything that kept him out of Clair’s clutches for a few extra seconds was fine with her.

  “Good idea,” she murmured, stepping into the ballroom. She could feel his gaze on her, a tingling sort of awareness that made every step an erotic reminder of how his body had felt against hers.

  Forget Spence, she chided herself.

  The last thing she needed right now was to get her head—or her body—all messed up over a guy.

  After all, she had her priorities. As her father always said, A man at the top of the mountain didn’t fall there. If she wanted success, she had to work at it. And working at it meant doing whatever it took to accomplish the task at hand.

  In this case, wooing her target.

  Not wowing a hottie.

  Her gaze tracking his progress across the room, Mia scowled. The last thing she saw before she was swallowed by the crowed was Spence being accosted by a fluff of blonde curls and flash of red satin.

  So what if Clair hauled him off to a secluded corner and rode him like a stripper pole? The only interest Mia had in the man was his skills as an assistant.

  Deliberately turning her back, Mia scanned the room for the one man she was invested in tonight.

  Ah, there he was.

  Santiago Alcosta.

  Exactly as Jessica had described him when she’d coached Mia on her approach for the night.

  Successful businessman. Wealthy philanthropist. Sophisticated playboy.

  The man who, if this evening went right, would hire her to coordinate all funding for a brand-spanking-new children’s hospital in Mexico City.

  From the tips of his glossy black hair that was winged with silver and slicked back from a face almost too perfect to be provided by nature to the polished points of his snakeskin boots, he exuded confidence. Santiago was the epitome of charismatic power and wealth. All of that would play well in marketing the campaign and soliciting donations for the new children’s hospital.

  She had a million ideas and couldn’t wait to get started. All she needed was the go-ahead—and of course, a contract—from Alcosta.

  Ready to take the next step toward that, Mia ran her tongue over her teeth, checking for lipstick, smoothed her hand over her hip to ensure her dress was flowing just right, took a deep breath and then hurried across the room.

  “Señor Alcosta,” she greeted with a warm smile, holding out her hand. “How lovely to see you this evening. I’m so happy you accepted my invitation.”

  “My darling Mia,” he greeted, the elegantly accented English rolling off his tongue like velvet. He lifted her hand to his lips, lingering over the kiss in a way that made Mia inwardly squirm a little.

  “I hope you’re enjoying the gala.”

  “I was indeed. But as lovely as this evening has been, it’s infinitely better now.”

  “That’s so kind of you,” she said, a little surprised at the blatant interest in his eyes. Not because of any sort of false modesty—how could she pretend she didn’t feel sexy and gorgeous after that encounter with Spence?—but because the man was old enough to be her father. “There are a number of people who’d love t
o meet you. Can I introduce you around?”

  “I’d prefer to spend my time with the most beautiful woman in the room.” He stepped closer, taking her hand and lifting it to his mouth. Mia pressed her lips together to keep from giggling when his mustache tickled her knuckles. She schooled her face to show nothing but respectful admiration when he met her eyes, though.

  “You’re definitely a charmer.” She smiled, sliding her hand free to surreptitiously rub her knuckles against her hip in hopes of easing the itchiness.

  “I worried you would not find enough time to spend with me this evening,” Alcosta said, his expression theatrically morose. Without looking away from Mia, he lifted a finger to get the attention of a passing waiter, held up his empty glass, then dropped it on the man’s tray.

  Mia barely hid her grimace.

  She was used to arrogance in men. Her father was one of the most alpha of alphas in existence. She’d seen him make raw ensigns cry. But—despite a few people wishing otherwise—he never treated anyone like they were invisible.

  “I wanted to make sure I’d handled everything that had to be handled, so I could focus all of my attention on you,” she told him. “I’d love to show you around the art displays. The silent auction is open for another hour and I’ll bet I can find you the perfect match.”

  “Usually, I’m quite particular about my art. But I’m intrigued to see what you think will suit me.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  Tucking her arm through his free one, Mia kept up a slew of friendly chatter as she led him from sculpture to sculpture. Before they’d reached the paintings, he’d slugged down three more drinks and was so effusive in his compliments that Mia was afraid he might be serious.

  She sidestepped the suggestion that they take their conversation out on the balcony and gestured toward one of the three most expensive paintings.

  “Isn’t this gorgeous? It’s my favorite here tonight,” she said, studying the canvas. The colors were just as vivid and vibrant as the oils and acrylics, but there was something soothing about the watercolor that called to her. Looking at it felt like watching a brilliant garden through a misty rain. “It’s soothing and exciting at the same time.”