by Tawny Weber
But she looked fine.
Wrinkling her nose, she sighed and headed for the bathroom.
She wasn’t changing her clothes, but it couldn’t hurt to put on a little more makeup. Play up her eyes, add some gloss to her lips. Maybe even a light mist of perfume.
After all, a little interest in her wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it?
By the time she’d fluffed the couch pillows for the third time and moved her files from the coffee table back to their usual spot on the bookcase in the kitchen, she had to admit that the idea of Spence being interested in her probably was a bad thing, since just thinking about it was turning her into a basket case.
Thankfully Jessica had swept out of the apartment, so she wasn’t here to see Mia’s dithering. Knowing you were acting like a giddy fool was one thing; being teased about it was another.
But it was kind of nice, Mia admitted to herself. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was interested in something besides work, something beyond proving her professional success.
The doorbell rang.
All the air in the apartment disappeared. Her stomach doing a wicked 360, Mia grabbed on to the back of the couch to steady herself.
He’s just a guy, she repeatedly reminded herself. A savvy assistant, here to assist with her events. A strong security specialist, who’s expertise would ensure her success. A key component in proving her business acumen.
That’s it. That’s all. That’s everything.
The viselike tension in Mia’s chest eased, the spots clearing from her eyes as she took a deep breath. In control again, she gave her tee a little tug, lifted her chin and pulled open the door.
And all of those levelheaded thoughts were instantly overwhelmed by sensations, her mind going blank but for a low-level sexual buzz.
Like her, Spence wore jeans and a tee. But oh, wow, what his did for his body. The pale blue shirt stretched tautly over broad shoulders, the sleeves wrapped tightly around biceps so impressive, Mia was tempted to squeeze them to see if they were as hard as they looked. Denim stretched from slim hips to scarred work boots. She tore her gaze off the acre of his long, long legs to focus on his wrist and sighed. How could a utilitarian watch on a battered leather band be so sexy?
“Hello.”
At his greeting, Mia tore her gaze off the sprinkling of hair on his arm to meet Spence’s friendly gaze.
“Um, yes. Hi. Thanks for coming over,” she greeted, grateful that her voice sounded normal. “I appreciate you giving up a Sunday to help me out.”
“I’m always ready to report for duty,” he said, his smile doing dangerous things to Mia’s libido. “Show me what you want and how you want it done, and I’ll make it happen.”
Oh, if only.
She waved him into the apartment, touching the tip of her tongue to her upper lip to keep from sighing. The man worked for her, she reminded herself. This was all business. Despite the story she’d spun for Alcosta—and, by association, Jessica—Mia knew there were too many pitfalls in workplace relationships to willingly step into one.
“I looked over those event notes you emailed me,” he said as he followed her down the short hallway to the living room. “My schedule is clear to handle everything on your list, and I have a few ideas for security on the bigger events.”
“Great. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.”
Nope. She couldn’t fire him.
And since she couldn’t climb on and gyrate with him, either, she’d have to settle for doing a kick-ass job with him.
* * *
So, this was where Admiral Cade’s daughter lived.
Not bad.
Spence looked around the living room, automatically noting the exits as he appreciated the energy of the space. Part of it could be Mia. She definitely added a tempting spark to every room he’d seen her in so far.
Today, she glowed as much as she sparkled.
The dewy gleam of her pale, silken skin emphasized those huge eyes with their thick, smudgy lashes. The hint of gloss touching her full lips tempted, making him wonder if they tasted as good as they looked.
Earrings big enough to fit a baby’s fist swung from her ears, brushing the sharp angle of her jawline, drawing his eyes to the elegant length of her neck.
Trying to quench the heat flaring in his loins, he drew in a cooling breath and reminded himself that he was on assignment. But he couldn’t help but wonder how the woman could make jeans and a T-shirt look so damned good.
He forced his attention back to the apartment. Clean white trim accented the cool blue walls and bleached wood floors, making the small room look larger than it was. The open floor plan added to the feeling of spaciousness, with a short tile bar separating the living room from the kitchen on one side and three closed doors that probably led to the bedrooms on the other.
Since wondering what Mia’s bedroom looked like was a sure path to trouble, Spence deliberately turned his gaze away from those doors to check out the rest of the room. Purple, blue, teal—the colors made a bigger impact than the furniture itself. A fire flickered, low and comforting, below a white marble mantle. The room’s pillows, rugs and knickknacks echoed the fire’s friendly warmth.
It gave him an odd sense of contentment. Almost like a homecoming. Probably because it was nothing like the barracks he’d spent his adult life in, he told himself, trying to shake off the strange longing. He was just drawn to the place because it was a total contrast to Lori’s overly trendy, minimalist apartment. He’d only been there once, but he still got a chill just thinking about all the chrome and Lucite.
“This is a great place,” he said, meeting Mia’s gaze again. “It looks like you.”
“Does it?” Her smile flashed, those fairy eyes satisfied as she looked around the room. “Thank you. I like it here.” Mia gestured for him to take a seat before asking, “Can I get you something to drink before we get started?”
“Coffee, black, if you have it.”
“I do,” she assured him, hurrying into the kitchen. After Mia punched a couple of buttons, the rich, heady scent of coffee filled the air, telling him she was a woman who believed in being prepared. “I made some cranberry muffins to go with it. Fresh this morning. Sound good?”
“You didn’t have to go to the trouble.” He sat on the couch, the deep cushions welcoming him to sink in and get comfortable. That seemed to be a theme with Mia. Comfort with class.
“No trouble,” she assured him, pouring his coffee into a glossy emerald mug before meeting his gaze across the small kitchen island. “You’re giving up your Sunday morning to meet with me, the least I can do is offer you something to eat.”
“You gotta do what you gotta do when you’re building a career,” he pointed out with a smile.
“Isn’t that the truth,” she agreed, setting his mug of coffee and a basket overflowing with golden muffins on the table. “I’ll get the paperwork so we can rock working our careers.”
Paperwork. Spence took a drink of coffee to hide his lack of enthusiasm. He’d rather order bartenders and florists around. Actually, he’d rather dodge bullets and blow up buildings. But apparently this was where his career was.
He was intrigued by that little tripping incident in the hallway at the gala. Adding that to the list of “accidents” involving Mia and her business over the previous six weeks, he thought it was worth looking into.
Cade, unfortunately, thought otherwise.
Dismissing the accidents as a byproduct of his daughter’s propensity to rush through life and her habit of hiring unqualified people, the admiral ordered Spence to keep all his focus on Alcosta.
Not for the first time since his meeting with the admiral, Spence wondered if he’d made the right decision. Yeah, the promise of security work, the lure of duty alongside fellow military types—men who understood the nuances of protoc
ol and skilled focus of teamwork, while facing untold dangers and protecting innocents—loomed brightly.
But so far, he was lying to a gorgeous, appealing woman, organizing party favors and chasing party crashers through fancy ballrooms. Not exactly an auspicious start to his new career.
Although, as he watched Mia bend at the waist to dig through a short filing cabinet wedged between the refrigerator and the kitchen table, he had to admit that the view here was a lot more appealing than any he’d seen in his years of travels.
Get a grip, he told himself, watching as Mia pulled out a big stack of what he assumed were event files. That the folders came in an array of colors, from red to purple to green, didn’t surprise him.
She was clearly a woman of deep sensuality, he could tell, from the rich textures and vivid colors filling her apartment to the delicate scents wafting from the lilies in the corner and the wind chimes getting a workout in the San Francisco air just outside the window.
What did surprise him was the disarray the folders seemed to be in, stuffed in the cabinet in no apparent order, all with papers sticking out here and there.
Mia turned back, her arms filled with files. Seeing his surprise, she gave a half smile and a shrug.
“My roommate, Jessica Alexander, has been helping me with the office work lately,” she said, wrinkling her nose as she set the files on the coffee table, sorting through the stack of papers, setting some aside and tidying the others. “She’s great with concepts, but a little messy when it comes to little details like organization.”
Alexander. It only took a second for Spence to flip through his mental files. Alcosta’s assistant. Party girl with debt up to her baby blues, a reputation as a man-eater and a history of catfights.
She was doing work for Mia?
That was a surprise. None of the reports hinted at the woman’s generosity.
Looked like the admiral definitely knew his daughter. Still, Spence decided to take a closer look at Ms. Alexander.
“If you’ve already got help, do you really need me?” he asked, totally serious despite his light tone.
“I really do. Jessica really doesn’t have time to do much. She has a demanding day job and this superintense relationship. And, well, as much as I appreciated her donating her time, the type of work I do isn’t actually in her wheelhouse.”
“Donating time?”
“Didn’t Karen tell you?” Her expression horrified, she dumped the pile of folders on the small oak kitchen table and hurried over to face him. “Oh, man. We should have talked about this before, but I don’t usually bring someone in midevent, so I was distracted.”
“No worries,” he assured her. “What do we need to discuss?”
“Most of my assistants are volunteers,” she admitted, biting her lip. “Actually, all of them are. Maybe it’s because most of the work I do is to raise money for charities, but I try to keep my overhead as low as possible.”
Excellent. The tension he hadn’t even realized was balled in his gut eased. He felt bad enough working for the woman under false pretenses; he’d be damned if he’d take her money, too. Now he didn’t have to come up with an excuse.
“My long-term goal is a security gig,” he reminded her. “Helping you out will add some range to my skill set and it’ll look great on my résumé, but it’s definitely short-term.”
“Oh.” For a second, her bottom lip trembled and she looked sad enough to cry. Then, so fast that he wondered if he’d imagined the distress, she smiled. “Well, don’t forget that I’m bidding on a huge fund-raiser tomorrow. If I get it, the series of events will kick off in three weeks. So as long as I can count on you to commit to the next month, we’ll be fine.”
Spence didn’t know why he hesitated. He’d agreed to protect Mia until the end of Alcosta’s fund-raiser or until they found something to nail the guy with—whichever came first.
But when it came to Mia, he was loathe to make any promises he might, for any reason, have to break.
“I’m all yours,” he finally said.
“Are you, now?” Her smile started slowly, slipping from sweet to wicked with a flutter of her lashes.
Damn.
He could fall for those eyes.
So, yeah. Maybe that was the reason he’d rather avoid making her any promises. Because the woman tempted him to consider stupid ideas.
“Well, then,” she murmured, her voice a throaty temptation. “I’ll have to make sure that I make good use of you.”
Before he could respond—or even temper his response down from the X-rated version in his head—she hurried back to the kitchen to grab the stack of files off the table.
“We’ve got three small fund-raisers, two solicitations meetings and my Alcosta presentation,” Mia said, suddenly all business as she finished sorting her files and settled on the couch next to him. “You ready to learn the ropes?”
“Like I said, I’m all yours,” he said again, just for the hell of it.
“Then let’s get started.”
* * *
Two hours later, Spence was sure of three things.
One, whatever doubts her family might have, Mia knew her stuff. Location options, wine choices, weather conditions, even the rates of exchange—she reeled off lists. Names, dates, themes and brands—she had them solid. For every event booked, she’d memorized the details. Every question he asked, she easily answered.
Two, this woman worked her ass off. Between the planning, the organizing, the coordinating and the execution, even the small events took a minimum of forty work hours. And she had three small events and one large one each week—not even counting the Alcosta fund-raiser, if she got the job.
And three, if he made it the entire month without giving in to his attraction for her, it’d be a testament to his miraculous willpower.
“I feel so comfortable handing over these events to you now,” Mia declared, leaning back on the couch with a smile. “I think you’re going to do great.”
“Thanks. I’m good at coordinating details and strategizing results.” Usually they were battle strategies, but he was nothing if not adaptable. And speaking of...
“Now that we’ve covered everything you need me to handle over the next of couple weeks, how about that Alcosta fund-raiser?”
In the process of tidying the stack of files she’d copied for his use, Mia gave him a questioning look.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s the deal with this other event you’re trying to get?”
“Actually, it’s a series of events. A cocktail party, silent auction, golf tournament, fashion show and wine tasting, ending with a Monte Carlo Night–style gala. The tone for all events is luxurious indulgence,” she said, getting up and hurrying into the kitchen for her computer tablet and a basket holding yet another stack of files. “Most fund-raisers of this caliber take months to plan, but Señor Alcosta is in a time crunch.”
“Why the time crunch?”
“His previous funding fell through, and if he doesn’t come up with the money for the children’s hospital in the next six weeks, he’ll lose the land and his investors.” With her arms full, she settled onto the couch, next to him, with a bounce. Her knee brushed his thigh as she tucked one foot under the opposite leg and gave him a rueful smile. “If he likes my ideas, he’s all but promised me the contract. Most big, established event planners were already booked. Even if they weren’t, they’d probably say it was preposterous to try to pull off an event of that magnitude in that short of a time.”
“You obviously aren’t worried.” Spence glanced at the folders, impressed to see that they were not only color coordinated, but cross-referenced, as well. But he’d put in enough time with event details today to earn her trust. Time to dig for information. “You’d think a guy like Alcosta would have enough connections to get around that sort of issue.”
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“I thought the same thing,” Mia said, her attention focused on pulling up the Alcosta fund-raiser timeline on her tablet. “Jessica told me that he has plenty of connections, but he hates to call in favors. It’s lucky for me that she convinced him to give me a chance since this type of an event will really catapult my business. It’s going to be fun, too. A man like Alcosta, with his air of mystery and all that charm, is sure to be a real draw.”
Charm? Mystery? Spence had to unclench his jaw before he could respond.
“He is the guy who hit on you, right?”
“I wouldn’t say that he hit on me,” she corrected, wrinkling her nose as she gave him an embarrassed look. “More like he implied that he wanted to hit on me.”
“Implied it strongly enough that you needed a fake lover?”
“Fake boyfriend,” she corrected, with her flush fading as she arched her brows in challenge.
“I haven’t been called a boy in decades,” he told her, appreciating that she met his gaze head-on, even as a hint of color washed her cheeks again. He couldn’t resist the urge to see if he could get that hint to bloom into a full-on blush. “I think I prefer the term lover.”
Instead of blushing and backing down, Mia rolled her eyes. “Just like a man to only be interested in one thing.”
“Believe me, my interests are many and varied.” Almost as many and varied as the sexual positions he was currently imagining her in. With a body as lithe and long as hers, the possibilities were pretty damned intriguing.
“There’s only one of your interests that I need right now.” Her words were sharp and decisive, but Spence could see the desire in her eyes. It made it damned hard to ignore his own.
“Tell me what you want,” he encouraged, shifting on the couch so his arm lay across the back cushions. The move brought him just a little closer. Close enough to see the pulse dancing, fast and furiously, in Mia’s throat.