by Nicole Vidal
Now I have a whole new struggle to deal with—my attraction to Connor. There’s an air about him that makes me feel safe. It’s never happened before with any other bodyguard. He genuinely would prefer me to tell him about my issues. The question is whether its relevant to why he’s here now. What happened to my family and the subsequent path of my life has nothing to do with why he’s here now. Right. Right?
I push those thoughts away for another time, wash up and fall into the large, plush bed. My wakeup call will come sooner than I would like. I toss and turn, attempting to get Connor’s gorgeous blue eyes out of my mind. Near one in the morning, I tiptoe into the sitting room in search of a water.
“Where are you going?” His deep, growly voice startles me. Sitting up, he flicks on the small lamp near the couch.
Turning to face him is a mistake. I want to explore every inch of him when I see him fully clothed. Connor shirtless is remarkable even in the dim light. His chest is well defined, and his arms are threaded with muscle. That doesn’t even take into consideration his abs—ripples and ridges that I could use to wash my lingerie. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I wanted a water.”
“Want to talk about why you can’t sleep?”
No. Yes. I want to run my hands over every inch of your body to see if the heat was real. I want to press my lips to yours to see if the attraction isn’t only in my head. That you feel it too. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the flutters I feel in my belly when he’s near me. “I’m fine. Thanks for the offer though.”
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“Yes, just the water. Good night, Connor.”
“Good night, Calliope.”
I feel his eyes on me as I walk away. It isn’t unwelcome either, which is a change for me. I’ve been alone for the last twenty years—not literally, but it feels that way. Everyone in my life is here because of something I do for them, like provide a paycheck or pay for a long-term vacation. While that’s partially true for Connor, he’s different from the rest of the people that work for me and previous security.
I climb beneath the sheets, which are already cold, and attempt to push the image of Connor’s bare chest out of my mind. There’s no chance of that happening. The last time I ached for a release was… so long ago. I slide my hand beneath the satiny edge of my shorts and dip below the lace trim of my panties. Images of Connor’s eyes and his naked torso flit around in my head while I rub circles around the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. All it takes is for me to imagine my fingers as his before I shudder harder than I ever have before. I purposely roll over onto my belly to stifle the sounds of my climax from reaching his ears in the adjoining room. With that need sated for a little while, I succumb to the pull of sleep.
When I leave my room the next morning, Connor is preparing a cup of coffee. “Morning. How do you take this?”
“I can make my own coffee.” The edge to my response isn’t intentional.
“I’m sure you can, but either way, I would like to know.”
“Normally, cream with two sugars. That cup is small, so I would put one sugar.”
He hands me the cup prepared exactly as I described.
“Thank you. What about you?”
“You’re welcome. If possible, I take it like you. However, I’ll drink it black if it’s all that’s available.”
A comfortable silence falls between us as we drink our first cup of the day. When he swallows the last gulp, I’m mesmerized by the movement of his throat. Who knew that, coupled with his proximity to me, would be so arousing?
After setting his cup down, he asks, “Ready to prepare for Dallas domination?”
I laugh. A smile graces Connor’s face—a genuine, melt-every-damn-thing-down smile. A smile that reaches his eyes that are a deeper shade of blue from his shirt today. If I thought he was attractive before, that smile sealed the deal.
“Yes.”
“Need me to carry anything?”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “That isn’t part of your job. I can carry my own bags. No, I don’t have anything other than my purse.”
“I appreciate that you’re independent. However, my mom would castrate me if I didn’t act gentlemanly toward any and every woman I’m with whether it’s a job or not.”
“When you speak with her next, please thank her for me and every other woman you encounter. Manners like yours are rare. She deserves some credit.”
“I’ll let her know. Ready?”
Even more than the panty-melting smile, expressive blue eyes, and mouthwatering muscles, he has a good relationship with his mom. “Yes.”
I walk beside Connor down the hall to the elevator. We step inside, I use the override code to ride straight to the garage, and the doors close. For whatever reason, I input the code wrong, or I was given the wrong code. The doors open on the fifth floor, and four people step into the car.
Connor shifts in front of me, curling one arm behind his back, pulling me in close while slowly backing me against the rear wall of the elevator. I set my hands against his back, gripping his shirt.
Despite how I should feel right now—scared, worried, angry—I can only focus on his nearness and the distinct fresh cologne he wears, which sends heat right between my thighs. It’s downright delicious. The elevator stops on the third floor, and two people exit. The remaining passengers exit at the lobby. Once the doors close, Connor steps forward and turns to check on me.
“Good?”
“Yes.” My voice sounds breathy and needy. Please don’t let him pick up on that. I don’t need to complicate this anymore. If I were honest, I would say, no, hell no. I want so much more of him, and we haven’t even kissed. The harsh reality is we likely never will.
The elevator car stops at the garage; we exit and get into the waiting car. The ride to the arena is about twenty minutes. During the drive, his phone vibrates in his pocket.
“Don’t you need to get that?” I ask.
“Not while we’re moving. I would prefer to drive.”
I nod before returning my gaze to the passing scenery. We arrive at the arena, and I start my grueling day. Once I take the stage, Connor stands dutifully within my line of sight for the entire day. Every now and then, he takes a call, but for the most part, he’s watching me. You would think it would be disconcerting. It is, but only to the extent that no one else in his position ever did it. It makes me realize that he’s exceptional at his chosen profession.
Near six in the evening, we leave the arena and return to the hotel. On the way back, we order room service. Otherwise, we don’t talk at all. As we approach the elevator in the parking garage, I shiver.
“Relax. I took care of it,” Connor murmurs.
I don’t plan on correcting his misunderstanding of the reason for my shivering. It’s the memory of being so close to him, not fear. “Thank you,” I manage and follow him into the elevator.
Chapter Six
Connor
To say I’m a fan of music is to say I listen when I work out or while I drive. However, seeing how hard Calliope works makes me think I should purchase more albums, hers and other artists. The intricacies of putting on a concert far exceed what I expected. Perhaps she controls more than others, but either way, it’s quite involved. She was up near five working out in her room and ready to leave for rehearsal before seven.
I studied her all day. She’s meticulous and exacting. Watching her take control of everyone is mesmerizing. When she says something, everyone moves to accommodate what she needs. The crew moved a set part so she wouldn’t trip, the backup dancers rehearsed a dance segment seven times before they got it right enough for her to move on. She performed each song once at a lower volume to protect her voice. Calliope commands attention from everyone in the room. Can’t say I blame them. She has mine. She grabbed my attention when she asked questions through the door. When she opened the door, the petite woman took my breath away.
Now, we’re back at the hotel. Callio
pe is changing while I wait for dinner. When she emerges from her bedroom, her hair is twisted into a long braid hanging over her shoulder. She’s dressed in yoga pants and a tee. Not comfortable lounge yoga pants, no. Hers are of the skintight variety. Keeping my interest in her at bay increases in difficulty every minute.
When someone knocks on the door, I point to the bedroom. She retreats without a word. I appreciate that she’s compliant. Having me here overnight is new for her. After the server leaves, I set up our dinner on the coffee table. When I knock on her door, she doesn’t answer right away.
“Calliope, food is set.”
The door slides open, and she has a huge smile pasted on her face.
“Time to eat.” She’s beautiful when she smiles. Hell, she’s beautiful when she doesn’t. I wonder when the last time she felt safe and in control was.
I settle near the right arm of the couch, and she’s in the middle. She chose a chicken dish with vegetables while I opted for a cheeseburger, fries, and cheesecake for later. After a few bites, I glance over at her. Her plate is basically empty. Where does she put it? She’s tiny. I know she ate today, but those dance routines are no joke.
“Do you want my fries, or do you want dessert now?”
She twists and looks at me. “Thank you. I’ll have a few, and then we can eat dessert during the movie.”
“Movie?”
“Sorry, would you like to watch a movie with me? It’s kind of a preshow tradition I have.”
What man in their right mind would say no to movie night in a plush hotel suite with a gorgeous woman? None. I should, but I don’t plan on it. It’s only a movie. Plus, we’re sitting on my bed.
“Sure. Do you watch the same movie or any movie?”
Her lips curl up into a small, cute smile. “I usually choose an action movie.”
“Have at it.” I haven’t read her personal history prior to her first contract. As I said, I would much prefer she tell me herself. However, the security threats I reviewed three times over. The details about her I have learned make every nerve ending pay attention, and not only the ones I need to protect her.
She grabs a few fries before leaning over for the remote. Reaching her arm to the end table exposes an expanse of her taut abdomen. Lord help me, this woman has no idea how innately sexy she is. I refocus on something unappealing to push away my inappropriate thoughts about my client. How did Jake keep his head straight while protecting Norah?
That’s easy to answer, he didn’t. Jake already had a preexisting friends-with-benefits relationship with Norah. His attraction to her wasn’t new, though it did mess with his head. Right now is one of the times I wish my sister were here. I miss her each day. Mara would know what to say. Her advice would probably be to date Calliope. I suppose I want someone to tell me my attraction to her is completely normal and expected. My twin sister died after a seizure in her classroom a little over six years ago. The notification we received while deployed is exactly the type no one ever wants to get. Mara was prepared to receive that phone call for both Jake and me. Afterward, not only did Jake wall himself off from everyone, including me, he buried himself in the remainder of our deployment until the end of his contract. After that he formed Blackthorne Security. I was his first call. Leaving the military to work with Jake was the best decision I ever made. Not fighting him on this assignment may be the next best one.
“Why action movies?” I ask.
She turns to me, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s the only type that I might be able to stay awake until the end. More importantly action movies have the best eye candy. I mean Gerard Butler and Chris Hemsworth are hands-down greater than Ben Stiller and Dermot Mulroney. Plus, all the actresses in action movies are gorgeous and badass.”
I’m going to leave alone the fact that she equated someone who looks like me to eye candy. Doesn’t she realize she’s gorgeous and badass like Gal Gadot and Scarlett Johansson? “Fair enough” is all I can manage in reply.
She opts for Thor and curls her legs to her left. Without thinking I rest my arm along the back of the couch. About a half hour into the movie, she yawns and leans her head back against the cushions. I’m entranced by her scent—floral and something I can’t place, sandalwood if I had to guess. Her breathing slows, and she slides toward me. Her head falls against my upper chest. Being here in this position with this hardworking, talented, and breathtakingly beautiful woman is not helping me keep my job requirements and my personal desires separate.
I’m torn between carrying her to bed and staying here with her snuggled against me. My gentlemanly manners win out over my desire to stay here with her until morning. I slide one arm around her back and one beneath her knees and rise from my seat. Calliope cradled against my chest is perfection.
I lower her to the bed and cover her with the duvet folded at the bottom of her bed.
Her eyes flutter open. “Thank you, Connor. I haven’t felt safe enough to do that in a very long time.”
“You’re welcome. Sleep well, Calliope.”
I close her door and exhale slowly. I wash up and review the new intel from Blaine. Madeleine Wilton, her agent, is well-known and has a stellar reputation. She has no criminal record and doesn’t raise any concern for me. The report for Bruce’s list of level-one fans is narrowed down to three names.
First, Bradley Trellis, her ex-boyfriend. Based on this report, he makes it to at least one of her shows in each city. He has a criminal record, which includes firearms possession, theft, solicitation, and harassment. According to this, he wrote letters to her after the breakup for about a year and then stopped. As far as I can tell, they haven’t had any contact since she broke up with him.
Second, Michael Bergin is an older gentleman. He writes love letters and also travels to each tour stop. Simply based on his age, I don’t see him being able to actually harm Calliope. She could outrun him easily even with the high heels she wears as Carys.
Finally, Theo Kellerman is a thirty-year-old man from New York. From this image, he has dusty blond hair, hazel eyes, and a medium build. He has a spotty employment history, but somehow affords tickets to her shows as well as frequent backstage access. No criminal record as of this report. Bruce cut off his backstage access to Carys after the first stop of this tour in Chicago. He claims that he wasn’t afforded enough time during his backstage access and put up a fight when Bruce directed him to his seat for the performance. He’s threatening to harm her if he doesn’t get into the meet and greet. That threat is dated last week.
This report gives me so many questions. Does she know all this? Were her previous bodyguards incompetent, clueless, or both? Is Bruce purposely keeping her in the dark about more than the content of the threats? The bigger question is do I share this information with her?
I send Blaine a follow-up email requesting a deeper dive on all three of these men, including recent photos, if possible, as well as information on Bruce Weston and each of the security companies Bruce hired. There must be a connection somewhere.
I check on her once more—even in sleep she’s beautiful—before stretching out on the couch as best I can. I was truthful that I didn’t need a bed, but I would prefer one. I close my eyes and let sleep overtake me. In a few short hours, I’ll be back on the clock.
Chapter Seven
Calliope
Beams of sunlight stream through the double-paned windows. The last thing I recall is Connor carrying me to bed. When he shook my hand, tingles flew up my arm and warmed my entire body. That pales in comparison to being held against his hard, sculpted chest. I haven’t let anyone in, not completely since my foster brother. I needed someone to talk to, and he was there for me, short-lived though it was. I’m drawn to Connor. Not simply because I feel safe with him, but on a deeper level, a level that means I could share everything about my past and he would understand.
I roll out of the bed and move into the bathroom. As I finish brushing, I hear a soft knock on my door.
“Come
in.”
“Morning. Breakfast is here.”
I gather from his glistening skin and the slightly increased pace of this breathing, he was working out in some way. Does he always have to look delicious? “Thanks, I’ll be right out. I have some more time today.”
“When do you want to leave?”
“Near noon.”
“Go back to bed. I can get you fresh food in a few hours.” He smiles and retreats to the sitting room.
Even if I wanted to, I can’t go back to sleep. I join Connor for breakfast and share the set up for the day. “After we arrive at the arena, I’ll go to wardrobe and check my costume changes for the show. After that I do vocal warm-ups, walk through my performance again, and then sit for makeup. There’s a meet and greet at the arena that starts two hours before showtime. It’ll last for almost an hour.”
“Okay. I’ll be beside you every moment until you take the stage, and then I’ll be stage right for the entire performance. You’ll be sick of my face by the end of the night.”
“Not likely.”
He shifts in his seat. He’s nervous or concerned.
Yes, I’m attracted to you too. “What do you need to know?”
His gaze lifts from his plate to me. “How much control do you have over your life? I mean, who controls your hotel bookings, your security, your budget, etc.”
He’s worried about someone in my circle. That can’t be good. “When we scheduled the tour, I selected the arena locations, hotels, and flight times. I worked with the choreographer for the dance routines and the band for the vocal arrangements. Bruce handles my personal security, interfaces with arena security, ground transportation, and other logistics. I have access to my personal accounts to pay my bills, shop, etc. I handle the receipts and bills from my performances with Olivia Council, the CFO of my corporation. Madeleine brings me options for future projects, like a new album, a movie, or whatever.”