by Selma Wolfe
“I see what you mean,” he said finally, as Hope turned to shut the trapdoor. “You’re beautiful like this.”
Hope paused for a fraction of a second before her arm followed through on its swing and the trapdoor fell into place. She gave Rick a tiny incredulous look and then hurried for the door, her face hot.
The door gave a tiny pressure-rattle and she fell back instantly, her shoulders blocking Rick’s torso and her hand going for the knife hidden in the inside pocket of her jacket.
There was a thud of boots outside. A gruff voice yelled, “Police!” and the door swung open. Hope didn’t relax until two officers filed inside with guns drawn and all the right equipment on their backs, their eyes the appropriate shade of cautious that she’d seen on every cop making a visit like this.
“Is the perimeter clear?” she asked straight off.
The cop in front made the slightly surprised she speaks our language face that she was also quite used to seeing. After a tiny pause he nodded. Hope watched him almost fondly. Cops as a rule were much quicker to trust than people in her professional - but then, cops dealt with the masses and, as Hope tried to remind herself, the masses were usually fairly decent.
“The man handcuffed in the hall – you did that?” the cop asked. Hope was impressed. This guy was perceptive.
She stepped forward and they shook hands. “Hope Lasser. I have experience in the executive protection industry,” she told him, and hoped he wouldn’t ask any other questions.
“Tim Calloway, and this is my partner Gabe.” He gestured to a short man with an impressive mustache, who nodded. “We have a few more men securing the perimeter, but everything seems to be in order. I think it was just one guy looking to party.”
Hope and Tim grinned knowingly at each other for a moment. Rick coughed.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” he said, stepping forward to shake their hands as well. The cops’ eyes went wide in recognition and Hope had to bite back a smile. Rick clapped them on the shoulder and charmed them right out the door and down the corridor.
“… You’re probably not off duty until later, but hey, I’m having another party - a bigger one - in a couple days, and you boys are welcome to come to that. Hell, bring your whole department, there’s plenty of room…”
Smart, Hope thought admiringly, with a disbelieving shake of her head. Rick could think on his feet all right. Having the whole damn police department at a party certainly couldn’t hurt.
And then she really did have to clench her jaw to hold back on a laugh when Rick glanced over his shoulder (each arm slung around one of the cops) and wholesale winked at her.
When Hope’s alarm went off the next morning she was more tempted to hit snooze than she had been in quite a while. It had been a long night, and her mind had still been running a mile a minute when she dropped into bed. The adrenaline crash had hit hard and sent her tumbling into sleep, but sharp-colored dreams had whirled around her mind all night and kept her from feeling rested.
But she’d been more tired than this before, and she had things to do (people to see, her traitor mind taunted her), so Hope rolled out of bed with a suppressed groan and set about making herself halfway presentable.
These were the kinds of mornings where having slept in your clothes almost seemed like a brilliant idea. It would be so easy just to walk out in these, Hope thought mournfully, even as she dragged herself to the closet and pulled out an identical set of black clothes.
She moved around the room silently on pure habit; the only noise to be heard was the hiss of water from the tap and the rustle of clothes sliding against her skin. Hope was tying off her usual braid when she yanked open the door and found Rick standing outside staring at her with a startled expression.
He didn’t look half as disheveled as she felt, the bastard. Somehow Rick actually looked good after the four hours of sleep he’d gotten. He was dressed casually in a fitted black shirt and dark jeans, and though his hair was still sleep-tousled, his eyes were sharp and awake.
“Uh.” Rick said, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Hope cocked an eyebrow at him. The two of them stared at each other for a second, each on one side of the door.
Then suddenly Rick gave her a smile like daybreak; wide and bright.
“I was coming to get you for breakfast,” he said. Hope wondered how long it would have taken him to knock, and let herself smile back.
Eggs were flying in the kitchen.
“I cannot believe that this sort of thing is going on,” Trinity said, punctuating her frustration with the crack of one egg after another. Hope wasn’t actually sure that the woman was making anything. Perhaps she’d figure it out as she went along. “There you were, Mr. Stone, having a nice party, and some ruffian interrupts it. In this day and age! The incivility! It’s horrible!”
“Quite,” Rick agreed, hiding a smile badly. Hope hid her own in a gulp of fantastic black coffee.
“Thank goodness Hope was there to set things straight. It’s a comfort having you around, honey, and you should know it.”
“Well,” Hope said, startled, “er… thanks very much. That’s kind of you.”
Trinity waved a spoon covered in batter, chiding Hope for something or other while Rick stared across the table with soft eyes that were darker than her coffee.
This felt like home, Hope realized, and though she reached for it, horror and dismay wouldn’t quite come.
While Trinity whirled around the kitchen like a dervish, Hope fixed Rick with a matched set of raised eyebrows and a glare. It took him a moment to look up from his notes and notice.
“Yes?” Hope didn’t want to feel pleased about the way he immediately flipped his folder of notes closed to focus on her, but she did.
“Do you really think this party is a good idea?” she asked, just as blunt as Rick in her own way. Her voice was quiet and she kept one eye on Trinity, not wanting to worry the woman further. “You’ve just had a security breach, and this is asking for all different kinds of trouble.”
Rick gave her a tired grin and rubbed a hand over his face; blew out a sigh that ruffled the papers in front of him. “I was wondering when you’d ask that,” he admitted.
“I take it that’s a no.” There was really nothing that Hope could do. Just because something was a terrible idea didn’t mean it was illegal, and she was a bodyguard, not a nanny. She had no real authority over Rick’s actions. Technically her contract specified that she could leave if Rick did anything she deemed reckless, but…
Rick’s dark eyes met hers across the table. She wasn’t leaving and she knew it.
“If I thought I could get away with it I would, honestly. But there are… reasons that it would be unwise to move the date.” He shot a furtive look at Trinity. Hope furrowed her brow in confusion, halfway to disapproval. But when Rick jerked his head toward the door and said, “Let’s take a walk,” she followed him.
As soon as they were a soundproof distance from the kitchen Hope turned an accusing look on Rick.
“I thought you said you trusted Trinity,” she said.
Oddly enough, Rick smiled at her.
“I do,” he said. “But this isn’t anything she really needs to know, and it will worry her. If I’ve learned anything from your tenure here, it’s that sometimes it’s worth making an effort to protect other people, if you can.”
For the first time in so long that she couldn’t even remember the last time, Hope stumbled. She caught herself immediately and shot the ground an accusing glare.
“Oh,” she said softly. Rick pulled back his outstretched arm.
He coughed. “Yes, well.”
Hope felt like she should say something - thank him, or maybe kiss him. No, wait, that would be unprofessional. But he looked awfully tempting, standing there with sunlight from one of the high windows falling softly over him, his hair still ruffled and his dark eyes focused wholly on her.
Maybe if she’d known where to start, she would’ve. But she didn’t
, so she ducked her head and instead mumbled, “You said there were reasons you couldn’t cancel the party?”
“What? Uh - oh. Yeah.” When she dared to look up, Rick glanced away and pulled an arm up behind his head. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even more tousled. Hope suppressed a smile. “The FDA is really close to approving work on my… project. You know, experimenting on humans that aren’t me, that kind of thing. But they’re twitchy about this stuff. I’ve got a reputation for fooling around and they don’t really trust me. And if they get the idea that criminals want my formula, for whatever reason…” Rick shrugged like he didn’t care, but Hope could see by the way his body tensed up that he did.
She thought about pointing out that his devil-may-care playboy reputation was his own fault, but it wouldn’t be helpful.
Instead she asked gently, “Would it really be so bad if this had to wait a few years?”
At her words Rick’s head snapped up and he looked so fierce that she almost stepped back. His eyes blazed and his face was set in absolute determination. She knew even before he spoke that there was no way anyone could make him waver.
“Yes,” he said decisively. “That can’t happen. Do you have any idea how many people die of infection on battlefields, or isolated places?” He shook his head. “I know that my invention can save people. I want to – I just want this one thing for myself, okay? I know I can do something over than going to meetings and signing papers. I can save people. I’ll do whatever it takes to get it into their hands as quickly as possible.”
Hope was completely out of words and oddly breathless. She nodded, not trusting her voice.
As if to counter the vehemence of his words Rick quirked a half-smile at her before turning and heading toward his office. Hope watched him go, staring at the firm line of his shoulders and his broad back.
“Hey!” she called out just before he turned the corner. Rick glanced over his shoulder questioningly. “Could - um, would you mind if I invited someone else to the party?”
Rick raised his eyebrows in surprise. Hope chose not to be offended by that. He smiled.
“Sure. You can have whatever you want,” he said easily, and she nodded her thanks.
Before she had time to even glance away, Rick gave her a full-on grin and said, “By the way, you know you’re my date for the party tomorrow, right?”
Then he disappeared around the corner and left Hope’s head full of curses against unexpectedly brilliant billionaires and their damned presumptions.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hope wasn’t given to whining, but there were limits.
“I don’t want to be your date. And I don’t wear makeup. And these shoes are ridiculous.” She crossed her arms over her chest, the shoes dangling by their straps off of one finger.
It was lucky that Rick was so laid back. Most employers probably wouldn’t be cool with their bodyguards barging into their room in a huff after being informed of the dress expectations for the night.
But then again, most people didn’t ask their bodyguards to be their dates to parties.
Rick rolled his eyes extravagantly and deftly hooked a cufflink through his sleeves.
“You do too want to be my date. Just think how convenient it’ll be. You can stop me from getting plastered and glower at everyone to your heart’s content with the perfect excuse. And you’re not even wearing the shoes yet,” he pointed out. “They might be comfortable.”
Hope looked down at the shoes Trinity had handed her in the hall. They were covered in black satin and arched up like Barbie feet. The heels were five inches tall.
She looked at Rick.
“Okay, yeah, those probably aren’t going to be very comfortable,” Rick admitted. “But Trinity picked them out, not me. Apparently you need them.” He shrugged.
Hope gritted her teeth and didn’t allow herself to look too closely at Rick. He was wearing a dark gray tuxedo as comfortably as his skin, his hair in some kind of order for once and a carefree smile quick on his lips.
“No, I don’t. I do not need these. What I need is some decent pants and flat shoes with rubber soles.” She had the horrible feeling that her words were falling on deaf ears; Rick turned away halfway through her speech and pulled something off a dark wood counter.
“Here. Take this.”
With her mouth still open to take a breath and continue ranting, Hope held out her hands obediently. Something soft fell across her palms and immediately snagged on her callouses.
She grasped the black fabric gingerly and held it up to the light.
“What… what is this?”
Rick grinned. “It’s a dress.”
She could see that. It was a long black dress that would just about sweep the floor even if she wore the skyscraper heels. The fact that it was a dress was not the problem.
“It’s… see-through,” Hope said, trying to hold it as far away from her body as possible.
Rick rolled his eyes and stepped in close. He tugged at the front of the dress, handling it without hesitation. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “Only part of the back is see-through, and that’s just an illusion anyway, there’s a slip underneath. The front is just plain black satin. Don’t worry, nobody’s going to pin an ‘A’ to your chest for wearing this.”
There was something to what he said, but Hope remained unconvinced.
“I’ll tear it,” she said. Rick made a you’re being ridiculous face, but Hope didn’t feel like she was being ridiculous.
She just couldn’t bring herself to say this is too delicate for me. Even thinking the words made her feel like a troll. It was very rare for Hope to think of her hard-earned muscles and steel reflexes as something that made her less of a woman. She kind of loathed the dress for making her feel that way, the same as she’d hated any men who made her feel that way in the past.
She’d dumped the men. Hope wasn’t sure she could get away with dumping the dress.
While she stood there staring at it, Rick slid a foot between her and her outstretched hand and suddenly it was his handsome face filling her field of vision. Hope blinked, feeling that same absurd jolt she felt every time she was forced to look, really look, at his angular jaw, bright eyes, and perfectly crooked smile.
“Please?” Rick said softly. “Trinity picked it out. You’ll hurt her feelings if you tell her you don’t like it. And… I really want to see you wear it. Even if it’s just this once.”
Hope was obviously getting soft in her old age, because she found herself glaring at Rick and stomping out of the room with the dress and heels still firmly in hand.
She got herself into the dress and heels with a minimum of struggle and took an experimental walk to the mirror. Well, she probably wasn’t going to be running any races in them, but since she had good balance already, they weren’t a huge issue. Worst-case scenario Hope figured she could yank them off her feet and run - and that would really be worst-case scenario. Her job was supposed to be to anticipate the bad things so they wouldn’t happen.
Cautiously Hope peered at the mirror.
She’d been lying when she told Rick she never wore makeup; she did, a bit, just not the heavy kind she expected most of the well-heeled women at this party would be wearing. Pure obstinacy had made her go even lighter on it tonight.
And yet… she looked pretty good. Maybe even pretty, full stop. The dress was floor-length black satin that was filmy and see-through at the top around the swooping neckline, and filled in modestly as it went down her front.
There was no hiding the hard curve of her muscle, but the soft material clung to her curves and flattered her body. Hope found that she liked the way she looked, even with so much more skin exposed than she was used to. For once she hadn’t pulled her hair back entirely; she’d pinned most of it up in a bun but let a few tendrils hang forward to frame her face.
“You’ll do,” she told the mirror.
A quick glance at the clock on her nightstand told her that she couldn’t af
ford to give much more time over to vanity. The party was starting in… now, actually, the party was starting right now.
She grabbed her purse. It would be suspiciously heavy to anyone else, but nobody else would be holding it.
She stepped outside the door and Rick immediately offered his arm before giving her a long, appraising look. Hope was going to have to talk to him about the creeping issue at some point.
“You look beautiful,” Rick said. Coming from him the statement sounded simple and honest, in a way that Hope had never quite heard it spoken before. Not to her, not to anyone. Usually those words were tinged by lust, or envy, or affection. Rick said them with his eyes wide open and his face an open book, like the words were her right. “You look beautiful and strong and smart all at the same time. I can’t remember ever wanting anybody as much as I want you right now.”
Her throat clenched. Around the tightness she managed to say, “You aren’t supposed to say things like that.”
Rick half-smiled and took a step toward her.
“Why not?” he asked softly. “I’m not trying to do anything - well, I suppose I am, but that’s not why I’m saying it.”
“Because people don’t tell the truth like you do.” Her breath was coming hard now. Rick was too close; she could feel the warmth of him crowding up close, her skin sensitive in this too-thin dress. “And that - that can’t be the truth anyway.”
The words cost her. She hated to admit to weakness; to acknowledge her shortcomings. It made her feel pathetic and small. But it was honest, and that felt very important right now. Somebody needed to be the voice of reason. This kind of thing - it just didn’t happen. And even if it did, it couldn’t - not to her.
A large hand came up and hovered by her cheek. Hope suppressed a shiver as Rick’s fingertips grazed the line of her jaw.
“I’d like to explain to you, in detail, how completely wrong you are,” he said matter-of-factly, his voice low and intimate. Hope couldn’t bear to look at his face.