Rian scowled. “Now you’re just talking out of your ass. You know I don’t do that. If you don’t have anything worthwhile to add, I’m going to go.”
“Go get some coffee, you mean grouch. It’s just for a few days. You can handle this. Laci says hi,” he added and Rian grumbled but replied in kind.
His brother had married country superstar Laci McCall, but they’d known her before she’d hit it big and he’d always thought Laci was the best of people. How his brother managed to snag that diamond, he’d never know. Aw, hell, he was just being a surly jerk. Kane and Laci were the real deal and he knew it. If he weren’t in such a foul mood, he’d admit that Kane was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.
“Do you need any help with this case?” Kane asked, breaking into Rian’s thoughts.
“No, I’m good. Like you said, it’s just a few days. I think I can handle Miss Sassy Pants for that amount of time. Anything longer and I might need backup.”
“You got it.”
Rian clicked off and sighed. His head throbbed and the sunlight stabbing him in the eyeballs wasn’t helping any. He needed coffee and he needed it fast. After a quick check on CoCo, he found her dead to the world, lightly snoring and drooling on her pillow. Ha! If he were an asshole, he’d snap a pic of that and post it to social media. Instead he returned to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.
Of course, as luck would have it, no simple coffee machine around. Just one of those fancy single-cup coffee things that he couldn’t make heads or tails of, which meant he had to make do with a glass of iced tea that he managed to make on the fly. It was better than nothing but it didn’t compare to the kind of brew he needed to wake up completely.
He was midway through the glass when CoCo stumbled in, bleary-eyed and looking like something the cat dragged in, and he couldn’t stop the smirk that followed.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked sourly, going to that fancy machine and popping in a pod on autopilot, because he was certain she could barely see two steps in front of her. “Why are you still here?”
“I told you why I’m here,” he answered, more amused than he should be to see her hungover. He saw an opportunity to get some coffee and acted on it. “How about a truce?” he suggested and she stopped to stare at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, we got off on the wrong foot. I’m here to protect you for a handful of days and since there’s not much we can do about it, we might as well try to get along. I’ll tell you what...you fix me up one of those fancy cups of coffee from your pod machine and I’ll forget about what an ungrateful jerk you were to me last night after I saved your bacon. Sound like a deal?” He tacked on a smile for good measure. Time to make lemonade out of lemons. He was good at that.
Except CoCo didn’t seem to appreciate his peace offering. She grabbed her coffee and squared her shoulders, the scent of freshly brewed goodness teasing him in the worst way, as she said, “I’m pretty sure they sell coffee at the gas station down the street.” Then, blowing on her no doubt delicious coffee, she left him standing there.
Without any coffee.
Well. Hell.
* * *
WHAT WAS HE still doing here? She sipped at her coffee, waiting for the caffeine jolt so her brain could function. She’d thought for sure he would’ve bailed last night after she’d given him the brush-off. He was like a cursed penny that kept showing up in her purse.
Grabbing her cell, she quickly dialed her father. Time to get to the bottom of this situation. She couldn’t have Captain Buzzkill shadowing her every move.
“Babbo,” she greeted her father warmly in Italian, “how are you this morning?”
“Malissimo, child,” Enzo responded with a heavy sigh that pinched at her earlier pique. “Have you met the man I’ve hired to watch over you?”
“Ah, yes, actually, I have,” she answered, biting her lip, wondering how to break the news that she wanted him to fire Rian. “About that... I don’t think he’s a good fit for me. I think I’ll be fine without a babysitter, Babbo. I’m a big girl now. Besides, I doubt we have anything to truly worry about. Perhaps you’re just being a little too cautious?”
“Contessa, I will not argue the point with you,” Enzo said sternly. Her father only used her given name when he was either fed up or very angry. She may have her father wrapped around her finger but she still shivered when he used that particular tone of voice with her. “Rian Dalton is the best and I trust you in his care. You will do as he says. I have the FBI here with me, working on who is behind this terrorism, but I don’t want to worry about you. Am I clear?”
Damn. That didn’t go as she’d planned. “But, Babbo...he’s such a...” She wrestled with the right word. Jerk came to mind but it wasn’t just that. He was...unaffected by her in any way. And she found that to be a flaw she couldn’t abide. “I’m sure there are plenty of other qualified professionals out there that we can swap him out for. How about I look around and take that load off your shoulders? I would be willing to do that for you.”
“Contessa! You will do no such thing. You will abide by my decision. End of discussion.”
Should she try again? Under most circumstances she could twist her father into a pretzel to get what she wanted but she sensed this was not one of those times. She’d never heard him so gruff with her. Maybe he was really worried. “Okay, Babbo, I’ll stick with Rian,” she said glumly. “But I think this is ridiculous. You’re going to realize you’re overreacting and then I’ll get the satisfaction of saying that I was right.”
“Perhaps. But until then...you stick with the man I hired and don’t give him any of your attitude.”
“I’ll do my best,” she replied, though she couldn’t promise. There was something about Rian that rubbed her wrong. Maybe it was the smug smile or the way he didn’t bat an eyelash at her looks or her body. She was an expert at wielding sex appeal and most men didn’t stand a chance when she put her mind to it but Rian seemed to look right through her. It made her grumpy.
“Grazie, dolcezza,” Enzo said with a sigh as he clicked off, and she genuinely wished her father wasn’t so burdened by what was happening. She adored her Babbo—Italian for daddy—even if she was, admittedly, spoiled rotten as some might say. She tossed her phone onto the bed and reluctantly returned to the kitchen, where Rian was trying to figure out the Keurig coffeemaker. She didn’t want to be nice but a handful of days would pass at a snail’s pace if they were constantly sniping at each other, so she pushed him aside and fixed him a cup of coffee, thrusting it at him with a glower when it was finished.
“Ah, thank God,” Rian said, taking a grateful sip. “That iced tea wasn’t going to work. I was ten seconds away from stuffing you in the car and driving to that gas station to get a cup.”
“I guess I should be thankful for small favors,” she quipped sourly, watching him enjoy his coffee with a critical eye. He was good-looking. In a smug sort of way. “So, apparently my father believes there is a credible threat and that you are the best person for the job in order to keep me safe. Personally, I think this will all blow over and all that will be at risk is my social life. But my father is really stressed and I don’t think he’s going to change his mind until he gets the all-clear from the FBI, so I guess we’re stuck together for the next few days.”
“Glad to hear you’re coming around,” he said from above the rim of his coffee cup. “And for what it’s worth...your father is concerned because the threats are becoming more personal. You’re his only child. It’s only natural for him to want to protect you.”
“Of course,” she said stiffly. “I’m just saying, this is all pretty over the top. People pop off their mouths all the time. It doesn’t mean they actually plan to follow through.”
“True. But then, sometimes they do. That’s not exactly something you want to take
a chance with, you know?”
She nodded, grudgingly ceding the point. “So what now? I’m already bored out of my brain.”
“Not my job to entertain you, sweetheart...just to protect you.”
“Wrong. If you want to keep me out of harm’s way, you’d better find a way to keep me busy. Otherwise, I’ll have to find my own fun, and who knows what that might entail.”
“Do you have a death wish or something? This shit is real. Not some game.”
She shrugged. “Says you. I think it’s all a waste of time. A waste of my time. I’m only indulging my father because he’s a sweet old man and I adore him.”
“Your social calendar will recover,” Rian said drily, finishing his coffee and rinsing the cup off to leave in the sink. “But I have more bad news—we’re not staying here.”
“And just where exactly are we supposed to go?” she queried, her irritation ramping up. “I’m not about to hole up in some hovel if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about it, princess. It’ll be safe—that’s all that matters.” He shoved away from the counter and waved her out of the kitchen with a curt command of “Go pack,” and she cast a dirty glare his way before returning to her room.
Just where the hell did he plan to take her?
Good God, she hoped it was someplace five-star. She just wasn’t in the mood to rough it.
4
HE DIDN’T EXACTLY have a safe house but he knew a hotel that was fairly small and off the beaten path that would serve his purpose. The only problem? It wasn’t much to look at. However, that was the point. No one was going to look for an heiress at a two-star hotel that was built in the ’70s and hadn’t been updated since it was erected. And, okay, maybe he was just a little entertained by the idea of subjecting the spoiled brat to something a little less luxurious than she was accustomed to, but it was safe and that was his primary concern.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” she asked, returning with a designer rolling suitcase. “I prefer something along the lines of the Biltmore but I’ll settle for the Four Seasons.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take that under consideration. Are you ready?”
She looked at him with irritation. “I’m standing here with luggage. What do you think that means?”
“All right, then. Let’s hit the road.”
She grumbled something under her breath but didn’t repeat herself when he gave her a sharp look. They climbed into his Range Rover and took off.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked, suspicious. “You’ve been the picture of grumpy since the moment we met, yet you’re smiling like you just won the lottery.”
“What? A man’s not allowed to smile in your company?” he asked, smothering his grin when he realized he was borderline gloating in anticipation. Was he being a jerk? Possibly. But she deserved it. He was doing this for all the men out there who’d had the misfortune to snag this girl’s eye. No doubt, CoCo had left behind a string of men after she’d had her fun. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride. We’re almost there.”
She looked out the window with a frown. “Just where exactly are you taking me? This neighborhood doesn’t look safe at all. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“So far, that’s debatable.”
“Just relax, princess. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s protect overprivileged, spoiled heiresses.”
“Exactly how do you get jobs? You have the manners of a pig. Just so you know, so far I haven’t been very impressed with your methods. And in case you haven’t noticed—people care about what I have to say. One bad review from me and you’re finished.”
“Have you noticed that you don’t have many friends? It might be because you’re unbearable to be around.”
Her indignant sputter was entertaining. “You don’t get to judge me. You’re no one. And when this is over my life will go on and yours will be ruined.”
Oh, she had balls. “Let me get this straight...you’re saying when I’m done protecting your ass, you’re going to ruin my career just because I don’t jump when you snap your fingers? Hmm, that’s not a glowing recommendation for protecting you at all. Maybe I ought to just dump you off at the nearest corner and let you fend for yourself.” He barked a laugh at the idea. “You wouldn’t last a day.”
She shrugged. “You’re the one who believes there’s a real threat out there, not me. This is all going to blow over. Just wait and see.”
“Maybe you’re right. But I’m getting paid either way and since you’re not the one signing my paycheck just zip your lip and sit tight.”
She jerked her gaze away from him with a delicate sniff of annoyance and he had to stop himself from chortling. Why was he baiting her? He’d never acted like this with a client. Not even with the snobbiest, but for some reason he just couldn’t shut it down. Her ego needed an ass-whupping in the worst way and he was more than willing to be the one to deliver.
He took the exit ramp and within a block the hotel came into sight. Just as he expected she started to screech.
“Oh, hell no. You’re out of your ever-loving mind if you think I’m staying here. It doesn’t even look like it has running water or indoor plumbing!”
He put the Range Rover into Park and climbed out with a chuckle. “I promise you there is hot and cold running water. But you’re out of luck if you’re looking for room service.”
She quickly followed, the bee in her bonnet buzzing loudly. “This place is disgusting. I wouldn’t let a stray dog sleep here. And you think I’m supposed to sleep here? You are out of your mind! If I’d wanted to go camping, I would’ve booked a trip to Yosemite.”
“Somehow I can’t imagine you camping anywhere.”
“That’s not the point. I’m not staying here.” She stamped her foot. “I told you I would settle for the Four Seasons, not this disgusting edge-of-the-world shack.”
“Calm down, princess. It’s clean, it’s safe and exactly where we need to be right now. No one is going to look for you here.”
“Of course not! I feel like I’ve been kidnapped. I wouldn’t stay here if my life depended on it.”
“Interesting choice of words. Actually, your life does depend on it. Now come on, let’s go.”
“I won’t and you can’t make me,” she said, standing her ground with her arms crossed.
“Actually, I can make you. I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you into the hotel room if that’s what you prefer. I aim to please.” He took a step toward her and she paled.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me. You’re nothing but a job, princess. And making sure that you are safe is my number-one priority. How you get there or your relative comfort means nothing.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I’ve been called worse and by better people. Let’s go.”
He was almost hoping that she would continue to be a pill but she grabbed her suitcase handle and jerked it toward her, stomping behind him. He could almost feel the heat from her glare burning a hole into his back but as long as she was moving her feet, he didn’t care. He made quick work of checking in under false names and then took them straight to the room. He opened the door and saw the problem as soon as she did. He looked at her with a slight apology. “This room used to have two beds.”
Her expression withered. “I guess you’ll be sleeping on the floor or in the bathtub, then.”
“I’m not sleeping in the bathtub,” he told her. “We’re both adults and if you can keep your hands to yourself, we’ll be okay.”
She gasped. “As if I would ever touch you. I’d rather die first.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he said with a short scowl. “Besides, you’re no
t my type, honey.”
“Like I believe that,” she muttered. “I saw the way you looked at me when we first met.”
“That was an act,” he said, happy to throw a bucket of water on her smug comment. “I prefer my women to be a lot less spawn of the devil, more of the human variety.”
“Ha-ha. Yes, well, women bought by the hour tend to be more agreeable.” She cast a disparaging look around the room. “I’ll bet you bring your girls here. Seems appropriate for that kind of commerce.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Careful, princess. One of these days your mouth is going to overload your ass.”
She ignored his warning. “I can’t believe you brought me to this place and now you think you’re going to sleep in the same bed with me. Unbelievable. Maybe I’ll just sleep in the car.”
“Negative. You stay where I can keep an eye on you. That’s the whole point of coming to a place like this. It might not look like much but from a defensive standpoint it’s pretty solid. A place like the Biltmore or the Four Seasons is a logistical nightmare. Too many people coming and going and it’s way too easy to pretend to be someone you’re not. Here, there’s no room service—which means no one is coming to the door that hasn’t been invited and all points of entry are easily watched. So, it’s not the lap of luxury but it will serve its purpose.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, but something he said must’ve made sense because she stopped arguing even if she added, “I’m still not sleeping with you. You can take the floor.” She moved past him and closed herself in the bathroom.
“Just so you know, the idea of sleeping next to you isn’t high on my priority list, either,” he called out and she barked an incredulous laugh, mocking him.
As if he’d want to snuggle up to that spitting cobra? He’d rather chew off his own foot.
This was going to be the hardest he’d ever worked for a dollar, that was for damn sure.
Sex, Lies and Designer Shoes Page 3