Minding Amy (4 page)

He observed her for a moment, in silence. "Okay, this is the deal."

The deal
? Amy gave a mental groan.

"You get the feature, a small budget, and the use of a pool car."

That wasn't so bad after all.

"Well, thanks." She broke into a triumphant smile.

He held up his hands. "Hold up, there's more."

Amy waited.

"You'll have to report to Fiona, of course." He waited to see her reaction.

Amy cringed internally. Fiona Richards. His deputy editor was not the easiest person in the world to work with. Reporting to Fiona reduced even the toughest of journalists to shivering wrecks after a few of her choice remarks on their copy. "I see."

"Amy, it would be unethical for me to deal with this directly, even if you weren't my daughter, you have to see that."

She nodded. "I understand, and I certainly don't want to look as if I'm getting any favors."

"Quite so."

"I want to be clear that I came to you as a journalist who wants to show a bit of potential in a different field, not your daughter."

He seemed to accept that.

"Well," she continued, giving him a half-hearted smile. "If that's the only payback for getting the go-ahead, I guess its not–"

"No," he interrupted, "I'm afraid that's not all. As part of the deal you also get a traveling companion."

Amy frowned. "What?"

"I want someone to go on the job with you."

"Oh no, no way," Amy responded, annoyed, shaking her head. "I refuse to share my scoop with another journalist."

Her father flashed her a quick smile. "That's my girl." His eyes twinkled with humor at her remark. "No, I'm not referring to another journalist. What I want is for you to have someone with you, so you are safe."

Amy stared at him, confused.

"Trust me. I've got someone from a highly respected company we use for security and so forth–"

"A bodyguard?" Amy interrupted.

"I'd rather think of him as a minder."

A minder
? He had to be kidding. That was even worse than having to share the feature with someone. It was as if he thought she was still a child who needed babysitting. Her chin lifted. "The last thing I need is some lumbering oaf who will do nothing but slow me down."

"Your pride will get the better of you one day, Madam." The comment, though chastising, was delivered with relative good humor. "That's the deal and you either take it or leave it." He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

Bloody hell
. He really wasn't kidding. If she wanted the job, she would have to endure the indignity of having a bodyguard trail along behind her. Her blood had reached boiling point. "No way. You wouldn't set a minder on any other journalist."

"I'm not having my daughter poking around in what might be a murder case without protection!" He frowned heavily, his business demeanor entirely vanishing for a moment.

A mite subdued, she tried not to pout. "Dad, it's not a murder case."

"It might be." He sighed. "Trixie," he added, in a more cajoling tone, "your mother would never forgive me. Just let this guy come along with you and you've got your scoop."

She didn't respond. She couldn't trust herself not to say the wrong thing and lose any chance she almost had.

"As I said, I've been in touch with a reputable company. One of their best men came over yesterday afternoon and I've briefed him about the whole set up."

Amy's mouth opened in dismay. He hadn't even waited for her to agree.

He held up his hands and shrugged. "As I said, that's the deal."

She sat in silence, her thoughts racing as she tried to think of a worthy retort. There didn't seem to be a forthcoming solution, besides, Jake's occult references weren't far from her mind and as long as the guy didn't get under her feet and wasn't too unbearable to have around, she may well feel more relaxed about the heebie-jeebie aspect of the case.

"Well, do you give in?"

She felt like she was being tricked into something and she resented it, so she made him hang a minute longer.

He drummed his fingers on the desk, then gestured at the outside office. "You can get stuck in as soon as you agree…he's next door. I'll call him in whenever you're ready to get started."

Oh, deep joy, the man is actually here already
. Dear old Dad had set her up good and proper. "It doesn't look as if I have a lot of choice," she replied, grimly.

"Good girl." He leaned forward and hit the intercom. "Alison, can you ask Mr. Armitage to step in now, please." He turned back to Amy. "He's a good man. I liked him a lot so don't worry about having him come along with you."

Amy shook her head and shot him a stern glance. He ignored it and stood up to greet the man who was entering the room.

"Amy, your escort for the duration of the case, Mr. Sebastian Armitage."

Amy glanced over. She noticed the dapper suit first. She didn't know exactly what she was expecting, but she had pictured some sort of bouncer-type, not someone who looked as if he had stepped out of a top fashion magazine. Her gaze lifted. Tall too, and well built. And…and a strong jaw line. That lopsided smile. She blinked, then her gaze met those gray-green eyes.
Unmistakable
.

"Ms. Norton." He walked over with his hand held out to her.

Amy froze to her chair. What the hell was going on? Was she still asleep, dreaming her lusty dreams about the hunk? It couldn't be. It really couldn't be him, here, at work, in her father's office.

"I'm pleased to be working with you," he said.

After a moment she managed to scramble forward in her seat and put out her hand. He leaned in and grasped it firmly, applying enough pressure to assure her he was indeed real. Incredibly, he winked at her, as if to indicate her hadn't forgotten their previous encounter.

"Um, yes." Her hand flew into her hair when he released it, her fingers fiddling nervously. "I don’t think you're needed here, Mr..."

"Armitage, Sebastian Armitage, but please, let's not be formal. Call me Sebastian."

He was blatantly amused by the situation. How dare he? Amy straightened her shoulders and fixed him with what she hoped was a steady gaze. "As I said, I don't think you are needed here."

"Trixie?" Her father spoke with a warning tone in his voice. "Take a seat Mr. Armitage. We'll see if we can work this out."

The man, Sebastian, sat easily into the seat alongside hers. Amy tried not to gawp at him. He was relaxed, damn him. He was comfortable with this. She was startled and confused and he didn't seem the least bit surprised. How could that be?

Flustered, she stared at her dad. "This is a really bad idea."

Her father frowned at her.

"Ms. Norton," Sebastian interrupted. "I assure you I won't cramp your style." He paused and smiled at her.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? She flashed him a warning glance.

"Your father has told me about the feature you’re working on. I’ll be in the background in case you need any assistance."

Her stomach flipped and a heady rush of nerves coursed over her as she considered having him with her, for the duration of the case. Laughing at her. "I don’t need a minder," she snapped.

"I'm sure you don't," he drawled, looking at her with amusement.

She tried to focus on the conversation. It was hard with those gray-green eyes teasing her, and that sensuous mouth so near and looking oh-so-ready to kiss. "Besides, I have to leave London immediately to pick up the trail."

"That's fine by me." His eyes twinkled.

God, he was gorgeous. Amy felt increasingly light-headed as she began to consider what it would be like being alone with him, out on the road for the next few days with the sexy stranger she'd spent the past night fantasizing about. One look at the nonchalant posture of that attractive masculine body had her senses keen and honed. She tore her gaze away, focusing on her dad. "I'm sure Mr. Armitage has other commitments that are more important than trailing along with me."

"I am single and independent, if that is what you wanted to know, Ms. Norton."

She glared at him. That wasn't what she meant and he knew it. He was ruffling her feathers deliberately. Not only that, but there was a brooding expression in his eyes and it made her doubt her ability to remain professional in his company. This job was important to her—vital, if she was to spread her wings as a journalist.

"Trixie, love," her father interrupted. "I know you want to do this job on your own, but that's no reason to be cautious about Mr. Armitage."

"I can understand Ms. Norton being cautious," Sebastian interjected. "After all, she doesn't know me from Adam."

Amy's hands clutched at the arm of her chair. Was that some sort of reference to her behavior the evening before and the mix up?

He watched her reaction then broke into a warm smile. It was friendly and intimate. Yes, he had meant the remark as a joke, but a joke between the two of them. Face it, she told herself, he was bound to be amused by the situation. If things had been reversed, she would have been pretty darn amused too.

While he waited for her to respond, he gently shifted his cuff with his fingers, drawing her gaze to his hands. She recalled the strong arm steadying her at the bar. What would those hands feel like, touching her, holding her? She smoothed her outfit and crossed her legs high on the thigh in an attempt to quell the surge of restless need that began to rise when she allowed her mind to wander.

His gaze followed the movement of her legs, and his mouth gave a gentle twitch, as if he was restraining an idle remark. When he looked back up and their eyes met, molten heat traversed the space between them. Amy remembered the kiss he had given her on the back of her hand and the suggestive look he'd had in his eyes then. He’d been interested. She'd sensed it then and the way he was looking at her now only served to confirm it. Her pulse raced, her mind tumbling with images of them together, naked and alone.

But this was about her scoop.

It was vital she remember that, and not let some cheeky bloke distract her from her goal, no matter how attractive he was. She cleared her throat. "Right. Could you be ready to leave by seven this evening?"

"Absolutely."

"In that case, Mr. Armitage, you'd better pack your overnight bag."

His eyebrows lifted, his handsome mouth sloping into an insinuating smile.

That was the last straw. Heat flared in her face. This had turned into the biggest embarrassment of all time. She nodded at her dad then stood up and quickly headed for the door.

By the time she reached for the door handle, Sebastian's hand was on it.

She glared at him. He opened the door for her. She attempted to dart off down the corridor but after he closed the door he was hot on her heels.

He stopped before she reached the reception area where Alison's desk was located. "We're not done yet, Ms. Norton."

He rested a strong hand on each of her shoulders, holding her as if they'd known each other for years, as if yesterday's incident meant he could.

Her mouth opened in disbelief. "Let me go or I'll call for help."

"Where are we meeting?"

Damn
. She'd forgotten to mention that. Now she'd made herself look even more of a twit. She attempted to jerk free of his grip but he moved closer still, locking her in against the wall of the corridor with the bulk of his body. He was so close that her skin tingled, her traitorous body responding intimately to his proximity.

"You weren't this business-like yesterday," he commented in an insinuating tone, knocking the conversation right down onto a personal level.

"That was an error on my part and you know it."

"An error?" He moved one hand and ran his finger along her jaw. "I didn't think so, and neither did you…at the time."

Lust surged through her, threatening to steal away her last ounce of poise. The way he touched her was so intimate and suggestive. It made the pulse in her groin thud wildly. "I'm not happy about having a minder," she blurted, latching onto that fact.