Necessary Risk (Bodyguard) (21 page)

“You find something?”

“You could say that. Not related to your case, though. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Carter or your client.” He tipped his head toward the back office, and tension radiated across Sean’s shoulders.

“Shit.”

“I’m heading out and didn’t want to leave him on his own.”

“Thanks.” Sean clapped Clay on the shoulder as he walked by him, making his way to his father’s office. He pushed open the glass door, and the smell of scotch hit him like a punch in the gut. His father sat behind his desk, a tumbler clutched in one hand. A bottle of Glenfiddich sat on the desk beside him, glowing green in the light from the computer screen. He didn’t look up as Sean entered and sank down into one of the leather chairs facing his desk.

“What the hell are you doing here?” his dad asked, the words slightly slurred. He dragged a hand through his hair and took a healthy swallow of scotch.

“Thought you might want a drinking buddy.”

Patrick studied him for a second before nodding gruffly and pulling a second tumbler out from a drawer. He poured a small amount of the amber liquid into the glass and passed it to Sean, who took it and sat back in the chair, one ankle propped on the opposite knee.

For several moments they drank in silence. The scotch burned a path down the center of Sean’s chest. He hated this. Hated seeing this man struggle so much with a pain that was entirely Sean’s fault.

He took another sip, trying to burn away the guilt.

“Today would’ve been our fortieth anniversary.” Patrick’s voice was loud in the quiet office, the only other sound the whir of the computer.

Shit. Sean rubbed a hand over his mouth and set down his tumbler, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his thighs. “I’m sorry.”

His father nodded again and splashed more scotch into his own glass. He’d heard Sean say those two words so many times over the past ten years that they’d probably lost all meaning. But it didn’t matter. Sean would keep saying them. It was his fault his mother was gone. His fault his father drank.

Patrick leaned back in his chair, a faraway look in his eyes. “She was so beautiful. So smart. So loving. I never quite felt that I deserved her. Maybe I didn’t. I didn’t get to keep her for nearly long enough.”

Sean bowed his head, listening, knowing there was nothing he could say.

“She had the best laugh. And she never took any shit from anyone. I always loved that about her. She was so strong. But that strength didn’t harden her. It just made her better.”

“I miss her too.”

Patrick leveled his gaze at Sean and let out a short, sharp breath. “You’re sorry, and you miss her. What fucking good does that do me?”

Sean clenched his jaw, having known it was coming and refusing to get drawn into a pointless argument. “Let me drive you home.” He stood and pulled his keys from his pocket.

“I’ll take a cab.”

“Dad.” Sean crossed his arms. “Please.”

His father just stared at him, his eyes burning holes right through him. “Leave me alone.”

“I want to make sure you get home OK.”

Patrick set his glass down with a loud clack, scotch sloshing over the side and onto his desk. “Just go.” His nostrils flared when Sean didn’t move. “Go! Get out!”

*  *  *

The next day Sierra sat in her master bathroom, mentally going over her talking points as her hair stylist and makeup artist fluttered around her. She would’ve loved a trip out to a salon or a spa to get ready for the gala, but with all the security precautions, it had just been easier to have them come to the house. She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror, her makeup almost done, her hair up in jumbo Velcro rollers. She wore a black satin robe and slippers, her gorgeous blush-pink gown of silk crepe and tulle hanging on the back of the door.

“Taylor, what time is it?” she called into her bedroom, looking up at the ceiling as the makeup artist lined her eyes.

“Almost six.” Taylor lounged on Sierra’s bed, flipping through a magazine. She’d come over earlier to help Sierra relax. They’d swum and eaten, and now Taylor was keeping her company as she got ready. “Hang on, your phone’s ringing.” Sierra heard her answer it, and then Taylor appeared in the bathroom, phone in hand. “It’s Rory.”

Sierra’s heart sank, because she knew exactly why he was calling. She tapped the screen to put the call on speaker and laid the phone in her lap. “Hey, Rory. You’re not going to make it, are you?” He’d texted her earlier saying that he’d gotten stuck on set and wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it.

“I’m so sorry, babe, but I have to bail. We’re still shooting.”

“It’s OK. It happens.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She tried very hard not to sound as if she was pouting.

“I really wanted to be there with you.”

“I know you did. It’s OK. I’ll manage on my own.”

“You’re gonna knock ’em dead. You’ve got this. OK?”

“Thanks, Rory. How’s the shoot going?” She chatted with him for a few more minutes as the hair stylist began taking out the Velcro rollers, leaving big, loose waves cascading down over her shoulders. She gave him a thumbs-up in the mirror.

Sometimes, in moments like this, she missed the fun, glamorous parts of Hollywood. Just a little. She still needed to make a decision about the audition, but she was leaning more toward doing it and seeing what came of it than not. Maybe she did miss acting a bit. It was never something she’d chosen for herself, as she’d started so young, but now that she was away from it, she found she sometimes missed having that creative outlet.

She hung up with Rory and passed her phone back to Taylor, who stood in the bathroom’s doorway, one shoulder propped against the doorjamb. “He’s not coming?”

“He’s stuck working. I’ll be flying solo tonight.”

Taylor paused, and Sierra could see the wheels turning. “Where’s Sean?”

Sierra’s heart did a little happy dance just at the mention of his name. “He had meetings and stuff all day, and he had something with another client tonight. He said he was going to try to get out of it, but he didn’t think it was likely.” They hadn’t had a chance to talk about the kiss and what it meant. How things had changed between them with that kiss. At least things had changed for her. But he’d come back late last night, and she’d already been in bed. They hadn’t found themselves alone at all this morning before he left, and he’d been gone all day.

“So he wasn’t planning on going to the gala with you?”

“No. Zack and Ian. He wanted to be there, but it didn’t work out. He was pissed about it.” She’d overheard him on the phone, arguing with his father about it. She couldn’t imagine how tough that had to be sometimes, having his dad as his boss. Especially given that Patrick had retired, and Sean was supposed to be in charge.

The hair stylist gave her hair a final spritz, and the makeup artist slicked on a coat of lip gloss before stepping back to admire her work.

“How come when I do the exact same stuff, I do
not
look like this?” Sierra smiled, checking herself out in the mirror, her hair falling in soft, loose waves around her face, her makeup flawlessly pretty. Polished and professional with a hint of sexy. The hairdresser and makeup artist started packing up their stuff, and Sierra stepped back into the bedroom, where Taylor helped her into the dress. The silk crepe bodice was delicately sequined and formfitting, with a slender cream-colored beaded silk belt separating it from the flowing tulle skirt.

She turned to check herself out in the mirror again, the skirt swirling around her ankles.

“Wow.” Sean’s voice came from the doorway, and she spun, her heart fluttering helplessly in her chest. He stood there in a white T-shirt and worn jeans, looking better than any man had the right to look. His eyes dipped up and down her body, a slow, appreciative smile curving his lips up.

“Thanks. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. I thought you had another job.”

“I did. I shuffled some stuff around, and I was going to see if Zack could trade off with me.”

“Or you could go as her date,” said Taylor matter-of-factly, as though it were the simplest, easiest thing in the world.

Sean raised one eyebrow. “Where’s Rory?”

“Working. He can’t come, so I’m minus one. It’s not a big deal. Besides,” Sierra said, giving Taylor her best “behave” glare over her shoulder, “it’s black tie, so unless you’ve got a tuxedo with you, I—”

“I do, actually. In my car. I just picked up my dry cleaning on my way over.”

“You have a tuxedo in your car.”

“Must be fate.” Taylor elbowed her.

“I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but if you—”

“Yes. I’m in.” He smiled, and when their eyes met, something passed between them, leaving Sierra feeling as though she were floating, just a little.

Sean left, and a knowing grin spread across Taylor’s face. “You’re welcome.”

Sierra pressed a hand to her cheek, trying to control the giddy grin pulling at her mouth. She checked her appearance one last time, slipped on her gold pumps, and gathered her essentials, dropping mints, lipstick, and her phone into her clutch.

Taylor scooted around Sierra’s bed and yanked open the nightstand drawer. She rummaged around, frowning.

“What are you looking for?”

“Condoms. You should put a couple in your bag.”

Sierra laughed as her stomach disappeared somewhere around her feet. “We’re going to a charity gala. It’s a public place. We’re not gonna need condoms.” While swimming this afternoon with Taylor, she’d told her about kissing Sean.

Taylor shot her a challenging look, one eyebrow arched, a mischievous smirk on her face. “Really? Huh. You must not see the way he looks at you if you think you won’t be needing any condoms tonight.”

“How does he look at me?”

Taylor leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. “He looks at you like he can’t wait to get inside you. Like he’s imagining all the different ways he’ll fuck you.” She pointed at the doorway where Sean had just stood. “
That
is a hungry man, and you’re his feast.”

Sierra’s brain disconnected from her tongue, and she pointed at the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed. Taylor opened the drawer and pulled out the box of Trojan Ultra Thins, dumping a couple into her hand. “I don’t know, Si, these are regular. Sean seems like he might be a Magnum kind of guy.”

Sierra laughed and snatched the foil packets from Taylor, dropping them into her clutch as heat flushed across her chest. Given what she’d felt last night, Taylor might be right. “You’re terrible.”

Taylor winked, and they made their way down the stairs just as Sean stepped into the entryway through the kitchen, wearing a tuxedo that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad chest and shoulders. He’d parted his hair on the side and styled it with a bit of gel, and he looked like a cross between James Bond and Superman.

She stared at him and melted. “Not bad for ten minutes,” she managed, her mouth dry.

“Do
everything
I would do,” Taylor whispered in her ear before turning to Sean. “Zack still coming with you guys?”

“No, he’s going to stay back and keep an eye on things here. Ian and I can handle the gala.”

“Perfect. Have fun, kids.” She waved over her shoulder as she disappeared into the house, probably seeking Zack out. Sierra was tempted to call out, “Don’t have sex in my house,” but decided that might embarrass them too much.

Sierra wasn’t exactly in a position to judge, in any case.

The limo was already waiting outside, and Ian led the way, Sean offering her his arm as he escorted her down the driveway. He dipped his head. “You look incredible.” His low voice rumbled over her skin, and she shivered.

She curled her fingers into his arm. “So do you.” She wanted to say more, but they’d reached the limo, and the tiny, elusive moment of privacy was over as Ian hopped into the back with them. She struggled to keep her hands folded in her lap, but she couldn’t give anything away in front of Ian.

“Don’t be nervous.” Sean laid a hand on her knee and sent her one of those lopsided smiles. “You’re gonna do great.”

She sent him a grateful smile in return, amazed at how a simple touch and two short sentences could make her feel so much better. “There are going to be so many influential people there. Politicians, journalists, people from other health-related organizations…it’s a little intimidating. I just…” She trailed off and tried not to roll her eyes at herself. “I want them to take me seriously.”

“They will. You’re smart, dedicated, and you care about helping Choices. Just relax, and that’ll all come through.”

“If you embarrass yourself, I can create a distraction,” said Ian, winking and easing a bit more of her tension. “Knock over a tray of drinks, step on some lady’s dress, whatever.”

She laughed, relaxing back into the seat. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but I appreciate the offer.”

The twilit streets of Los Angeles slid by outside the window, the tall palms almost black against the lavender sky as the limo navigated its way downtown. The bright lights of the towering hotels and office buildings fought against the softer dusk, rising up into the falling darkness. As they crawled toward the Ritz-Carlton, the three of them slipped into easy conversation, Sean telling Ian about his meetings, Sierra asking them if they had any funny client stories they could share—with names changed to protect the innocent, of course.