Rock the Bodyguard (3 page)

An hour later, the suite was
filling up with people, music was pounding and Raoul was coaching her through
one of their newer routines. Cash was aware of Miles' presence in the room,
which was strange because she was used to being surrounded by people and ignoring
them all when she was trying to concentrate. Most of the entourage faded to a
blur with the music, but for one tall, strong form standing far across the
suite.

“Girl, you need to pay attention,
that's the third time you've missed that switch,” Raoul said, snapping his
fingers in her face.

Cash tried again and again, but
when she flubbed the step for the fifth time, Raoul had clearly had enough. He
minced out of the studio and made his way over to Miles, who seemed surprised
to see him coming. Cash followed out of a sense of curiosity and to help Raoul
if he got himself into trouble. She soon wished she hadn't.

“Excuse me, Mr. Security Man? Mm
hmm, yes, you honey,” Raoul drawled as Miles looked at him with clear surprise.
“I'm going to need you to step outside, or into another room or anywhere you
won't be such a powerful distraction to miss thing here.”

Miles looked at Cash and Cash could
have happily disappeared through the floor. “I'm sorry?”

“Can you do your security thing
somewhere else? Anywhere not in her sight line, she can't keep her eyes off
you, honey,” Raoul trilled.

Cash's face burned with
embarrassment. She didn't know where to look. Miles cleared his throat. “I'll
be nearby if you need me.”

“Thank you, darling,” Raoul
trilled, waving fingers in the air as Miles departed. “Well he's a gentleman,
isn't he?”

“I'm going to kill you,” Cash
muttered.

“If you don't get this routine
right, you sure will,” Raoul agreed, clutching a palm to his chest. “Imma die
of a broken heart if you don't get this. Now let's do it already.”

*
* * * *

Miles wasn't quite sure how to take
what was happening in front of his face. Cash Raine was adorable. Overworked,
but still adorable - and she obviously had a crush on him. Miles wasn't one of
those clueless men who didn't know when a woman liked him, he knew damned well
what it meant when a lady couldn't keep her eyes off him and went out of her
way to get his attention.

He retired to the lounge and
kitchen area of the suite, rationalizing it away, telling himself that it was
just a silly puppy love crush, it didn't mean anything. She was young and he
was in a position of protection and authority. It was only natural for her to
have some feelings toward him.

The other part of his mind, the
devilish part that he hid away under a formal demeanor, stiff posture and
proper speech, told him that she wasn't that young and she certainly knew how
to move like the grown woman she undoubtedly was. He groaned inwardly,
remembering how she'd looked dancing that morning. When she thought nobody was
looking she was even better than she had been in front of an audience. Her
moves had been less blatantly sexual than the ones she'd performed on stage,
but somehow they'd also been more alluring. The girl could dance; there wasn't
a part of her body that wasn't imbued with grace. On top of that, she was all
charm, even when she was tired and upset.

“Get a grip, Rock,” he told
himself. It was up to him to keep things professional. It would be all too easy
to take advantage of the way she was responding to him, to turn her crush into
something more intimate. But that would make him as despicable as that
overweight drug pusher who had been sniffing around the previous evening. He
didn't know how Cash had maintained her innocence in this environment, but he
certainly wasn't going to be the one to take it.

Miles was glad to be distracted by
Kevin's arrival. Kevin came sauntering in, wearing a linen shirt, presumably
designer jeans judging by the fashionable creases and tears in them, and his
five o'clock shadow was even more pronounced than ever. It was hard to believe
Kevin had ever been in the military.

“You're still here,” Kevin observed
astutely. “Does that mean you'll take the job?”

“We'll have to discuss a few things
first,” Miles said.

“Sure,” Kevin nodded. “How did your
night go?” He gave Miles a conspiratorial look. “Those concerts are godawful,
aren't they?”

“The concert was loud,” Miles
agreed. “Cash is... interesting.”

“Oh yeah,” Kevin grinned. “She's
got the interest of half the men in the country.”

“I didn't mean that,” Miles
frowned. “I meant...”

“Don't tell me she's being a little
diva,” Kevin interrupted. “She's usually pretty relaxed, but she has her
moments.”

“Not quite.” Miles tried to put his
finger on it. “She's a good girl desperately trying to look like a bad girl.
Have you heard the ridiculous songs she sings?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said, sitting back on
the couch, letting his legs splay as he relaxed. “A lot of hot young performers
end up in the trap Cash is in. They're just famous enough to be a product, but
they don't have quite enough traction, backing or faith to do what they really
want to do. She's a talented kid – but right now she's riding on the strength
of her ass. For all intents and purposes, the studio owns her. So she sings
whatever they tell her to sing and she dances how they tell her to dance.”

“Like a puppet,” Miles said, unable
to keep the disapproval out of his voice.

“Like a very rich and famous
puppet,” Kevin amended.

Miles' concern was growing by the
moment. “She needs someone to look after her. Where are her parents in all
this?”

Kevin glanced around to make sure
nobody was listening before answering Miles quietly. “Her parents have five
other kids and live in Minnesota. They take the checks she sends and encourage
her to earn more. She's nineteen years old and working her little butt off to
support a family.”

“So that's why she works all hours,
doesn't sleep and puts up with those ridiculous lyrics.”

“I'm sure she likes the fame and
the money too,” Kevin winked, “but she's definitely a sweet kid.”

“A sweet kid surrounded by
leeches,” Miles added.

“Beautiful women will have their
admirers,” Kevin shrugged. “Cash has a good head on her shoulders.”

“She must do,” Miles agreed, just
as Cash and Raoul sauntered into the kitchen. They had obviously been working
hard; they were both pink and sweaty, although Cash wore it better in Miles'
opinion. With natural color on her cheeks and little to no make up, she really
was quite beautiful. He tried not to stare as she reached into the
refrigerator, bending at the waist and making her dance pants pull tight over
the pert curves of her bottom. She was on the smaller side, but her shape was
heavenly. For a few delicious moments, he couldn't help but let his imagination
run riot as the thin material shifted over her bottom, almost as if she was
presenting herself to him. His palm tingled as he thought back to their
conversation that morning, how she'd teased him about being able to keep up. Oh
what he would have given to show her exactly how he could keep up with her -
his palm slapping those cute, deserving cheeks until she squealed and admitted
that maybe she didn't know absolutely everything.

“... so what do you say?”

Miles became aware of the fact that
Kevin was talking again. “Hmmm? Sorry?”

Kevin repeated himself “The tour
leaves for London next week. I know it's short notice...”

“I'll do it,” Miles said.

“Cash!” Kevin raised his voice to
get her attention, then gave her the thumbs up.

In the next instant Cash had
forgotten all about lunch and flown across the room to hug Miles. Her slim arms
wrapped around his torso with indiscriminate glee. “You said yes!”

“I did,” he said, trying not to
look quite as pleased as she did.

She pulled away, still smiling.
“Did you know he sent me to bed last night?” She nudged Miles in the gut whilst
giving Kevin a wide-eyed look.

Kevin chuckled. “I'm not surprised,
I'm more surprised he didn't have you up at the crack of dawn this morning.”

“Oh I was up long before him,” Cash
said smugly. “I woke him up.”

“Dancing,” Miles said. “You never
stop dancing.”

Cash stood and performed a little
tap two-step as if on cue. “Well would you look at that, I really can't stop.”

“Girl, you are embarrassing
yourself,” Raoul came by, rolling his eyes as he placed an arm around Cash's
shoulders and drew her away. “That's some Shirley Temple shit right there.”

Miles couldn't help but smile to
himself as Raoul took Cash away. Her little quirks only added to her appeal in
his eyes. There weren't many women as gorgeous, talented, passionate and
occasionally completely awkward as Cash. He was going to have to be very
careful where Miss Raine was concerned. It would be easy to become distracted,
and distractions were dangerous, which was why a professional relationship and
professional distance had to be maintained at all times. He cleared his throat,
did his best to squash down feelings of tenderness, and turned his attention
back to the work at hand.

“Tell me more about him,” Miles
said, nodding in Raoul's direction.

“Raoul? He's gay.”

“I wasn't asking about his
sexuality,” Miles scowled.

“Are you sure?” Kevin smiled a
teasing smile. “Seriously, no need to worry about him. He's a vegan who thinks
his body is a temple, he won't slip Cash anything or get her into trouble.”

Miles nodded. “Good, so far he
seems to be the closest thing to a friend. There must be other people she
socializes with?”

Kevin shrugged. “I've been managing
Cash for months. Most of these young stars bring a bunch of friends with them
as part of their entourage. It's usually a hell of a mess to keep track of and
clean up after, but she's... well she's plain quiet. That's why half this suite
is empty.”

“What about parties?”

“She attends promotional events now
and then, sometimes it even looks like she's having a good time, but she's not
a huge partier either.” Kevin smiled. “You're getting an easy gig with a
unicorn – a quiet pop star.”

Miles was not as pleased as Kevin
seemed to think he would be, mostly because Kevin wasn't really telling him
anything. So she didn't have a lot of friends and she didn't go to a lot of
parties. That told him nothing about the things she did do. “What are Miss
Raine's recreational activities?”

Kevin looked into the middle
distance thoughtfully. “You know, I don't really know. You'll have to ask her.
Cash!” He called out across the room. She came obedient as a puppy and smiled
at them both, cocking her head to the side in a questioning manner. “Miles has
a few questions for you, Cash,” Kevin explained. “Now that he's agreed to take
the job, he needs to get to know you better.”

“Oh, okay.” Her eyes sparkled. “You
can ask me anything you like.”

Miles was starting to think that
the bright blue of her eyes might actually be natural. Her gaze was quite
breathtaking. For a moment, he forgot all about the questions he wanted to ask,
and just stared. Fortunately, Cash took the initiative.

“I know,” she said, clapping her
hands together. “You can ask me questions over lunch!”

*
* * * *

Sitting on the balcony with Miles, Cash
was quite pleased with herself. Raoul had done her the favor of going out for
lunch, giving them some time almost alone. Kevin was still floating about
somewhere, organizing details for the tour, but other than that, the suite was
empty.

Room service had put on a lovely
spread, but she wasn't much interested in the food. She was far more interested
in the man sitting opposite her, the man who seemed to have so much hidden
behind his eyes. There was a deep worldliness to Miles, she couldn't begin to imagine
what he must have done in his life to have cultivated such a personality. She'd
already forgiven his earlier arrogance, it paled in comparison to other men
she'd met in Hollywood and at least Miles tried to be nice about it.

“So what did you need to know?” she
asked, trying not to look too eager.

Miles nodded toward her plate. “You
can eat your lunch first, Miss Raine,” he said. “You've barely eaten anything
today.”

Unlike the food in front of her,
his comment piqued her interest. “How would you know?”

“I pay attention, it's my job to,”
he said with a little wink that made her tingle. He really was paying
attention, and not just to her feminine assets, but to her as a person. That
was a neat change. Cash was starting to get used to the attention from fans,
but it was still a strange kind of attention, closer to adulation, which she'd
never been comfortable with. Even worse were the journalists. When talking to
reporters, Cash felt like a woolen sweater just waiting to be picked apart. No
matter how much they smiled and flattered her, she knew she was one loose
thread away from being unraveled for all the world to see. But Miles didn't
make her feel that way. He made her feel safe and normal. He hadn't treated her
like a celebrity when she was upset; he'd treated her like a person. And that
had made all the difference.

“Well you're not here to watch me
eat, you're here to ask me some questions, right?” She pressed him further.

He raised a brow. “You're not one
of those women who doesn't eat around men, are you?”

His question offended her
momentarily. She dealt with it by lifting up the baked potato that had been
nestling in a pile of lettuce atop her plate and stuffing it into her mouth.
She tried to say 'continue', but it came out more like 'compfliblule'.

Miles gave her a dour look as she
tried to consume the mass of potato, bacon, sour cream and cheese occupying her
orifice. “Point made, Miss Raine. Now stop that before you choke yourself.”

With a significant effort, Cash
managed to clear her mouth. “So if you're satisfied with my calorie intake,
maybe I can satisfy your curiosity? Or are you planning on watching to make
sure I eat all my lunch before I have any dessert?”

Miles didn't respond verbally, but
he did pull a notebook and pencil out of his jacket pocket.

Cash guffawed. “Pencil and paper?
Just how old are you, Mr. Mild Mannered Reporter?”

“I'm near enough thirty, Miss
Raine,” he replied, sounding far older than that. “And I use a pencil and paper
because it's more secure and private than a phone or a laptop. It's pretty hard
to hack a pencil.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she
said, picking at bits of crispy bacon. “So what did you want to know?”

“I need to get a sense of the sort
of activities you like to undertake, the people I can expect to be around, that
sort of thing,” he explained. “I have to know what is normal, so I'll know if
anything is out of the ordinary.”

“Oh,” she nodded, “okay.”

“I asked Kevin a little bit about
you,” Miles continued, glancing down at his notebook. “He says you don't have
any leisure activities?”

“Hm, well, I guess that's sort of
true,” she admitted. “I like to write music and I like to sing and dance, but
they're all work related. I suppose my work is sort of my life.”

Miles looked up from the notebook.
“So you don't do anything to relax. What about friends, who should I expect to
see around the place?”

“Well,” Cash said, squirming a
little in her seat. “Most of the people who come around you've already met.
There's Raoul, and Kevin and of course there's Mandy and Candy and Brandy –
they do my hair and make up – oh and Sandy, the stylist.”

“Mandy, Candy, Brandy and Sandy,”
he repeated incredulously. “You wouldn't be making those names up, would you?”

“If I was going to make up names,
they'd be better than that,” Cash said. “I think Mandy, Candy and Brandy chose
those names to sound cute together – Sandy was just collateral damage.”

Miles smirked as he made a note.
God he had a sexy smile. Cash could have written an entire song about the way
the muscles in his cheek moved.

“So aside from those six, are there
any others?”

“There's others who come and go,
people in the business, Kevin knows all of them.”

“Any personal friends?”

Cash shrugged. “Not really.”

“So you don't have any leisure
activities, and you don't socialize with anyone,” Miles repeated.

“Yeah, I guess.” Cash braced
herself for a judgmental lecture, but there was none forthcoming. Miles simply
nodded and moved along.

“Is there anything else you think I
should know about?”

She played with the straw in her
diet coke and gave him what she hoped was a coy look. “You're not going to tell
me I need to get out more?”

“It's hardly my place, Miss Raine,”
Miles said briefly.

It was a simple comment, delivered
without emotion, but it hit Cash like a cold slap. Not his place? For the
umpteenth time that day, she recalled their conversation after the concert. She
remembered how he'd looked at her with sympathy and care, the way he'd called
her 'sweetheart'. All day she'd been thinking about it, feeling warm and safe
every time she remembered it. Now she wondered if it had ever happened at all.

“Well,” she said, pushing her plate
away. “I guess that's all I can say. I'm boring.”

“Then it is my turn,” Miles said,
ignoring her self depreciation, “to let you know what my expectations are.”

Cash felt a familiar tingle coming
back as he closed the notebook and gave her his full attention, his dark eyes
settling on her with an intensity that seemed to come naturally to him. “If I'm
to provide security for you, you'll need to keep me informed of your plans. If
you're going out, just let me know. I'll make sure to be there, or to ensure
that somebody equally qualified is in place. If you require privacy, that can
also be arranged.”

“Privacy?”

He gave her a ghost of a smile.
“It's my way of telling you I won't be lurking in the closet if you have a
date.”

“Oh, that's good I suppose,” she
said, sitting back and feeling rather flat. Miles was being very professional,
which was probably a good thing, but she couldn't help but wish he would be...
friendlier. “Are we done?”

“I don't have any more questions
for the moment,” he said. “Do you?”

She chewed at her inner lip and
shook her head. “Guess not.”

“Good, then it's all settled.” He
stood up. “I'll leave you to your lunch.”

Cash scowled to herself as Miles
walked away. She felt foolish. Obviously he had been nothing but professional
when he'd ushered her home to bed, and obviously the term of endearment meant
nothing. A rush of hot shame slid over her, god, she really had been an idiot
to think that he might actually like her – and even more of an idiot to get so
attached in such a short period of time. As her embarrassment and
disappointment grew she compensated by telling herself that there were
attractive men all over the place, she didn't need to be moping over a hopped
up rent-a-cop.

Caught with a sudden impulse to
assert herself as an independent woman, Cash tossed down her napkin and made
her way over to the wet bar. She was not in the habit of drinking, but she was
fairly certain that the sting of rejection would be a lot less intense with a
glass or two inside her. She yanked out the first bottle of wine that came to
hand and set it on the wet bar.

“Cash, what are you doing?” Kevin
was the first to inquire. “You have an interview in a couple of hours.”

“So?” She twisted the screw cap
open and hunted for a glass. “What does that matter?” She found a red wine
glass and filled it to the brim, sloshing some wine on the counter as she did.
Whilst Kevin looked on with impotent horror, she took a big long drink. It
tasted much like she thought battery acid probably would, but that didn't stop
her from topping up the glass and holding her breath as she gave it another go.

The second slurp did not please her
any more than the first had done, but there was a fairly pleasant warmth as it
slid down her throat and settled in her belly. By that stage, Miles had noticed
that all was not well in the suite. He turned to look at her and she locked
eyes with him as she downed the third dose.

“Cash, quit it!” Kevin's voice had
developed more bass, but not nearly enough. Cash filled the glass a third time,
though by that stage she was starting to feel a little queasy. Between the
sloshing and the slurping she'd only consumed about half a glass, but it was
enough to make her stomach start to turn.

Miles approached and she turned her
back on him. “Miss Raine,” he said mildly, somewhere behind her. “I think you
should refrain.”

“It's hardly your place to say, is
it?” She snapped the question as she slammed the glass down without drinking
any more. The moment the glass hit the counter top, another loud sound filled
the air. Cash grasped at her backside and whirled around, her mouth open in an
'o' of surprise as she looked at Miles in shock.

“Enough,” Miles said, the word
falling stony and hard from his lips.

“You hit me!” Cash didn't have to
feign outrage, she was outraged. He might have made some earlier reference to
spanking, but damn, it hurt. It really hurt!

“I swatted you, Miss Raine,” he
said, completely unapologetic.

Looking from Miles to Kevin, who
was staring at the both of them with a sort of stunned approval, Cash felt her
eyes fill with completely unbidden tears. Mortified, she turned and ran,
escaping into the bedroom that wasn't really her bedroom, just another the
hotel suite she was trying to pretend was home. She dived onto the bed, crawled
under the covers and hid, her bottom stinging as she burst into tears.

“Cash?” Miles' voice cut through
the sounds of her misery, deep and soothing, and concerned “Cash, honey, are
you alright?” He'd followed her. She was glad, but it didn't take away any of
the shock or embarrassment at having been smacked.

“Stop it,” she sniffed in her
quilted den.

“Stop what?”

“Stop being nice to me when I'm
upset and then acting like I'm nothing the rest of the time.”