Wild About The Bodyguard (5 page)

Her brows
knitted. “Why?”

“
Because I
have a full-time job at the club and—”

“
I mean why’d
you give away the P.I. bodyguard gig?”

That took him
aback. He narrowed his eyes at her. “I ask the questions,
remember?”

“
Sorry.
Except…I’m curious. I’ve known you five minutes, but it blazes out
like a neon sign. You are so suited to this Sam Spade
stuff.”

“
Why don’t
you leave the assumptions to me,” he said.

But he wasn’t
upset. Samantha wasn’t rude so much as sharp. He understood the
urge to enquire, dig deeper. He’d known that same curiosity all his
life.

“
I have a pot
on,” she said, heading off. “Can I tempt you?”

Focusing on
the legs streaming beneath that flouncy, bouncy skirt, he followed.
“Always.”

In the
kitchen, he accepted a full cup and wandered over to straighten a
listing timber photo frame hung on the wall. Decked out in some
kind of costume, the girl in the picture was accepting a bunch of
flowers on stage. Brown hair cascaded around slender shoulders all
the way past her waist. She was at least a head shorter than the
rest of the kids. The smile was bright and just as infectious as it
was today.

Lifting his
cup, he took a sip. And another.
Whoa
. This coffee was
good.

“
End of year
drama performance,” she explained, pouring herself a cup. “Heard of
Shakespeare?”

He set a palm
on his chest.
“To be or not to
be.”

She grinned.
“Needs work.” After splashing cream into her cup, she joined him.
“We performed
Twelfth Night.
I played a female who dresses up as a
male.”

“
So, the
fetish goes back a ways.”

When she
didn’t answer, he glanced across—and looked harder. He must be
seeing things. Was that remorse glistening in her eyes?

“
Last week,”
she began, “guess I lost my head a little. I didn’t know what to do
next. I’m sorry I broke into your club.”

He grinned.
“You’re sorry you got caught.”

“
Are you
sorry you caught me?”

No. Or, not
yet.

Still the
answer stuck in his throat because suddenly she was standing too
close. A few inches more and her chest would be brushing his shirt.
Her floral scent was playing tricks with his oxygen levels, too.
And her lips looked almost too plump, in a completely natural,
annoyingly kissable way.

He wasn’t here
to get into her pants. Still, he was attracted to this woman, and
maybe more than he’d first thought, which was saying
something.

Dragging
himself back, Chase moved to stand over by the counter. They needed
to talk about the case.

“
Ten years
ago, before or after the break-in,” he said, “do you remember
anyone asking questions, hanging around, acting in a suspicious
manner?”

“
That
dialogue is so
authentic
,” she murmured like she
was filing it away for future reference. She followed him across.
“I remember the police asked us that same question. There wasn’t
anything.”

“
Even
something small that, looking back, didn’t fit quite
right.”

“
I wasn’t
functioning too well at the time. It hadn’t been long
since…”

Her gaze
drifted to the end of the counter and another photo, a family shot
this time—a woman and two teenage girls. He remembered: Samantha’s
mom had passed away not long before that theft
.

He softened
his tone. “Have you spoken to your sister about seeing that ring on
the net?”

Sammy nodded.
“Being the oldest, Ann felt responsible back then. But she’s
married now. Has a great life. She doesn’t want to dwell on the
past. You know, drag up painful memories.”

“
You two have
a good relationship?”

“
Sure. But
we’re different. She likes jazz and Tolstoy. I’m into rap and
vampires.
True
not
Diaries
. When I was a kid, she seemed to have all the right answers
to all the hard questions.” Sammy raised her coffee, sipped and
then asked, “Do you have sisters? Brothers?”

Looking around
the room, he replied automatically. “Not brothers, exactly.
Cousins. Taylor and Leo.”

“
Do you know
a light came to your eyes when you said their names?”

He studied her
grin. Was she serious?

She went on.
“I pictured you looking back and smiling at all the stuff you’d
done together.”

“
I guess
actresses have vivid imaginations.”

“
It’s
just...I feel like that sometimes when I look back. And I bet
you’re the oldest, too.” Her eyes laughed. “The bossy
one.”

“
I’m not so
bossy.” More...instructional.

“
Do you still
see each other?”

“
We hang out
when we can.”

“
For a beer,”
she surmised. “At the baseball?”

Running a
hand through his hair, Chase coughed out a laugh. “Did you pay
someone to sneak a look at my file?” That was
his
deal.

“
Show me a
guy who doesn’t drink beer. And, seriously, who’s not a Giants
fan?”

“
You like
baseball?”

“
Sure. Can’t
remember the last game I went to though.”

He could
imagine her enjoying a hot dog while rooting for Buster to slam a
home run. Taylor and Leo would like her, too. She had a natural
spark, a definite zing that made a guy want to gravitate and get
involved—to a point where Chase felt the words sitting right there
on the tip of his tongue.

Wanna go catch
a game with me sometime?

Which wasn’t
what this meeting was about. They were meant to be digging deeper,
trying to discover what and who was behind that theft a decade
ago.

He set his cup
down on the counter.

“
You weren’t
seeing anyone at the time?” he asked.

“
I was seeing
a boy. Nothing serious.”

“
How serious
can you get at fifteen?”

“
Ever heard
of Romeo and Juliet?”

He
grinned.
Smartass
. “I’m familiar with it, yes.”

“
Juliet was
just shy of her fourteenth birthday. Teenage love can be as strong
as any.” She nudged her chin at him. “You must have had a girl
hanging off your every word in high school. Kicking her heels and
punching her pom-poms every time you scored a
touchdown.”

“
Taylor was
the football jock. I was into—” Pulling himself up, Chase thrust
back his shoulders. “We need to focus, Samantha.”

“
Sammy,” she
said. “Friends call me Sammy.”

He got back
on track—
again
.
“So, you were seeing a boy.”

“
Actually, a
couple of boys.”

Two?
“
Only
two?”

She
nodded.

“
Did they
ever come over to your apartment?” he asked.

“
Once or
twice.”

“
Did either
of them know about the ring?”

“
None of my
friends knew.” She hesitated. “Except Fay.”

His antennae
quivered. “Did you show Fay the ring? Was she ever in any kind of
trouble at home? With the police?”

“
I mentioned
the ring to her once. I explained its history, how it had been
handed down from a French court. I don’t think she believed me. And
no. Fay was a good girl, like me.”

A good girl
with two boyfriends? “Guess it depends on your idea of good.
Everyone took at least one trip to the principal’s
office.”

“
Not me.”
When his mouth swung to one side, she leaned back more against the
counter and arched a brow. “Well, it’s true.”

While her gaze
challenged his, he couldn’t ignore the draw of her body, the way
her hips tilted and chest popped…

Chase crossed
his arms to contain some of the energy. How long
had
it been since he’d
last been laid?

He cleared his
throat. “Focus, remember?”

“
I’m not the
one getting all fidgety.”

He’d be
honest. “It might help if you didn’t go draping yourself all over
the place.”

“
Is that what
I’m doing?” She looked amused. Irresistible. “I’m
draping
myself?”

He ran a palm
around his steaming neck. “Your friend—Fay. Did the police question
her?”

“
Maybe. I’m
not sure.”

“
Does she
still live around these parts?”

“
We bump into
each other every now and then.”

“
And the boys
you were seeing?”

“
I think one
joined the army. The other—I have no idea.”

“
There was a
building super.”

“
Yeah. He was
a bit weird. Very quiet. Lived on the lower floor with his family.
Shouldn’t you be writing this all down?”

He ignored the
advice. “I’ll need Fay’s full name.”

She found a
yearbook in a bottom drawer, pointed out some names and headshots,
and then eyed his empty cup. “Want a refill?”

He didn’t need
the stimulant. In fact, he should probably get out of here before
those personal urges grew into something more. But when she reached
for his cup, he found he was already offering it over. Her fingers
wrapped around and covered his. Skin seemed to fuse before a stream
of heat funnelled up his arm. As his gaze caught hers, that energy
coiled around his chest, constricted and then dropped lower. The
erection that had been waiting, biding its time, suddenly swelled
enough to make him groan.

Whenever he
needed to exert pent-up energy, he sawed into some timber, popped
off a few rounds. Of course, masturbation had its place. But
nothing fed the beast like the intimate company of a woman who
ignited the senses. And, like it or not—good move or bad—that’s
precisely what Sammy Mayne did for him.

Dropping her
gaze, she crossed over to the pot. He followed. While she poured,
he stood behind her, close enough to absorb the warmth radiating
from her body, which sparked a few thousand more pheromones. As she
pulled the bowl over and heaped in sugar, a primordial tug in his
gut grew stronger. By the time she was stirring, his lips were
hovering near the shell of her ear. When he let his eyes drift shut
and inhaled her floral scent, his erection jumped and warned him to
quit fucking around.

Definitely
time to go.

He stepped
back, got it together. “Actually, I’ll take a rain-check on the
second cup.”

She spun
around. “We’ve only just got started.”

Believe me, “I
have enough for now.”

She smiled
that awesome smile. “You could stay for lunch if you’re
hungry.”

Oh, yeah. He
was hungry, all right. Hungrier than he’d been in a
while.

He headed out.
“I’d better get going.”

At the door,
she said, “I appreciate what you’re doing. You’ll never know how
much. But I can’t pay you. Or at least not much.”

“
I don’t want
your money.”

She smirked.
“You’re doing this for the love of it, right?”

For
love?
He stopped himself from leaning in
and tasting those lips. “Guess you could say that.”

When Sammy
asked if he was doing this for love, Chase had played it
down.

Truth was…he
was enjoying this exercise more than he’d even imagined. He
couldn’t lie to himself. Not anymore. He liked the idea of being on
a case. He liked the idea of working with Samantha.

Sammy.

No getting
around it. He wanted to know her in a biblical sense. He didn’t
think she had any idea how attractive she was—at least to him. The
combination of amazing hair, sumptuous curves and mischievous,
inquisitive ways set his blood alight. But he was getting ahead of
himself.

Seemed he had
a case to solve.

He’d gone
through the yearbook. Jacob McPherson, boyfriend number one, liked
athletics and was a star member of the debating team. Big easy
smile, a clear gaze fixed on the future, McPherson was a politician
in the making.

As Chase
tracked down personal information, he wondered how far young
McPherson and Sammy’s relationship had gone in the old days. Dates
to the movies with, perhaps, some necking? She’d admitted to having
two guys on the go. Chase could imagine the hopefuls lined up for a
spot—past and present.

Was she seeing
anyone at the moment, even casually?