His Bodyguard Read Online Free

suite, knowing he’d slept in the next room, added a risqué factor to the meeting that bumped up her heart rate another notch.
    “Mr. Fox,” she said and took his hand, remembering to shake it hard enough to convey confidence, but not so hard as to seem defensive.
    The most difficult part was over, she assured herself; she’d already met with Sarge. He hadn’t looked happy about the prospect Instead, he’d maintained a sort of smug satisfaction as he’d signed the contract stating that she was in the employ of Fox Inc. and that the company would pay her directly.
    So far her silk jacket, chosen after only two hours of silent debate, remained sweat free.
    “It’s good to see you again.” Fox’s voice was as melodious as she remembered. A journalist in Vermont had said his eyes were the color of maple syrup. But that was just sappy drivel, because they were a full shade darker than that, closer to the color of fresh-ground coffee beans, and they crinkled charmingly at the corners when he smiled, mesmerizing her with their warm allure.
    “Would you like some breakfast?”
    “Oh.” She drew her hand self-consciously from his embrace, realizing she’d been staring. If she screwed up this opportunity she could just nail her butt to an office chair, because she wouldn’t be leaving it anytime soon. “No, thank you. I’d best get straight to business.”
    “Right now? It’s only…” He glanced at his watch. His wrist was broad and corded, sprinkled with dark hair. “Eight o’clock. On the dot.” He winced. “You’re not always this prompt, are you?”
    “I try to be.”
    “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, then turned and motioned her to go with him. “Me too,” he said, and pulled the dooropen to usher her through. “I’m supposed to go running at eight o’clock.”
    “I read you’re a runner.”
    “You read about me?” He sounded flattered. Odd, she thought. He was, after all, adored by millions. Surely he wasn’t surprised that she, too, knew something about him.
    She made the mistake of glancing up at him to see if he looked sincere. The brilliance of his smile momentarily numbed her brain; but she bludgeoned it back into working order. “Yes. I thought it wise to read a couple of articles.” A couple hundred. After all, walking into that interview cold and landing the job was just about as likely as a snowstorm in Georgia. “I always try to learn as much as possible about my, uh, clients before I begin working for them.”
    “You didn’t read that I’m an immature prankster, did you? ‘Cause it’s definitely not true. I would never send a critic chocolate-covered laxatives.”
    “You did that?”
    “Uh…no,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
    She laughed. Despite his drop-dead good looks, he had a down-home way about him that couldn’t help but put her at ease. “I’m afraid I didn’t read anything negative. All the interviewers were women.”
    He chuckled and ushered her through the next door as she silently berated herself. She hadn’t meant to say that. It implied, of course, that no female could possibly find fault with him. Although she suspected that might well be true, she certainly had no reason to give him the impression that she was amongst the infatuated group.
    “Are you blushing, Miss O’Shay?” he asked.
    She kept her face turned resolutely forward. There were a good number of things she appreciated about her heritage. Her complexion was not amongst them. “It’s rather warm in here.”
    He laughed again. “Looks like I was entirely wrong about this bodyguard business. I like having you around already.” He turned away, saying, “Table for two.”
    Brenna realized suddenly that they were in the hotel’s restaurant.The hostess, a young brunette with big eyes and a ponytail, dimpled at him and turned away with obvious effort.
    He ushered Brenna along with a hand on her back.
    “I thought you were going to go running,” she said.
    “I said I’m supposed