In Bed with the Bodyguard Read Online Free Page B

nearly a whole bottle of red herself?
    She could tell Val was not going to let this drop until everything was the way she wanted. She could capitulate now, then renege once Val and Jason left in their separate cars, sending Lance home in a taxi, even if it took hours to get one to her door. Georgetown on a Saturday night was not known for taxi availability.
    “Ari, please do this as a favor to me,” Valerie said. “I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I’m worrying about you alone here with a crazy person out to get you.” She stepped closer to her husband, who wrapped her in his arms.
    Ari tried to ignore the twinge in her chest at the sight of Jason nuzzling Val’s hair. And she definitely ignored his whisper about how they’d stay occupied if Val couldn’t sleep. If Lance stayed here, she certainly wouldn’t get any sleeping done, and thoughts of how they could keep busy flashed hot, disturbing images into her mind, such as Lance pulling off his shirt and hammering up more of her paintings. She paused at the image of sitting in his lap and feeling his lips on her scalp.
    She gave a shake. What was happening to her? She was happy as Sadie, Sadie single lady, and didn’t want what Val and Jason shared. Why the sudden craving for comfort and the presence of a permanent man in her life? It must be her vandalized art gallery or the wine. Definitely the wine.
    She glanced over at the ruined painting. Maybe it wouldn’t be terrible if Lance spent the night. He was a professional, after all. He was probably used to guarding women in their bedrooms. All recent presidents and most politicians were married, according to her recollection.
    “Fine,” she said. “You can stay.”
    “Thank you,” Lance said rather snarkily, and pushed off the floor to a standing position. He winced as though his leg pained him. She wondered how he’d injured it.
    “Excellent.” Valerie clapped her hands once as if everything were settled, and also prepared to leave. “I’ll call tomorrow on my way to work.” She gave a final cheek kiss, and gathered up the trash and her husband. Then they abandoned Ari.

Chapter Three
    H ow the hell had this happened? Stuck in the modern-day Marie Antoinette’s art gallery. Lance was pissed at Jason for getting him into this situation, even if Arianna was even sexier in person than on TV. Man, when she’d been lying on the floor, her skirt had ridden up, giving teasing glimpses of her upper thighs. He also knew he wasn’t being fair. No one had asked him to stay here. He’d been the dummy who’d volunteered.
    “Well? Are you coming?” Arianna stood on the bottom step ready to turn the lights out to the gallery. She didn’t even pretend to be grateful that he was staying here to protect her.
    “Fine, but can we get some things out of the way first?”
    “Fine. What?” She stood like a ballerina and suddenly lifted one leg, balancing the flat of her foot against her opposite calf, and held her stilettos in one hand by the pointy heels.
    Yoga? Was she doing yoga while talking to him? All sorts of dirty images of an extremely flexible Arianna flashed through his mind. She’d flirted with him, but he needed to remember that for a girl like her, flirting was like breathing. She didn’t mean anything by it, and he had to remember to stop flirting back.
    “Do you know where your father is?” he asked in a rush.
    Her foot came down with a bang. “You can leave now.” Her wide eyes narrowed and her posture looked as if she’d taken a sucker punch.
    He took a step after her on the stairs. “I have to ask, you know. Please understand my position. I’m a goddamn Secret Service agent. It’s my job to ask. Imagine if it got out that I was protecting the daughter of a fugitive who knew where said fugitive was.”
    “Imagine it,” she said in a monotone.
    “So you don’t know?”
    “No, I don’t have a clue. Valerie broke the news to me that my dad skipped town. I have not spoken to him