Guarding His Body. A.C. Arthur
Walt had picked that moment to return. If not, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do to Sabrina next. She was an enigma. An ex-marine turned bodyguard. A wisp of a woman with the allure of a porn star. An ordinary female with more beauty than a supermodel. What had his brother gotten him into?
“The pieces are wonderful,” she said in a slow measured tone. “I would venture to say that very creative hands brought them to life. The public is going to love them.” She was looking at Walt as she spoke, but her words were meant for Renny. She’d sensed his insecurity about his work the moment they’d stepped into this room, and wondered where it stemmed from. Most artists, she assumed, were very confident about their creations, almost to the point of being arrogant. But Renny seemed a little leery, as if he were always waiting for approval—for someone to say he’d done a good job.
He was covering the pieces now, his back to her, and she felt a little deflated. He hadn’t even acknowledged her compliment. Well, it’d be a cold day in hell before the magnificent playboy received another one from her. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself the briefest second of romanticizing the man through his work. He was just what she thought he was, a manipulative womanizer. He’d touched her with such softness, such familiarity that she’d, for a moment, believed they’d had some sort of connection. That was absurd. He was Renny Bennett and she was his bodyguard. He was not attracted to her and she was definitely not attracted to him!
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