Guarding His Body. A.C. Arthur
“Bree, just watch yourself around him. Okay? He’s smooth with the ladies and I don’t want to have to walk away from this job because he stepped out of line.”
“Sammy, you’ve clearly had too much coffee this morning. There’s no chance of that happening so don’t even worry about it. Now, I can’t get to work if I’m on the phone with you.”
“You’ve been forewarned,” Sam said before disconnecting the line.
Bree hung up the phone and ran back upstairs to get her cell phone and keys. She walked past the full-length mirror that hung on the wall near the closet and stopped. She’d put on khakis today, a powder-blue color that her mother had picked out for her. Her shirt still resembled a T-shirt but it had a slight V-neck and was the same pale shade as her pants. On her feet were purely functional Reebok classic tennis shoes and her hair was pulled back in her signature ponytail, except it swung loose today.
She stood to the side, studied her silhouette. She didn’t have a bad shape. Sure, she wasn’t as curvy as Lynn and didn’t look as soft as other women, her own muscled biceps flexing as she moved her hands up and down her body, but she was clearly a woman. She turned to get a frontal view. Her face was free of makeup. She never really liked the stuff, but looking at her plain face now she thought maybe some gloss would be okay. After moving to the dresser and finally finding a tube that wasn’t dried out or caked up, she smeared it on her lips, then groaned.
“You’re his bodyguard. This is so silly. He would never be interested in someone like you.” She swiped the back of her hand over her lips and sighed. “And you don’t want him to be, either.”
Without glancing in that traitorous mirror again, Bree grabbed her jacket, keys and phone and left the room. She had a job to do.
Renny had a busy schedule today. He needed to go by the foundry to check on a last-minute piece he’d added to the collection. Then he needed to go past the gallery to meet the decorator and go over the details for the opening with his general manager. And he had to squeeze in time to work on his newest piece. The piece that had been keeping him awake at night.
It was so clear in his mind and as he’d drawn it, he’d felt his pulse quicken, his breath hitch. He’d mounted the armature and had just started to apply the clay earlier this morning. He wasn’t sure if this piece would ever see the light of day. Still, he was compelled to finish it, to have the picture of her etched forever in bronze.
She’d been with him for the past two days. From sunup until sundown, she’d been at his condo hooking up one gizmo after the next. He found her to be very thorough in her duties. She checked and double-checked everything the moment she got there and just before she left. He felt like he was on display in his own home. She had cameras and motion sensors outside his door, along the windows, and bugs in his phone. It was as if he didn’t have any privacy left at all. Not that it was an issue since he never brought women to his home, anyway. It was simply too personal and the moment they were in his house, to their mind’s thinking, they were in his heart and in his pocket, neither of which he was allowing.
He loved women, but he didn’t want a permanent one. As in love as his parents were, Renny was in no hurry to have those emotional entanglements. It just wasn’t for him. He was too focused on himself, his work and his gallery. He’d be no good to a woman. His father had said as much the day he told him refusing to work for Bennett Industries meant he didn’t have a care for his future stability. To Marvin Bennett, being an artist was not stable, it was stupid.
Renny accepted his father’s view, but didn’t let it sway his decision. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to offer a woman the fame and fortune that went along with the Bennett name—because Marvin swore he wouldn’t leave Renny one piece of the company as long as he was playing around with clay and drawing. Renny had a handsome trust fund set up for him by his grandfather on his mother’s side, so he really wasn’t worried about being the proverbial starving artist, but women expected more from a Bennett. They expected to have it all once they landed him and he would ultimately have to disappoint them.
So instead, he dated, had sex and left soon after. There were no mornings waking up beside Renny Bennett, and if any woman dared to say she had, she was surely lying. A hotel or her place was the destination of choice, so he could get up and leave when it suited him. None of them even had his home number, and his cell number was changed periodically because he especially hated the ones that couldn’t let go. His brothers called him ruthless as a businessman when it came to women; he called it a necessity to his own survival and didn’t have any plans of changing his routine.
His bodyguard wasn’t here yet this morning, but then he was leaving a little earlier than she normally arrived. It didn’t matter; she had a key to his place, so if she wanted to go in and check on her gadgets she could. He really didn’t understand why he needed a bodyguard in the first place, and wondered what this little woman could actually do to protect him, anyway. She had loads of energy, though. She moved from the time she came in until the time she left. She drank her water, but he never saw her eat much. Yesterday, he had convinced her to have a slice of pizza, but she hadn’t sat down at the table to consume it. Instead she’d held it in one hand while she pored over maps of the city, saying they needed to have safe routes mapped out in case of an emergency. He’d gone back into his studio then. All her moving about was making him tired. He was as much of a workaholic as the next guy, but his job was more slow, more graceful, while hers seemed to be adrenaline driven, and she was really into it.
His mind had wandered out into the living room as he wondered what she was doing. Had she had enough to eat? When was she going to go to the bathroom after she’d consumed almost a half gallon of water in three hours? And was she biting on her bottom lip like she did when she was concentrating?
As he stepped through the door he shook his head. He shouldn’t even have thought about her lips or the fact that he’d remembered such an inconsequential detail about her like that. He checked the locks the way she told him and even smiled up at the camera just above the entryway. He had his bag on his shoulder as he took the stairs down to his car. Pulling his keys from his back pocket, he hit the button disengaging the alarm and was just about to open his car door when he felt a jab in his back.
He turned around quickly and was faced with her wrath.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going? You didn’t say you were going out today. And you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. You didn’t even look around or check your surroundings. You didn’t see or hear me come up behind you, did you?”
She was like a madwoman, spouting off questions, not waiting for answers. Her sienna eyes sparkling with anger, her chest heaving. Yeah, he found his eyes resting on her chest quite frequently in the past couple of days. He’d never considered himself a breast man before, but admitted that his fingers tingled each time he looked at the perfect roundness of hers.
“Good morning, Sabrina.” He smiled down at her and she clamped her lips closed so tightly he thought she would break a tooth. She opened her mouth to speak again, but closed it just as quickly before taking a deep, steadying breath. She was even more beautiful when she was angry.
Bree instantly felt guilty. Hadn’t Sam just done the same thing to her less than an hour ago? It was a good morning and she should have said that first, but he hadn’t heard her come up behind him and she could have been a hit man with a gun and he wouldn’t have had any time to protect himself and…he’d smiled at her. That smile that left her breathless. “Good morning, Renny.”
“That’s so much better.” He reached for the handle and opened his door.
Bree stepped back to avoid being hit. “You still didn’t tell me where you were going, and you weren’t watching your back.”
Renny tossed his bag into the backseat and climbed inside. “Isn’t that what you get paid to do?”
Oh, no, he wasn’t popping an attitude now. “Yes, it is, and that’s precisely why I’m angry with you now. You should have told me last night before I left that you’d be going out