Under Pressure

Talking meant explaining, and she needed more time for that. Like...maybe a couple of days. “Food, definitely.” Then if she had to make a run for it, at least she’d have a modicum of energy.

Stripping off her coat, she tossed it toward the suitcase. Given the amount of walking she’d done, the boots were starting to pinch her feet. Hopping on first one foot and then the other, she removed them, letting them drop to the floor by the side of the bed. Enjoying the freedom, she wiggled her toes inside her socks. That felt good enough that she also peeled off the thick sweatshirt, leaving her in jeans, socks and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

She pushed back her hair, freed the band from her wrist and secured a ponytail.

More comfortable, she headed to the table and chairs, unaware of Leese staring until she glanced up to ask if he was ready to eat too.

That hot gaze of his had been all over her body, but immediately jumped to her face. “Let me.” He got close to pull out her chair, bringing with him that irresistible scent of fresh outdoors mixed with man.

She inhaled deeply.

In her old world, men were often well mannered and polite. They were also manipulative and mercenary, focused on a pampered social status that blinded them to the ugliness of reality.

The old world felt a million miles away, and nothing about Leese felt pampered. “Thank you.”

He set out the food, napkins, even opened her straw and stuck it in her malt. “Help yourself,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

When he walked away, Cat turned to watch. He prowled around the suite studying the locks on the windows and closing the drapes, even in the bedroom.

Then he left.

As the door closed behind him, she froze.

An insidious sensation—fear, worry—crawled into her soul. They were such familiar emotions, usually with her every second.

But not since meeting Leese. Not like this.

The suite that only seconds before felt warm and comfortable now felt isolated.

The door opened again and he strode in, going still when he saw her face. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Her lungs filled with air, a refreshing breath of reassurance. He hadn’t left her at all. Refusing to be pitied, she choked out, “Nothing.”

His expression shifted from sharp awareness to soft understanding. “We’ll need to work on that habit you have of lying.” In only a few long, casual strides he stood beside her. Looking into her eyes, he asked, “Want to try again?”

Not really. She cleared her throat. “Where did you go?”

“Just checking on things.”

“Like?”

“Staircase, other rooms, windows.”

Oh. He’d once again been assuring her safety? Astounding. Her muscles further relaxed. Acting as if the panic hadn’t happened, she gestured to the table. “Are you going to eat now?”

“Yeah.” He took his seat, still attuned to her yet not intimidating her with his stare. He hesitated only a heartbeat, then said, “I’m not budging, Cat, okay?”

That was the first time he’d called her that. “You know my nickname?”

“I know a lot about you.”

Wow, such a cryptic answer. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask, especially since he couldn’t possibly know the most important things.

“I also heard Wayne call you that.”

Oh yeah. He didn’t miss much. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Keep you safe.” He took a big bite of a chicken wrap that looked to have tomato and lettuce on it, but nothing else. He followed that up with a drink of tea before adding, “Whatever it takes.”

A not-so-simple answer to a very complicated question. He so easily shook her, mostly because he said things with such conviction she couldn’t help but believe him.

And believing anyone right now was just plain foolish.

She picked up a fry. “Okay, that’s long-term. But for tonight?”

“Once you’re ready for bed, Justice can sit here while I go to his room to shower.” He took another bite. “Then we’ll get some sleep.”

In bed. Or rather, one bed, one couch. She made a noncommittal sound and slurped down half her malt to try to cool a sudden rise in her temperature.

Amused, Leese asked, “What did you think would happen?”

“No idea, really. I’ve had supposed bodyguards after me for a while now, but none of them were like you.” She ate a few more bites, thinking, wondering how far she could push him. “You’ll sleep here, right? I mean...on the couch?”

“Yeah.” He finished off his food. “What kinds of bodyguards have you known?”

How to put it so that she wouldn’t give away too much? If he was as up-front as he seemed and really didn’t understand the ramifications and complications of the situation, she didn’t want to clue him in tonight. He could react badly.

He could decide she wasn’t worth the trouble.

Or that she was worth the payoff.

Just to see what he’d do, she settled on a tiny truth, saying, “Mostly the kind who worked for someone else.”

He paused, then slowly sat forward to rest a forearm on the table. After studying her expression, he shrugged. “You already know someone else hired me. Otherwise I’d know nothing about you. But I think what you’re saying is that these other bodyguards had ulterior motives...beyond your safety?”

In a nutshell. “Let’s just say safety is subjective.”

“Let’s don’t.” Startling her, he put one big hand on her wrist. His palm was hot, his fingers rough, and the touch made her pulse gallop. “You’re either safe from harm, all harm, or you’re not. I intend to keep you safe from harm.”

Cat swallowed to regain her voice. Get a grip, she told herself. He’s only touching your wrist in sympathy, for crying out loud.

Because you’re being so damned pathetic. And cowardly.

And because, as he said, someone paid him to look out for you.

“Yeah,” she rasped. “That’s how I figured it too.”

His thumb brushed over her skin, then he patted her—like a dog, blast him—and retreated. “I was hired to keep you safe and that’s what I plan to do. So rest easy on that, okay?”