“Wake up, you useless piece of shit!” Macy kicked Finn in the ankle and then paced the floor of her small dressing room.
“What the fuck!” Finn jumped from the sofa and loomed over her—all seventy-six inches of him—as he wiped the sleep from his uncovered eye. “What did you do that for?”
“I have been searching and searching for you. And you’ve been in here sleeping for the past two hours? You’re supposed to be my bodyguard. If this is an example of how you’re going to do your job then I don’t need you, and you sure as hell aren’t getting paid ten thousand dollars for today.”
She saw him steal a glance at his watch then rub a hand over his five o’clock shadow, which she had to admit looked hot on him. Why couldn’t Caroline have sent some ugly bodyguard?
“Sorry.” He looked as if he was about to say something more but then thought better of it. “Sorry,” he said again. “You ready to call it a day? I’m starving.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, I’m not ready to call it a day. I need to be at the Peninsula Hotel in fifteen minutes. I’m doing an interview with someone at People Magazine. That’s why I was frantic when I couldn’t find you.” Most everyone had already left the studio, and she had gotten weirded out. Maybe she had overreacted a bit, but she was not about to apologize. After all, Finn had been sleeping on the job. She couldn’t have that.
“It’s after eight.”
“So you’d better get dressed. I had someone scrounge around for a jacket for you. Over there on the hook.” She nodded at the row of hooks near the door. “I need to change so please wait outside.”
Macy heard him grumble something before swiping the jacket off the hook and leaving her dressing room. Quickly she slipped out of her dress and stepped into a fresh one. Blue this time. Not that it mattered what she wore. There wouldn’t be any photos tonight. Those had been taken yesterday. This was just the interview portion of the meeting. She struggled with the zipper, got it as far as the middle of her back and sighed.
She went to open the door and saw Finn scowling at her from the hall. He was stuffed into the jacket that she had been so sure would fit him. He was packed into the thing. He looked like the Incredible Hulk. If he moved one muscle the jacket was sure to burst at the seams. In spite of her bad mood, she couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing. “Oh, my God. You can’t wear that. Take it off. You look absolutely ridiculous.”
“Ya think?” He scowled again then cracked a smile. Shrugging out of the jacket, he handed it back to her.
Macy turned to replace it on the hook inside the doorway.
“You need help with that?”
She whipped her head around, not sure what he was talking about.
“Your zipper,” he clarified.
“Oh, yes. Would you mind?” She’d almost forgotten she hadn’t zipped up.
“Not at all. Zippers are my specialty.” He grinned, showing off his straight white teeth.
Rolling her eyes, Macy almost told him to forget it, but she was in a hurry. She turned her back to him and lifted her hair from her shoulders, giving him access to her upper back. The minute he touched her, a shiver ran up her spine and she sucked in a breath. From the mirror she watched his face as he slowly inched the zipper up her back and fastened the hook at her neck.
She should have stepped away from him then, but she didn’t. She just continued to watch him from the mirror. In some ways she had been grateful she hadn’t remembered having sex with him all those months ago. That way she could pretend it had never happened. Nothing to feel ashamed or embarrassed about. But in other ways she wished she could remember. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. Ever since she’d made up a pretend husband. Which did nothing to keep her warm at night, let alone satisfy her needs.
Finn was standing much too close. Close enough she felt his warm breath in her hair. His hands lingered against her neck, his fingers grazing her skin. What was he doing? And why was she still standing there? It would be so easy to just close her eyes, lean into him and see what happened.
She shook her head to clear her lusty thoughts away. She was dead tired and hungry. That must be why she was behaving so strangely. “We should go. I’m going to be late.”
“Yes, we should go,” he agreed.
She let go of her hair and moved away from his touch, went to retrieve her white wool coat. “Do you have a coat, Finn?”
“Yes. Lesley hung it in the coat room when I arrived this afternoon.”
“Good. We can grab it on the way out. I have a car waiting downstairs for us.” And then they were off.
It was only a five minute drive from the tower to the Peninsula Hotel. The town car dropped them at the door and they went inside. Macy seemed to know exactly where she was going so Finn followed her to the bank of elevators. They rode to the lobby floor then walked down a long corridor that showcased a high end jewelry store. Sparkling diamonds and other jewels winked at him from the display window. They took a right and ended up just outside the bar that was actually called The Bar. Good name. He liked it. Simple and to the point.
Macy stopped and turned to look at him. “Would you mind waiting in the lobby?”
Was she serious? “Yes, I’d mind. I’m supposed to be your bodyguard. I can hardly keep an eye on you if I’m out there.”
She didn’t look happy. “Fine. But can you at least wait a minute or so before entering the bar?”
“Are you embarrassed by the way I’m dressed?”
“What?” She ran her eyes over the front of him. “No. But you should be. You look like you’re ready to fight someone. And it wouldn’t hurt you to smile once in a while.”
Finn forced a smile that felt as if he was merely pinching his lips together. “Better?” he asked between clenched teeth.
“Yes. But can you please pretend not to know me while we’re here? I don’t want people staring and wondering who you are. It could get awkward.”
“Awkward. Right,” he said with a sigh, wanting to wring her pretty little neck. “We wouldn’t want people to think there was something going on between us.”
“There’s nothing going on between us. Wait here for one minute, please.”
He spread his hands all innocent like.
“Thank you.” With that she spun on her heel and left him standing there alone.
He waited for two minutes then walked into The Bar. He passed the table where Macy was seated in a big comfy-looking chair in front of the fireplace. He pretended not to know her as he glanced around at their surroundings. Across from her sat a middle-aged blonde in bad need of a dye job.
It wasn’t busy for a Thursday night. A handful of tables were occupied and only three men sat at the bar. He planted himself on a leather stool at the end where he could keep an eye on Macy and ordered a single malt scotch. It went down pretty smoothly.
He watched as Macy chatted away, smiled and acted as if she hadn’t been up since before dawn. He’d noticed earlier she looked and smelled as fresh as she had this afternoon. Some exotic perfume. He remembered that scent from when they had first met. Something spicy like cinnamon or clove maybe, with a flowery scent mixed in as well.
The bar was nice, though not his usual type of watering hole. The dark woods and fireplace added ambience to the decor. Wouldn’t Macy be proud of him for using words like ambience and decor? The fireplace added a nice smoky scent that made the place inviting.
The metro-sexual bartender with the poufy styled hair tapped the bar to get his attention. “Can I get you another drink?”
“Sure. Why not?”
When the bartender placed Finn’s refill in front of him he leaned in close and said in a near whisper, “If you have any ideas of hitting on her, I should probably tell you she’s married.”
“Who’s married?” Finn asked, playing dumb. Was it that obvious he had been watching her? There were other women in the bar, but none that stood out as much as Macy.
“Dr. Macy Winthrop. You keep looking at her.”
“Oh, is that who that is?” He continued with the dumb routine. “No wonder she looked so familiar.”
“Yeah. No offense, but she’s way out of your league, man.” He quickly recovered by adding, “Mine, too. I’m just saying.”
Although Finn should have been offended, he wasn’t. The dude was right. A woman worth thirty million dollars was way out of his league. Plus she was married. Still he couldn’t stop thinking about her. “Does she come in here often?”
“About once a week. I try to look out for her. She’s a nice lady, and a really good tipper.”
“Do you ever see any men watching her? Hitting on her?”
The guy laughed. “Yeah, just about every man who comes in here. I mean, why wouldn’t they look at her? She’s hot.”
She sure was, but Finn kept his comment to himself. His fingers still felt charged after touching her soft skin when he’d zipped her dress. He’d wanted to kiss her so badly, but that would have been a really bad idea. Besides, she probably would have slapped him had he tried. Although she hadn’t brushed his hand away from her neck. He’d seen her looking at him in the mirror as if she was feeling the same thing as him. And what exactly had he been feeling? Hell if he knew. All he could say for sure was that he wanted her, and yet at the same time he didn’t even like her.
He didn’t despise her, the way she did him, but he just couldn’t get past the fact she had been willing to cheat on her husband. And where the hell was this guy anyway? His wife was being threatened and he wasn’t even around. If someone had threatened his wife . . . not that he had a wife, but if he did, and someone had threatened her, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight until the psycho was either dead or behind bars.
The same went for Macy and her safety. When he did a job, even one like this, he did it to the best of his ability. No one was going to get to her. No one.
It was after ten when they left the hotel. Finn had the driver take him to his SUV in the parking garage and then he followed them to Macy’s place. She had an apartment on the forty-sixth floor of a high rise on Walton Street. He parked his car in the garage and hopped into the town car. The driver exited the garage and drove around to the front of the building where they eventually made their way up forty-six floors.
She unlocked the door and they walked inside. Although it wasn’t his taste, Finn fought the urge to whistle through his teeth at the mostly glass and marble pristine residence. All the furniture was white as were the walls and area rugs. He dropped his bag and went on the nickel tour she conducted. The far wall in the living room was an expanse of sliding doors that led to a concrete patio.
She moved in front of the wall of glass. “In the daylight there’s a beautiful view of Lake Michigan. And when the stars are out at night it’s kind of fun to sit outside and stare at the sky.”
“Nice,” he said, for lack of a better word. He didn’t belong here. Was already starting to worry he might mess up the place or leave a fingerprint smudge.
“You like it?” she asked with raised brows.
“Sure,” he lied. “What’s not to like?” As impressive as it was meant to be he sure as hell would never live there. It looked like the inside of an igloo.
She frowned and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s not my taste.”
That surprised him. “So why not change it? You can afford it.”
“It’s not my apartment. The studio owns it. I’ve thought about getting a place of my own, but I haven’t decided if I want to stay in Chicago or not.” She slipped out of her coat and tossed it over the back of one of the white sofas.
“Don’t you need to live close by?”
“Yes, if I renew my contract.”
That statement surprised him even more. “You’re thinking about leaving the show? To do what? Movies or something?”
She laughed. “No. I just want some time off. It gets a little lonely living here by myself.”
“How often does your husband travel?”
She bit at her lip before answering. “All the time.”
That sucked.
“My days and nights consist of work, work and more work. And God forbid I want to take a day off and just hang out. People recognize me wherever I go. I always have to be in a good mood even when I’m not. I’d like just one day to be me.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear me whine. That’s not why you’re here.” She turned and headed down a hall. “Come. I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
Finn followed behind her and waited for her to switch on the light to what appeared to be a suite.
“I’m sure you’ll be comfortable here.”
He poked his head inside the doorway. A king size bed and a sitting area occupied most of the space. Again, all white. White painted mantle above the fireplace, white walls and white bedding. “And where will you be sleeping?”
She pointed to a doorway. “My room is just down the hall.”
“Maybe I should sleep in there with you. Just in case.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Nice try.”
He grinned. “Or I could just stay here in the guest suite.”
She nodded. “Are you hungry? I asked the cook to make an extra dinner for you.”
“I’m starving. Thought you’d never ask.”
The spotless kitchen had white marble countertops and stainless appliances. Something smelled good as he walked further into the room. Macy slid her hands into oven mitts, opened the oven door and extracted two foil covered plates. Finn enjoyed the view of her ass as she was bent over. She brought the plates to the breakfast bar. “Is it okay if we eat here? Or would you prefer the dining room?”
“This is fine.” Although he wasn’t sure his ass was going to fit on those narrow stools, he certainly didn’t want to eat on the stark white upholstered dining room chairs.
“I usually have a glass of wine with dinner, but I’m not sure I should drink around you. You saw what happened the last time.”
“You can’t control yourself when you’re around me. Huh, baby?”
A smile ruffled her lips. “You have the biggest ego of any man I have ever met.”
“I’ve been told that a time or two.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“Go ahead. Choose a wine,” he said, nodding at the built-in wine cubbies along the wall. “I promise to be on my best behavior, now that I know you’re . . . married. Something you neglected to mention when I first met you.”
She didn’t respond to his dig. She went to the wine wall and took a bottle out, studied the label. “Chateauneuf-du-Pape. This should go nicely with the lamb kabobs.” She brought it over for him to inspect.
He didn’t know a damn thing about wine, other than he liked it. Not as much as he liked his Heineken. He certainly didn’t know what type of wine to serve with lamb. But he liked the way she had said the name. Chateauneuf-du-Pape. He was smart enough to know it was French.
Nodding his approval, he said, “I’ll open it.” He took it to the portable bar in the corner of the room where he’d seen the wineglasses and looked for the opener. Once he’d completed the task, he poured a little into each of their glasses and brought them to the breakfast bar.
Macy had laid out silverware and napkins. She slid the foil off the plates and the first thing he thought when he saw the pint-sized portions was where’s the beef?
“Is something wrong? Don’t you like lamb?”
“I like lamb.”
She stared at him awkwardly, was probably waiting for him to explain his reaction.
“No wonder you stay so thin when you obviously eat like a bird.” There were only three bites of lamb on each skewer, nestled between a few slices of green pepper and onion. The skewer was lying over a serving of rice. A very small serving. There couldn’t be more than half a cup of the white stuff on each plate.
She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, I should have asked the cook to make you a little extra. I guess you’re used to eating a lot of calories with all those muscles. You can eat my dinner.” She slid her plate next to his. “I think I have some salad fixings. I can eat that.”
While he appreciated the generosity he couldn’t let her do that. “Sit down. Eat. If I’m still hungry after this I’ll make an omelet or something. You have eggs, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said as she climbed atop the bar stool. She ran a hand along the back of her neck as if she was working out a kink. A moment later she let one shoe drop to the floor with a loud thud then the other one as she released a noise that sounded like a combination of a sigh and a moan. “That feels better.”
He would have to agree. The things looked horribly uncomfortable, yet as he’d watched Macy trot around in them all day and evening, the heels hadn’t seemed to faze her.
“So, you like to cook?”
He shrugged while shoveling food into his mouth. “Sure.”
“Some women find that sexy.”
He nearly choked and reached for his wine. He downed it in two gulps. “Do you find it sexy?”
She ignored him, refusing to take the bait, obviously. “What else do you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“For fun? For recreation?”
Get drunk. Pick up chicks. She probably didn’t want to hear that. “I knit. Do women find that sexy too?”
This time she choked. Literally. Her face turned red as she coughed. She dabbed at her watery eyes with her napkin. “Seriously?”
“No.” He held back a grin.
“I mean, it’s okay if you do. I’m not judging.” She stared at him, studied his face for a moment. “Tell me the truth. What do you do for fun?”
“I run. Work out. I go to the shooting range.”
She smiled and nodded her head. “Shooting range. I should have known. It seems like something you would do. Do you have a lot of guns?”
“How many is a lot?”
“More than two?”
“Yep.”
“Can you teach me how to shoot?”
His brows shot up. Wasn’t expecting that. “Do you have a gun?”
“No. But it’s probably time I get one. Don’t you think? After being threatened and all?”
She had a point, but still. Firearms in the wrong hands could be deadly. And she didn’t strike him as a woman who could defend herself. “Well, for now, why don’t you let me worry about your safety?”
“So you brought a gun with you?”
“Yes.” He’d actually brought several firearms but he didn’t need to mention that fact to her. “No need to worry.” He patted a hand on the Glock beneath his shirt.
She brought a hand to her throat, set her fork aside. “Oh.”
“You’re going to be fine. I’m going to find this sick fuck and blow his brains out if I have to.” Her face paled. Probably too much information. “Macy, you need to trust me.” It was the first time he’d ever called her by her name.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he said as well.
She climbed off the stool and took her plate to the sink. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get up early. I’m going to take a hot bath and then go to bed. If you want to work out there’s an exercise room next to my room.”
“What about your zipper? You need some help with that?” And why had he asked?
“Yes, please.” She offered him her back and stepped between his open thighs still perched on the stool. She lifted her hair from her neck and he went to work. He breathed in her scent. Clove. Definitely clove. Slowly he inched the zipper down her back, past her bra. All the way down. He caught a glimpse of her panties. Blue like the bra. Like her eyes.
He wanted to touch her and just as he lifted his hand to graze her skin, she said, “That night was a mistake. It’s not going to happen again.”
“Right.” He lowered his hand and rested it on his knee.
“Good night, Finn.”
He watched as she disappeared around the corner. Then Finn picked up his own plate and took it to the sink. He rinsed both plates off, popped them into the dishwasher and turned off the kitchen lights. The mention of a workout sounded like a great idea. Then maybe a cold shower. Because if he didn’t do something to get his mind off Macy Winthrop he was going to do or say something he might regret. And it was going to be sexual in nature for sure.