An Unforgettable Lady(9)

Too bad it hadn't been Cuppie he'd been watching over.

She swallowed through a tight throat. He was exactly as she remembered him, larger than life, colder than ice. His face was drawn in bold lines, anchored by a square jaw and a nose that looked as if it had been broken at least once. His haircut was short as a military man's, his penetrating eyes an intense blue. This time, he was wearing a black leather jacket and a pair of well-worn blue jeans, but he looked every bit as commanding as he had in the tuxedo.

As he stood in front of her, she remembered exactly how it had felt to be kissed by him, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. He didn't show a lick of emotion. There was no shock or disbelief as he starred at her, not even curiosity. His opaque gaze betrayed nothing except for his intelligence and a quiet, brooding menace.

"You know each other?" Nick asked.

When the other man didn't offer an explanation, Grace murmured, "We met... sort of, at a party. Recently.”

Nick's eyebrow cocked as Grace stepped forward, offering her hand. She was nervous about getting close to John Smith, afraid that something of what had happened between them might show in her face.

"It's good to see you again."

As soon as he gripped her palm, she felt like she'd been hit by an electrical charge. The sensation ran through her fingers, up her arm, and pegged her in the chest. She pulled back abruptly.

Just as she had the first time she'd shaken his hand.

"Would you like us to stay with you?" Carter asked her. "While you talk?"

Grace shook her head and they left her alone. With him.

"Won't you sit down?" she asked.

A mocking light came into his eyes as he picked a chair opposite the sofa and lowered his body down in it. Even seated, he looked tall, she thought.

"You don't seem surprised to see me." Grace settled on the sofa, crossing her legs. His eyes followed the movement lingering on her calves, before returning to her face.

"I don't put myself in positions where I'm going to be surprised." His voice was deep and gravelly, totally confident.

He was all male, she thought, with the requisite pride, arrogance, and ego that came with an overload of testosterone. Of course, he did look tough as nails, so maybe that faith in himself was justified. She sure wouldn't want to get him angry. She'd done that once already and all it'd gotten her was a fantasy life she could do without.



"So let's talk about why I'm here." He crossed his arms over his chest. Impatience came off him in waves, threading through his low voice.

Grace's fingers went to her heavy engagement ring and she began twisting it around in circles. When those sharp; eyes of his flicked over the movement, she forced herself to sit still.

She should just tell him to go, as she'd planned to, as she would have if there was a stranger sitting in that chair.

He was a stranger, she reminded herself.

"I'm afraid you've wasted your time." When she paused, his eyebrow rose. "I mean, I don't think you can help me. Er—that I need help."

As she tripped over her words, she wondered where in the hell her head was. Probably down the same black hole her life had fallen into.

"I can reimburse you for your travel up here," she added quickly.

“I’m sure of that," he drawled, looking back down at her rings. There was a subtle disdain in his eyes, tightness to his mouth that suggested there were other places he'd rather be.

She bristled at his tone and the expression. She could tell he didn't think much of her. So why had he come? As a favor to Nick?

"And I apologize for any inconvenience."

"How polite of you."

Silence stretched between them.

"I just don't think I'm in sufficient danger to justify a bodyguard."

"That so."

"Yes. Nick insisted on calling you. It wasn't my idea."

"Oh really."

Grace glared at him. He sent her a bored look in return.

He could at least pretend to be interested, she thought.

She crossed her arms over her chest, realized she was mimicking his pose and put her hands back in her lap. She had an absurd urge to yell at him because he was getting under her skin with all his terse silence, making her feel foolish and frivolous.

She narrowed her eyes and gave in to a childish urge to talk at him. Just to prove she could.