HER BODYGUARD Page 11

  "Really?" She sounded worried.

  "Really." Beads of perspiration dotted his upper lip, and his fingers tightened into fists in his pockets. He risked another glance at the plunging neckline, smooth column of her neck, and bare skin of her arms, and took in a long, slow breath. "It's warm for October, but won't you be cold dressed like that?"

  "Oh, I have a black silk satin wrap to wear. It's a reproduction, but just gorgeous. It'll keep me warm." She smiled, and held out her arms. "Let's do a dry run of a waltz. I want you to take me and my dress for a practice spin." She laughed suddenly, a low, husky sound. "A test drive."

  Seeing her wicked grin, he raised a brow. "What's so funny?"

  "A private joke. C'mon, Matt." She smiled, her tone entreating. "I'm counting on you tonight. Don't disappoint me."

  Matt hesitated – sensing something else shading her words, the playful gleam in her eyes – then took her outstretched hand.

  What harm could there be in enjoying the feel of her? Holding her in his arms this last night, before he put her on that airplane back to New York, wouldn't break any rules.

  Pulling her closer, Matt rested his hand on her back, rather than below her shoulder. A look of surprise flashed across her face before she smiled and began humming a waltz melody.

  For several minutes, Matt close-danced her around the parlor. "You ready to dip?"

  Their eyes met a split second before he smoothly spun her under his arm. He tipped her back, his other arm supporting her, and bending so close that he was a fraction of an inch from her mouth.

  In that moment, his need overwhelmed him in a hot rush that burned away every last shred of his hard-held resolve.

  To hell with the rules and all his reasons to keep his distance. This was his last detail, and his last chance with Lili. He wanted her, if only for the one night. If he offered her the chance, and if she accepted, he'd take her in a heartbeat.

  "Is that what you wanted?" he asked, his voice low.

  A slow smile curved her mouth. "You're getting there."

  *

  Stealing a quick peek at Matt as she sat beside him in the car, Lili admired how he filled out his broad-shouldered, boxy suit. Not every man could look that damn sexy in a fedora. On him, it oozed mystery and danger.

  The car was quiet except for Dal's latest CD playing softly on the speakers, and Lili felt a change in Matt's manner toward her. Something had altered between them earlier, and her woman's senses whispered that, at long last, she'd snared the attention of the man, not just the bodyguard.

  One-night stands didn't appeal to her, yet men like Matt Hawkins didn't happen along in her life every day – and she was powerfully attracted to him. Not only to his good looks, but to everything about him: his quiet strength, his unobtrusive intelligence, his dry sense of humor, and the way he made her aware of herself as a woman – and, especially, his protectiveness, even though he was only doing his job.

  If she passed up the opportunity to seek a deeper, more intimate connection she knew she'd regret it, and while she could accept her mistakes and failures, she absolutely loathed regrets.

  Shifting, Lili forced her thoughts away from Matt and eased her feet out of Rose's shoes. She'd have aching toes by the end of the night, but hopefully they'd earn her a mention in the style section of the local paper, as well as a few business contacts.

  This was, after all, why she was in Chicago in the first place – to sell her shoes, not to get laid.

  Also, three different museums in the Chicago area alone wanted Rose's shoes for display, and although she'd become very attached to them, she was feeling expansive, magnanimous. Tonight she'd be willing to bargain, and maybe work a deal that would make everybody happy.

  Tonight was a night of possibilities. Who knew what might happen?

  "We're coming up on the building now," Dal said, switching off the CD player. "What do you want me to do?"

  "Drive around the perimeter," Matt ordered, leaning forward.

  With a nod, Dal continued along North Clark, driving by the red brick mass of Moody Church. After he passed the historical society – which suffered from an architectural schizophrenic personality; the back Greek Revival, the front a boxy, sterile postwar addition – he swung the big car onto LaSalle.

  Lili glanced at Matt, then Manny. Both men were looking intently out the windows as they drove down the busy streets. Dal made a circuit of the area and came up again toward the rear of the building, which faced Lincoln Park.

  "What's going on?" she asked, puzzled.

  "A drive-by check," Matt said, still looking out the window. "Slow down."

  "There's no good spot," Manny muttered as Dal slowed the car to a near crawl. "The semicircle drive is the best for drop-off. Better than the front, since they've locked the main doors."

  "Matt," Lili said quietly. "What's the problem?"

  "I don't like the set-up." He glanced away from the window. "Entrance is through the rear of the building, and it's easy for someone to hide in a park."

  "But the front of the building isn't any better," Manny added. "There's heavy pedestrian and vehicle traffic on a Saturday night. Anybody walking around out there could be our guy, and the cars and buildings along the street make it hard to secure the area."

  "In other words, you feel I'm vulnerable entering and exiting the building."

  "Yes," Matt said.

  "So where do you want me to drop you off?" Dal sounded calm.

  "The circle drive, as we planned. We'll have a five-minute walk to the back steps. Lili, you do exactly as I tell you."

  "Do you think something is going to happen?"

  He met her gaze briefly. "There are extra guards patrolling the grounds, so there shouldn't be any problems. But I'm taking no chances."

  Dal turned into the semicircular drive off North Boulevard. As he brought the car to a rolling stop, Matt reached inside his jacket and unsnapped his holster.

  On a flutter of fear, Lili considered telling Dal to turn around and go back to the hotel, but she remembered Matt telling her not to let fear run her life. Refusing to give this man who terrorized her power over her, she forced back her apprehension.

  "I'll check in every half-hour on the hour," Matt said as Manny stepped out of the car.

  "Okay." Dal smiled. "Have fun."

  Matt didn't respond as he opened his door. Lili waited until Matt and Manny surveyed the area, then Matt opened her door and motioned her out. He covered her as she exited, shielding her with his body. Manny moved into position, and they walked swiftly along the dimly lit walkway toward the plaza, with its wide steps leading up to the elegant columns and portico outside the second floor.

  From the car, she'd seen tables set up on the plaza; the gala's organizers had taken advantage of the unseasonably warm October weather to let guests mingle outside as well as inside.

  At the moment, though, Lili couldn't see anything except Manny's back. Between the two men, they effectively covered her, and it made walking a little tricky. She had to take shorter steps to keep from tromping on the back of Manny's shoes.

  An armed security guard met them halfway to the building, and escorted them the rest of the distance. Through a box of broad male shoulders, Lili glimpsed a number of people already gathered on the plaza, drifting amid tables set with la-di-da munchies, white tablecloths fluttering in the breeze. Formally dressed waiters with drink trays moved among the costumed guests.

  A number of people wore detailed historical costumes that looked like something right out of a Shakespearean play, while others had dressed up as celebrities, or characters from popular movies and books. But Matt didn't give her time to linger. He ushered her quickly up the steps, his hand on the small of her back. Lili flashed her invitation and passed through the glass doors and into the East Lobby, the heels of Rose's shoes click-clacking on the black-and-white marble floor.

  That five-minute walk had seemed to take half a lifetime, and she became aware of a faint trembling in her h
ands.

  God, she was tired of living with this constant fear!

  As she took a long, calming breath, Matt thanked the security guard, who nodded and headed back the way he'd come. Looking out the doors, she glimpsed the statue of a seated Abraham Lincoln in the distance, and the headlights of passing cars on the streets beyond that.

  "Stay here," Matt told Manny. "Nobody gets in without an invitation."

  Manny nodded. He positioned himself by the main doors in a wide-legged stance, hands clasped before him. As she and Matt walked away, Lili smiled and waved. Manny grinned back briefly, then returned to bodyguard mode.

  Chatting and smiling, shaking hands in introductions, Lili slowly worked her way through the crowd of people and down the steps toward the North Atrium. She slowed as she passed under the graceful curve of a marble staircase – festooned with garlands of white roses, ivory ribbons, and gauzy golden bows – and lit from above by a softly glowing crystal chandelier.

  The atrium was lovely, and she smiled with delight at the pale white columns of the twostory loggias. The walls were adorned with elaborately framed watercolor scenes from the Chicago World's Fair of 1893, and dozens of circular tables with white linen tablecloths dotted the floor, each table boasting a lush floral arrangement of white and gold, and set with china and silver and crystal.

  "Look at the ceiling, Lil."

  Matt stood beside her, his hand at her back – but his touch tonight felt possessive; the touch of a lover, not a guardian.

  Smiling, oddly warm of a sudden, Lili looked up at what appeared to be a night sky with stars twinkling away. It wasn't real, of course, but it added that final, magical touch – perfect for the night's mood of make-believe.

  "I feel like I'm in a fairy tale," she murmured, and when she looked down again, Matt's gaze was on hers and his mouth so close that she almost stopped breathing.

  But he only smiled, glanced up again, and slowly shook his head as if he couldn't quite believe the ceiling, either.

  Or maybe it was that he'd come awfully close to kissing her that he couldn't believe.

  Ever optimistic, Lili latched on to the latter, and as they went in to dinner together, he crooked his elbow at her with a half-smile. Lighthearted, trying not to be too hopeful, she took his arm and let him lead her to their table.

  The dinner passed smoothly. Matt sat on her left, and to her right was one of the dozen or so Phantoms of the Opera – just as she wasn't the only flapper, or Matt the only gangster. Still, in her opinion, her dress was the prettiest and Matt was by far the sexiest gangster in the crowd.

  Lili did most of the talking, chatting up her business and showing off Rose's shoes whenever asked to do so – which was often, as a number of guests had attended her earlier lecture at the society.

  Barely an hour had passed before she'd handed out all her business cards, and resorted to jotting down notes, names, and numbers on cocktail napkins. Then, on her way back from a trip to the ladies' room, Matt at her side, she cornered the columnist who wrote for the art section of the Chicago Tribune. Naturally the columnist had a photographer with her, and Lili charmed and schmoozed until she finagled a picture of herself, draped in a dramatic pose along the marble staircase.

  Lili caught Matt's eye and winked just before the photographer snapped the picture.

  Surprising her, he threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the high-ceilinged room and filling her with a warm delight – and the most powerful pull of desire she'd ever experienced.

  Now, as Lili delicately licked the last bit of chocolate mousse off her spoon, the Phantom sitting beside her leaned close – too close, again – and said, "Here's a good one. There's this blond, see, and she's driving through a park…"

  Tired of the man's endlessly tasteless jokes, and annoyed at how he was practically breathing down her neckline, Lili scooted her chair closer to Matt. Lili hoped the Phantom would take the hint before Matt caught on, because she didn't want a repeat performance of the Redhead Piano Bar incident.

  As she bumped her chair a fraction of an inch closer, her thigh brushed Matt's, but he made no effort to shift away. After a moment, she glanced at him over her coffee cup.

  "Is something wrong?" he murmured, leaning toward her so that his shoulder pressed intimately against her arm.

  Heat washed over her, and she managed to shake her head. "Not at all."

  He smiled – not that polite, working-on-the-clock smile, but one of rare warmth, and Lili couldn't help reading encouragement in it.

  As the meal wound to its close, she and Matt gradually leaned nearer and nearer into each other. Her feminine instincts warned that he was putting the moves on her in his own understated – yet very effective – way. In a way that meant he would create the opportunity, but she had to take the next step.

  While the waiters cleared their plates away, Lili caught him watching her with a quiet, almost expectant, intensity. Quickly, before giving herself a chance to think twice, she slid her hand over to his lap, taking his hand in hers.

  His mouth tightened and his muscles stiffened. She went still, worrying that she'd somehow misread him, despite this unmistakable heat of attraction tingling between them.

  No. Absolutely no way had she misread him – more than likely, it was his blasted professionalism suddenly waning with his very human needs.

  "You think too much," Lili whispered, leaning against him. When a look of wry amusement crossed his face, she added, "That wasn't a joke, you know."

  "I know. It's just that getting accused of thinking too much isn't something that happens a lot to guys like me."

  Lili sent him a speculative glance, part curiosity, part disbelief. Was he saying people didn't think he was smart? Ridiculous; the man had "intelligence" and "capability" written all over him. "Well, you do think too much. And you give yourself too many rules."

  "This particular rule is a good one," he said, not pretending to misunderstand her unspoken meaning.

  Yet he hadn't slipped his hand from hers.

  "You're here as my date. You can act the part as much as you want."

  The look he gave her said he found the excuse as weak as it sounded to her own ears. A scant second later, his gaze slowly tracked downward over the low neckline of her dress and the flimsy silk chiffon that skimmed her curves. She could almost imagine his fingers touching her with the same lingering slowness as his gaze, and she grew warm again under his scrutiny.

  Then, with a brief squeeze, he pulled his hand from hers. He looked away, surveyed the room, and checked in with Dal and Manny.

  Lili stared down at the tablecloth. She shouldn't be frustrated or disappointed; he was doing what he needed to do, and distracting him wasn't a good idea. Still, she recognized half the people in this room, and the rest hardly looked menacing. They looked and acted as if they belonged. No one seemed as if they'd crashed the party. If she could see this, then certainly Matt could.

  Quickly draining the last of her coffee, Lili put the cup down and, before she lost her nerve, touched Matt's shoulder. He turned to her, brow raised in question.

  "I know I've been a pain in the ass this week, but I do want to thank you for what you've done for me. You, Manny, and Dal have helped make a very frightening and difficult time much easier to deal with."

  "It's my—"

  "Please." She held up her hand to silence him. "I know it's your job, but I still want to thank you. Didn't they teach you in bodyguard school how to accept a compliment with grace?"

  A reluctant smile curved his mouth. "Yes."

  Still watching him, she said abruptly, "I've been doing some thinking myself lately."

  The muscles of his arm, still pressed against hers, went taut, and a sudden wariness hardened his face.

  In the same quiet voice, she added, "It's not as if I think I'm in any real danger, because I trust you to keep me safe, but this week I've realized how easily someone could take my life away. It made me see that I take too much for
granted, and I'd be happier if I changed a few things in my life."

  He took a long breath, tension easing away from him. "Such as?"

  "For one, I let people do too much for me. It's not because I'm scatterbrained or disorganized. I know I'm not … but people have been telling me that for so long, I've let myself believe it, and lived up to everybody's expectations of Lili the dreamer, the butterfly." She frowned. "I guess, more accurately, I've lived down to expectations."

  "Lili, I've watched you tonight. You charm people, and you're smart and talented. You're being too hard on yourself."

  "I'm satisfied with what I've accomplished, but what I mean is that I've really never had to depend on me. Somebody's always there to bail me out: my parents, Jared, my friends. You."

  "But—"

  "I know, I know. Don't say it." She grinned at him, to take away the sting of sarcasm in her voice. "I'm serious, Matt. I've never really had to take a chance without the cushion of family or friends to fall back on, and now I'm feeling a need to take a few risks. To get out of a rut. To do something just for me."

  His wariness returned, and she supposed he had cause. The risks she was talking about included him, in letting the night's events unwind as they may, and going where they'd take her.

  She glanced away, watching guests head toward the East Lobby and hearing the drifting strains of violins and cellos.

  Seized with a sudden uncertainty, she stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. She wanted to ask him to dance, but maybe she should slow down, spend time talking, think things through—

  "Lili."

  At the touch of Matt's hand on her bare arm, she looked up, her senses acutely alive to his touch, the sound of his voice, his scent.

  "So whaddya say, dollface?" He tipped back the fedora, smiling an irresistible half-smile, humor sparkling in his gray eyes – and looking so handsome that a sweet, aching pang spread through her. "You wanna dance?"