Beau sucked in his breath. The woman was dangerous. She didn’t know him from Adam. Didn’t it occur to her that she could be baiting the killer? He reached down without trying to be obvious and re-arranged his cock, which had swelled into full fucking-mode. With the show over, he left the room. He had a job to do.
First on his list was sweet retribution.
****
“I don’t want a bodyguard, Kirk! I’m not…” Marissa caught herself before saying something she couldn’t take back. She tried to calm down when she realized she was yelling. “You’re blowing this thing way out of proportion.”
“Am I?” he asked with the never-ending calm and self-confidence that she was beginning to find annoying.
Nevertheless, he was her agent, and good at what he did. Because of that, she could put up with his irritating traits.
“You think it’s just a coincidence that two-plus size models are dead?”
“Well”
He didn’t let her finish. “You think it’s just a coincidence that they both fell to their deaths?”
“Well”
“And that they”
“Will you let me get a word in?” Marissa snapped, frustrated. She was exhausted, hungry and she wanted a shower. “There have been bigger coincidences, Kirk. The police haven’t even linked the two, ah, deaths.” She knew if she said killings he would pounce on it. To him that would be as good as saying that she agreed with him. “I watch the news too, you know. And I don’t need some bodyguard around screwing up the first weekend I’ve had off in two months.”
“Beau Evans isn’t just any bodyguard, Marissa. He owns”
“Beau? Great! He even has a good old Texas boy’s name. And is he a cowboy, too? I can just see him now. Some big, lumbering galoot in dusty boots, cowboy hat, and a cheek full of tobacco. I’ll bet his tone is brimming over with a soft twang, too. Yes ma’am. No ma’am.” She took in a breath.
“Not everyone in Texas is a cowboy.”
Is that all he could say? Marissa could hear the exasperation in Kirk’s tone. It made her smile. “If you think I need a bodyguard, why don’t you come down and do the job? What am I paying you for, anyway?” That would get his goat. She could just see his eyebrows lifting with her suggestion.
“You don’t pay me to protect you; you pay me to book your events. And you know I’m afraid of my own shadow.” There was humor in his tone.
In spite of the situation, Marissa chuckled. There wasn’t a violent bone or thought in Kirk’s round little body. He actually reminded her of one of the little munchkins from The Wizard of Oz. “Well, I would think you’d want to protect your interest.”
There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “I am. Why do you think I hired Beau Evans? He isn’t cheap, believe me.”
“Well, if you hired him with my money, you can fire him. I don’t need or want a bodyguard. I’ve got a nice quiet weekend planned. Even if there is a serial killer out there who’s targeting chunky models, how hurt do you think I’ll get if I fall from one story?”
“That’s not funny, Marissa.”
“I’m sorry.” Kirk was right, it wasn’t funny. There was nothing humorous about the unexplained deaths of two up and coming models in one month.
Marissa wasn’t usually so argumentative or insensitive, but she’d been up for twenty hours straight and she was running on empty. She’d just finished a grueling photo shoot, her last walk down the runway. And she’d been in the process of undressing when the phone rang.
“Look, I’m a big girl,” Marissa heard him snicker on the other end. “Don’t get cute. You know what I mean. You call Mr. Evans and fire him or I will. I can take care of myself.”
“Is that so?”
Before Marissa could take another breath, she was grabbed from behind. A large hand covered her mouth. Her eyes rounded and she dropped the phone to claw it away. Then a solid arm slid around her waist and hauled her back against a hard body.