No way was she touching the stuff today. She wanted a clear head. "Water will be fine."
Rory raised an eyebrow but took his seat and studied her. "You're not at all what I expected you to become."
"Really?" She kept her tone disinterested. She had a good idea what he'd expected her to become. He'd made that clear at their last meeting.
"Actually, I like the scar." He gave a small smile. "Gives you character."
She smiled sweetly; she'd been practicing. "That's nice. I aim to please."
Beside her, Steve choked on a mouthful of water, and she reached across and patted him on the back.
Rory's eyes narrowed on the movement. "So," he said, "I hear you went back to see Declan yesterday and I know you stayed for a while."
He didn't sound too bothered by the idea. Had she suddenly become acceptable? "Still spying on him?"
Before he could answer, the door opened and Declan stepped through. He closed the door behind him and stood just inside the room, taking in the occupants. Like yesterday, he was immaculately dressed in a dark suit and tie, his hair in place. The only sign of his close encounter with death was a cut on his forehead.
Staring at the jagged red line, the fact sank in: he could have died that morning. The idea made her want to lock him away somewhere safe until all this was sorted. And she couldn't understand the reaction.
Declan nodded at Dave and Steve, ignored his father, and finally focused on Jess. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he stared.
…
Once again, she wasn't wearing any makeup but her lips were pink, maybe a little swollen from his kisses yesterday. Her dark blue eyes held no expression.
There was a seat opposite her, but first he went and grabbed the bottle of scotch and a glass from the sideboard behind his father. He took it to the table and sat down, poured himself a drink, and swallowed it in one go. He looked up to find everyone watching him with varying expressions, from Jess's deadpan, to the two men's disapproval, to his father's … amusement?
"Was the hotel okay?" his dad asked.
"It was fine."
"You could always come and stay with me."
"I don't think so."
His father cast a glance at Jess. "Worried I'll cramp your style?"
"No. Anyway, it's only for one night. Paul's finding me an apartment to rent. One I can move into immediately."
Jess cleared her throat. Loudly. "Er … do you think we can move on here?"
He sat back in his chair and smiled. "Of course."
"So have you changed your mind? Is the job on?"
He held her gaze. "The job is on." He tried to read her expression, but she was giving nothing away. Back when she was seventeen, he'd been able to read her every thought. She'd hidden nothing, flashed every emotion for everyone to see. Somewhere along the way she'd learned to hide that and he felt a flicker of sadness. She'd been so full of life, fizzing with energy. Like a wild fire, liable to go out of control at any moment.
That last meeting, at the hospital, she'd been full of disbelief. He'd told her they could still be friends and that she should come to him if she needed anything. But he'd had to go, had to get some distance. She turned him into a person he didn't want to be. The close encounter with the police had shown him that. The police hated his family-and maybe they'd had good reason. His older brother Logan, had already been serving time on some trumped-up assault charge that anyone else would have walked away from.
A week before the crash, she'd stolen a goddamn car. And he'd gone a long with her, because she loved the thrill of danger.
And so did he. He'd just buried it deep.
She'd brought him face to face with a side of himself that he'd always kept under rigid control. A side that at eighteen had craved walking on the wild side. And that was why he'd had to leave.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I've accepted I need professional help." He shrugged. "I thought the shooting was maybe a one-off that they wanted to make a point. Scare me a little."
"And now?"
"Now I think they want me dead."
She raised a brow, opened her mouth, but at that moment the door opened and a waitress wheeled in a trolley with lunch. They were all quiet as she served them, filling glasses with white wine and placing plates of lobster-tail salad in front of each of them. He wasn't hungry and ignored the food, instead poured himself another glass of scotch. He sat back and sipped it, watching her.
The men all tucked into the food, but Jess picked up her fork and then placed it down again. "Why us?" she asked.
"Your company has an excellent reputation."
"So do a lot of companies."
"Okay, because I know you and trust you."
"Really?" She definitely sounded skeptical. Relaxing back, she rubbed a finger over her plump lower lip while she considered him.
She was wearing another black pantsuit that looked identical to yesterday's and a white shirt. Maybe she bought her clothes in bulk. Her jacket was buttoned up tight, but he could see the faint bulge of a shoulder holster beneath the material. She was armed and dangerous. His lips curled at the thought.
"Something funny?" she asked, her tone mild.
"Not at all. I was just wondering if you're always armed."
"Of course not. Just when I think a gun might come in handy."
The look she gave him made it clear just what use she would like to put the gun to.
"So you'll accept the job?" his dad asked, putting down his knife and fork and taking a sip of wine. The others hadn't touched theirs, but maybe they already considered themselves on duty.
He held his breath while he waited for her answer, though he knew it would be yes. However cool she was pretending to be, she wasn't immune to him. Yesterday, she'd come apart in his arms. He had a flashback to her, hot, wet, clenching around his dick, and twitched in his pants.
"Yes, providing your son agrees to follow our advice."
"Of course," he murmured. "Within reason."
"What would you consider unreasonable?"
"I refuse to hide away. I refuse to let these bastards dictate what I can and can't do. Where I go."
She pursed her lips. "Fair enough."
"Money is no object," his father put in.
"That's good to know. So," she said sounding brisk and businesslike, "I'll coordinate the job, but Dave and Steve will be responsible for the team and one of them will be on duty at all time. You haven't met Steve." She turned to the man at her side. He was tall, dark-haired, good-looking and she smiled at him, then rested a hand on his arm in a familiar way. Declan's gaze fixed on the gesture, his jaw tightening. Only the fact that the man's eyes widened a fraction saved him.
Jess was trying to wind him up. Trying to make him believe there was something more than a professional relationship between the two of them.
"I don't think so," he said. "I want you on the team. I want you protecting me."
"Why?"
"I told you, I trust you. But also there are situations where a male bodyguard might be inconvenient. I have some sensitive meetings coming up, business dinners. You'll be less confrontational."
Dave snorted in disbelief. Obviously, it wasn't only with him that she was hostile.
"Okay, appear less confrontational." For a minute, he thought she would argue, but then she gave an abrupt nod.
"Okay, you'll have to provide us with your schedule. Mark on it any situations where you think the guys will be too … confrontational and I'll see if I can fit them in."
"Good of you."
"Yes, it is." She rose to her feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me for a minute, I must go visit the ladies' room. Why don't you start working on that schedule with the guys?"
…
Jess took a deep breath. What she actually needed was some fresh air. Her skin was flushed and she felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She hurried from the room, ignoring the sensation of his eyes following her every move.
Ever since he'd entered the room, she'd had to fight back the memories of them together. His hard body pressing her back against the wall, his hard cock filling her. She hoped he wasn't going to have this effect on her all the time or it would make working with him a little …
She exhaled loudly as the door closed behind her. She suspected Declan was quite aware of the effect he had on her and was expecting a repeat performance. Maybe that was the real reason he had asked for her to be added to the bodyguard detail. What she needed to understand was why she had said yes.
Or was she deluding herself. Again. Would she take the first opportunity to shag him mindless? All in the name of putting the past behind her.
She headed across the main room and through a door into the corridor that held the ladies' room, but she walked straight past to a second door at the end of the hallway. As she pushed it open, a waft of cool air brushed over her cheeks. There was a hint of rain in the air, misting her skin. The door led into an alley that ran alongside the building and opened up thirty feet away onto the main street. Traffic rumbled in the distance as she let herself out. Leaning against the brick wall, she opened her jacket and ran a hand around the back of her neck. Her skin was clammy, and strands of her long ponytail clung to her neck. Maybe she should have it all cut off. In the army she'd kept it short but hadn't had it cut since, except when she attacked it with a pair of nail scissors if the split ends got too bad.