Captured by the Bodyguard(2)
***
Cane couldn’t blame her for wanting to send him back. Hell, he didn’t want this job either. Chaperoning or babysitting – whatever he was supposed to do on this assignment, he wanted out. Now.
For one thing, he’d thought he’d be handling some billionaire business man’s wife. Instead, he’d been assigned to Alexandra Duke, the daughter. Who looked every inch a bodyguard’s nightmare: the spoiled, daddy-wrapped-around-her-finger type.
Oh, and one other thing. She was going to be one hell of a damn distraction.
Alexandra Duke was a classical beauty, with a heart-shaped face, pretty nose and big, melting brown eyes. And lips so puffy and soft-looking a man started to ache in places just looking at them. Her skin was a toasty caramel, and smooth – free of make-up except for the tint of bubble-gum pink lip gloss on those man-killer lips. She was tall, well above five feet but still not reaching his shoulder even in her heeled sandals. Her long hair was straightened and done up in an elegant topknot which was in contrast with her casual attire of snug blue jeans and a white t-shirt. The kind of body she had in those clothes, Cane noted, would make a porn star envious.
A tiny waist set off her generously rounded breasts straining against her shirt, and then her hips seemed to explode, in a nice way that put a whole new spin on the Coke bottle shape. Long, shapely legs ended in a pair of high-heeled brown sandals that showed off her pretty feet with the powder blue nail polish.
It had taken Cane all of five seconds to take all this in, his expression schooled into a polite, calm mask. She took far more time in looking him over, a fact that unlike him, she made no pretence of hiding. He took her scrutiny in his stride, finally holding out his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Duke,” he said, opting for friendly with just the right hint of formality. He had to make an effort, he knew. Noah, his best friend who owned the protective services firm was well known and respected. Cane wasn’t about to do anything that would jeopardize that reputation. He might not like the situation he’d been placed in, but he was going to make the best of it till a solution could be found.
Alexandra Duke ignored his outstretched hand. Her beautiful deep brown eyes swept over him once again. “You don’t look like a bodyguard.”
Her factual words made his lips tilt in a tiny smile. “Let me guess; you’ve got this image of someone huge and towering like in the movies? Guys who look like they’d just fallen out of a bean stalk?” He huffed, adding mildly, “Those are the type of guys that in my trade, we call crowd controllers. It would take seconds for a man with my training to bring a guy like that down. The bigger you are, the slower your reflexes.”
She turned away to admire a colorfully arranged bouquet of fresh flowers making the centerpiece on the nearby ornate table. Cane took this chance to examine her in more detail.
He was still trying to figure out why Noah had set him down for this job. With his expertise and field experience, Cane was used to getting hired for high-risk clients. Those who were under some kind of major hazard, such as kidnapping, stalking, death threats, or if they had to visit a dangerous location. Cane’s services didn’t come cheap, so how come he was getting paid a truckload of money just to babysit some billionaire’s princess?
“I don’t want a bodyguard. I’m pretty certain I don’t need one,” Alexandra Duke told him in that same factual tone. Cane found that he liked hearing her talk. She sounded sexy even without knowing it; cultured with a musical intonation that stirred him in the gut. Was there nothing about this woman he didn’t find outrageously attractive? Even her irritated expression intrigued him, made him want to smudge the tiny frown away from her beautiful forehead gently with his thumb.
“You’ll just be in the way,” she added with an angry sigh. “I’m a very social person. My lifestyle demands it and I generally just am. I have school, friends. The one thing that would ruin my perfect existence would be knowing there was some handler watching my every move. Breathing down my neck.”
“Keeping you safe,” Cane added sensibly, keeping his tone neutral. He was a professional; it would take more than an impolite young lady to get on his wick. He was pissed off but mostly not at her, but at the guy who’d fixed him up in this.
“I’ve taken care of myself for the past three years living on my own. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Which is great, because I’m your bodyguard, not your babysitter. And I wouldn’t be here if your father didn’t think it was absolutely necessary,” said Cane, reining in his temper.