Grace’s mouth hung open. She struggled for words, but they simply wouldn’t come. The crinkles around Jared’s eyes deepened. He was laughing at her, on the inside, she would bet her life on it.
She turned to stare him straight in the face. “I guess I can tolerate a bodyguard for a while.” It took everything she had not to give any indication that she knew he was much more, or perhaps less, than a bodyguard of any kind.
What in the world was he up to? And how had he managed to do this? Her head was whirling again, but this time with an unabashed excitement, not fear. Jared hadn’t blown her cover. He’d kept her secret. What’s more—somehow, he had managed to find a way to see her again. Not just once, but an ongoing, 24/7 personal bodyguard.
This was like a very naughty fantasy come true.
Her nether parts were already heating up.
Unbelievable.
Her father clasped his hands together. “Wonderful.” Then he reached to hold her by the shoulders, something he never did. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had hugged her. She almost forgot to hug him back, and only barely managed it before he quickly released her.
“Thank you, Grace,” he said quietly. “It means a lot to me, your support in this. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”
Her father didn’t need her support, at least not emotionally. Or in any other way, really. Of course, she supported him tremendously in being his campaign manager, but that was just a given. Doing her job. Part of Senator Krepky’s vast empire that he used to effect his political goals. There were some privileges in being his daughter—she got a pass on things he’d fired mere employees for—but she knew the bodyguard just meant one less thing distracting him, so he could focus on the campaign. Which was fine.
Even better—her cataclysm had been averted for the moment.
Jared finally spoke up, extending his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Krepky.” The smiling lines had disappeared from his eyes. Now they were smoldering hot sexiness at her. Or maybe that was just her imagination, sparked by the heat of his hand on hers. It was like an electric shock had bridged the space between them and enlivened her entire body.
“Mr. Bachman.” She dipped her head and hoped the heat in her face wasn’t turning it beet red. Her father had already moved on to attend to some business on his phone.
“Please, call me Jared.” He was holding her gaze so intensely, her mouth went dry. They needed to be alone. To talk. Now.
“Well, Jared, I have a few things to do yet tonight. I suppose you will be accompanying me?”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I’ll try to be as unobtrusive as possible. And I’ll make every effort to respect your privacy, Ma’am.” He was telling her something—that he was still keeping her secret. Perhaps.
“If you call me Ma’am, you’ll just summon the gray hairs to my head at a faster clip. Please, call me Grace.” She was saying this primarily for her father’s benefit, but he wasn’t even listening. Grace stepped back and beckoned Jared with her head. To her father she said, “Great photo-op today, Senator. Tomorrow’s schedule is full as well.”
Her father made a noncommittal nod, waving her off as he attended to his phone.
She had been dismissed.
She gave a wide-eyed look of What the hell is going on? to Jared, then turned on her heel, expecting him to follow.
As she strode toward her bedroom, she licked her lips in anticipation. The other security guards generally stayed outside, toward the front—she knew this from the many times she’d slipped out to the forest when her wolf was raging under her skin, wanting to get out. But since Jared was her personal bodyguard, she figured that meant bringing him into her bedroom was entirely appropriate. Hot as sin, but completely excusable, if they were caught.
A tight, low, and giddy feeling danced in her stomach. Was this really happening? She didn’t look at him or say anything until they were alone with her door closed.
She whirled on him. “Oh. My. God. Do you want to explain this?”
He just stared at her for a moment, then said, “I made you a promise.”
What kind of explanation was that? She threw out her hands in exasperation. “My bodyguard? Seriously? Do I even want to know how you pulled that off?”
“Probably not.” The small lines were back around his eyes, but it wasn’t a true smile. He was like a wall—tall, dark, sexy, and… closed.
She couldn’t make sense of him at all. “Why are you here? Tell me the truth. And by the way, thanks for not spilling my secret. Then again, I guess I could’ve spilled yours as well.” His inscrutableness was making her testy. That, and the raw voltage sexual tension that had her ready to climb out of her skin. Or climb over his. Or something.