Page 34 of South Beach Bodyguards

I didn’t want to move. Ever. This was all I had wanted- me laying on top of the hard shelf of Ryan’s chest, feeling small and sexy and desired. His eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, but there was a set to his jaw and a tightness to his voice that told me he was as crazy turned on as I was. Not to mention that there was a hell of an erection pressed against me.

When I ignored his command, he gave me a light slap on my ass. “Isabel, move.”

There was an edge to his voice that was highly satisfying. I smiled down at him. “Give me a second.” Then I wiggled a little, wanting to settle in more closely on all his hard muscles.

Ryan made a sound in the back of his throat and before I could even react, he spilled me off of his chest and down onto the sand next to him. “You’re really asking for it.”

“I know.” I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. I loved being near Ryan. I liked his company, I liked his respectfulness, I liked his body. He was everything I wanted and I knew without a doubt that in a day or two when he insisted we couldn’t see each other again, which he would, I would cry. That even knowing what I knew, I would still cry. But that wasn’t going to stop me from enjoying the here and now.

I should fall and hit my head more often if this was the end result.

Ryan made lots of grumbling sounds and did a whole bunch of head shaking, like he was annoyed, but I knew he wasn’t. He packed up our stuff quickly, while I was still pulling my shorts on over my bathing suit. “We never even went in the water. I thought you wanted to go swimming.”

“I have other needs that are more urgent.”

Yum. I could see the outline of his erection through his swim trunks. I was about to make a joke, but he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead to rub at the corner of his eye. What I saw in his expression made my breath catch and I had to look away. He was so earnest, so serious. An ache gripped my chest and I felt things I had no business feeling.

Cramming my feet into my flip flops I looked away. Those hazel eyes held mysteries I didn’t think I could solve. What did Ryan want from life? What did he crave? I didn’t know. I only knew that he lived a ridiculously sparse lifestyle for someone whose father was wealthy, and that he was never without his gun. I wondered what he really thought about his mother and if he missed her.

I wondered if he knew that I was about a hair-breadth away from falling in love with him. I wanted to shower him with all the affection and love he had never gotten.

But he didn’t want it. Not from me. Probably not from anyone.

Enjoy the moment. That was it. Nothing more.

When we valet parked at the Fountainbleau I tried not to feel like a little kid arriving at Disney World for the first time. But I couldn’t prevent a “holy crap” from slipping out as we took in the overblown grandeur of the hotel.

“This is no joke,” Ryan commented. We had gone back to his apartment and I had put on a sundress, him a pair of long pants and a black shirt. He looked even more gangster than usual.

It also seemed incredibly obvious to me that he had a gun in his waistband, but he assured me it was totally legal. I wasn’t sure that made it safe, but I knew there was no arguing with him. I reached for his hand instinctively, because I wanted reassurance. I had a backpack as my overnight bag and it felt ridiculously out of place among the designer luggage sets being tended by the bellmen. The doors opened for us and the lobby was a swath of white marble with black accents that I knew were a nod to the original bowtie architecture of the hotel, before the renovations of the past decade or so. I was also too awestruck to remark on it to Ryan.

He gave my hand a squeeze, but then let it go. He put his hand on the small of my back to encourage me forward. I moved tentatively but he strolled with confidence. Glancing up I was surprised at how at ease he looked. Maybe it was his line of work. He had to blend, to fit in, to look intimidating. He did. People noticed him and they averted their eyes immediately, like they didn’t want trouble. It was a good talent to have, scaring people. I couldn’t scare a kitten.

At school, on my turf, I had felt incredibly self-conscious of Ryan’s stolid appearance and need to protect me, but here I was grateful for it. This was more his arena than mine. I wasn’t living anything other than an extremely ordinary life. I stood at the front desk and let Ryan handle checking in. There was a lump in my throat and I seemed to have lost my voice. This had turned into an event. It was like a wedding night, minus the wedding. My palms were sweating and I was equal parts excited and nervous.

“Enjoy your stay,” the suave desk clerk said, his voice somehow deferential and pretentious all at once.

“Thank you,” I managed.

“Let us know if there is anything we can do for you. We can secure dinner reservations for you, or a taxi.”

“All we need is the pool and a bed,” Ryan told him.

That about summed it up.

I smiled back when the guy smiled at me. But then I wondered what he thought when he saw us together. That I was a wealthy heiress who had hired a gigolo? Or a bodyguard? That had to be a movie plot.

“What are you thinking?” Ryan asked as he led me to the elevators, an amused look on his face. “You always get this expression that unnerves me, because it is clear you have more running through your brain in sixty seconds than I do in an entire day.”

“I doubt that. I was just thinking that the desk clerk probably thinks I hired you.”

Ryan stopped walking. “Hired me to do what?”

He looked so shocked I laughed. “To be my bodyguard.”

“Oh. Do I look like a bodyguard?”

“You know you do.”

---