Page 18 of Not the Bodyguard's Princess
Miss Lee studied the tree line. “Thanks for doing your job.” A small smile lit her face, and she walked back into the suite, Princess following her.
Maybe she was more aware of her safety than he thought. Miss Lee wasn’t the first actor Hastings had worked for who’d been hard to read. Alex would be better suited to this client, but with his new bride and baby, he wouldn’t take the job. Andrew couldn’t walk away.
“Where’s the leash?”
“I know I set it—” Miss Lee turned in a slow circle.
Andrew spotted it under the coffee table. Princess jumped, her excited dancing momentarily blocking his view as he reached for it, connecting with Jordan’s hand instead of the leash.
Jordan’s wide eyes met his over the coffee table. Andrew let go of her hand but not the sensation left by the touch.
Jordan set the leash on the table, her face a shade pinker. Andrew studied the hand he’d just held. Her fingers were long and slender, something he’d noted as she signed, but his awareness had nothing to do with the shape of her hand. It was the way her hand fit in his. Jordan’s eyes were still on him, her mouth a silent O. Princess looked from her master to Andrew before leaping to Jordan’s side.
No way. This was not happening. Attraction to the client was a huge no-go area for him. His reaction to touching her must have been a fluke—it was just surprise at finding her hand and not the cold plastic of the leash handle.
Someone tapped on the door, and Andrew snapped the leash onto Princess’s collar. “Do you want her back tonight?”
Jordan blinked twice before answering. “Um, no. I think I need sleep, and in a new place, she gets up in the night. Then I have to wake up half the building because I can’t take her outside myself.”
Again, Miss Lee was showing a sense of self-preservation. Andrew took the end of Princess’s leash. “Good night, then.”
Miss Lee opened the door to let him out. Stu stood there with his fist up, preparing to knock. “You didn’t need to take so long.”
“Sorry, Stu, it was my fault. I misplaced the leash. Good night, Princess. Be a good girl.” She looked at Andrew, her face unreadable.
Andrew nodded and turned, but not before he caught a flash of something that looked like an ILY sign. Was that for him or the dog? He should quit before he became a victim of the family curse. If only he could be sure she would be safe.
8
The themefrom a fifty’s musical woke Jordan at 5:00 a.m. She rubbed her eyes before answering. “Good morning, Grandma.”
“It sounds like I woke you up. Did I do my math wrong?”
“I don’t know. Did you intend to wake me up at 5:00 a.m. on Monday?”
“Good thing you are aren’t in LA, then. Sorry, bunny. I wanted to talk with you after yesterday’s texts and phone messages. How are you?”
“I’m fine. The bodyguard I hired for Princess is taking good care of me. From the look on his face last night when I chose to listen to Stu over him, I thought he might quit, but maybe not. I don’t know how to explain all the politics behind everything and I am afraid that Paul will refuse me even one bodyguard. Mr. Andrew is harder to read than Blake.” Which was wonderful and scary but in a different way.
“I spoke with Blake yesterday. He seemed to think this Hastings kid—his words not mine—would do a very good job. Blake was initially concerned about his age but hopes it won’t be an issue.”
“Andrew is very competent.” As soon as she said his name she knew she slipped.
“First-name basis?”
“There are five brothers and a father, all Mr. Hastings. Andrew normally goes by Mr. Andrew. September Platt never usesmister, so I guess I think of him by his first name.”
“Oh.” A long pause filled the space, and Jordan checked the connection.
Grandma’s voice came back on. “Blake said Andrew is good-looking.”
Had Blake noticed her attraction to the youngest Hasting? She had been on painkillers, and Blake needed to be. It was just a fluke. Like the leash. “He has some nice features.”
“Is this going to be a problem?”
“You mean the knight-in-shining-armor thing? Falling for my rescuer? Not particularly, since I’m not falling for him.” Leaning a slight bit, but not falling.
“Jordan, you know what I mean. It’s like what happened with that leading man—your first semi-real kiss. Knowing it could happen and it would be fake didn’t stop a crush from happening.” Again with her first leading-man crush a decade ago. Yes, she thought she’d fallen for him and even dated him for a while, but he’d wanted to be seen with her more than be with her. Jordan had learned her lesson. Grandma didn’t need to bring it up again.
