Page 27 of In Bed with Her Billionaire Bodyguard

He wondered where his mother was right now. What she would do if she were here. She’d have been on the other side of that rope, naturally. And if she’d seen that he was here? She wouldn’t have spared him a glance as she left, unwilling to risk being in the same space as the biological son she had made sign a non-disclosure agreement at the age of eighteen about their relationship. In exchange for a small inheritance, of course. She was, after all, his mother.

He willed the tension headache back from where it began to press against his temples. Hope, his mother, the press, his childhood. This was why he didn’t take the lead on public image clients any more.

Hope’s laughter cut through the sounds of the bar as if he’d tuned into her very essence, his awareness of her beyond professional. He clenched his teeth as he saw someone jostle her and, for the first time ever, was furious that he’d been relegated to the shadows. And while he knew that it protected them both, it grated that he was so far from his charge.

A man leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Hope smiled up at him, and he saw the gesture catch the interest of one of the paparazzi in the club. Hope cocked her head to one side, the man shifting slightly so that Luca caught a head-to-toe glimpse of her and clenched his jaw until his teeth ached.

The ruched midnight-blue satin dress which stopped at a heart-attack-inducing level on her toned thighs was enough to make a grown man weep. Although the silky material cowled around a high neck, the back was where things got dangerous. The high neck was a collar, the sleeves closing beneath the arm to keep the entirety of her back bare, announcing to the world she was braless.

From the mutinous look she’d thrown him as she’d reached for her jacket before leaving the chalet earlier that evening, he’d half believed she’d done it on purpose. Just to rile him. He hid the bitter direction of his thoughts by taking a sip of the soda that would have passed as vodka to anyone other than the barman he’d paid handsomely to ensure that Hope’s drinks were un-doctored and his were non-alcoholic.

The man Hope was talking to ran a hand boldly up and down her bare arm and when she reached for him, leaning in perilously close, Luca wanted to turn away. But, grim-faced and focused, he was here to do a job, and he’d do it. So he watched from the shadows as the man pulled Hope to the dance area of the VIP section, the press in the club dropping all pretence now and simply snapping away on whatever format they could get their picture of Hope Harcourt.

As the man pulled Hope against her and Luca clenched his fists, as she let him nuzzle her neck while his hands anchored on her hips, he saw one photographer laugh, the glint of a gold tooth catching his eye and turning his stomach. Feral. Luca felt feral.

Hope spun in the man’s arms, a smile across her face and, taking one of his hands, and after throwing a flirtatious wave goodbye to Angelique, she led him away from the dance floor. The man practically covered Hope with his body, blocking her from Luca’s sight, and Luca stalked across the lower level, keeping them locked in his sights.

Another of the paps was already checking the pictures he’d got, a satisfied smirk pasted on his features as he probably imagined the amount of money he’d get for that shot.

Luca watched Hope open a discreet door to the back of the VIP section and disappear through it. He waited a minute, popping his jaw with a click, and left the bar.

The moment Hope got through the door to the private floors of Meister, renowned as a hook-up place for those who wanted quick, easy and discreet, she leant back against the wall, looked at Marco, the guy she’d danced with, and they both started laughing.

‘Think they bought it?’ Marco asked.

‘Hook, line and sinker,’ Hope said, returning his smile.

‘Pleasure doing business with you,’ replied the actor, presently trying to keep his sexuality a secret, long enough for his long-term boyfriend to prepare for the media storm that would hit the moment they went public. And theywouldgo public, Hope realised, having seen the genuine love and connection the two men shared.

Envy. That was what she felt, she realised as Marco waved his goodbye and disappeared off into the car waiting for him in the underground parking garage beneath the club. But now wasn’t the time for romantic hopes and dreams. Now was the time for business.

Hope made her way towards the upper floor, where a series of rooms were set out for whatever the club’s clients had in mind. Meister was a sister club to the famous private members London-based club Victoriana and had been the absolutely perfect place to secretly meet with Sofia Obeid.

Hope knew the lighting was kept purposely low to ensure anyone crossing paths in the hallway would be hardly recognisable, but in the shadows she saw Luca downstairs, glaring at her. The dark promise in his gaze, desire wrapped in jealous wrapped in denial, ignited something in her. Something hot and needy. Something that had no place here, especially when she was on the brink of making a deal that would secure Harcourts’ future for averylong time.

She reached the door of the room that she had booked for the night and knocked, aware that Sofia had arrived before Hope had left the VIP section.

‘Come in,’ called the voice from within.

Hope opened the door and walked in with a practised smile. She ignored the fact that she was dressed for a night of sin, in stark contrast with the sleek trouser suit worn by the other woman.

Sofia Obeid was tall and every bit as graceful as she was elegant. Hope had done her research in the two days between the opera and when she’d made her approach through a mutual friend.

‘Ms Obeid, I’m sorry for the cloak-and-dagger. I know it may seem ridiculous.’

Sofia waved aside the suggestion. ‘Actually, not at all. I understand what it is like to work against family. It’s not pretty and we do what we must.’

Hope nodded, noting the genuine response from the astute businesswoman. It spoke of secrets and hurts and a shared understanding forming between the two.

‘Please.’ Hope gestured to the seats. ‘Your time is valuable and I don’t want to waste it.’

‘I appreciate that, thank you. I’m glad that I was in London when you reached out.’

‘Rossi Industries?’ Hope asked, knowing of the work Sofia had done with the property development tycoons, Alessandro and Gianni Rossi.

‘Yes, the Aurora project is going well,’ Sofia said with pride and excitement. ‘But I must admit I’m curious as to what you might have in mind. Harcourts department stores are a global brand with instant recognition. But what that has to do with my area, I’m not yet sure.’

And Hope could understand. It wasn’t immediately clear why she would reach out to a woman who owned a global chain of high-end hotels as well as numerous building development holdings.

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