Who are you anyway?”
So Ms. Lindsey’s mother had made it through the stringent White House security screening—provided his crasher wasn’t a liar as well as sneaky. But Wade hadn’t met Daisy Lindsey. At least not if she’d passed on those eyes to her daughter.
He wouldn’t have forgotten those eyes.
Shaking off the unprofessional thoughts, he crossed his arms and gave Tara Lindsey a fierce glare. “Wade Cooper, Security Chief, and currently your biggest problem.”
She licked her lips.
Her lips could win as many prizes as her eyes. Bee-stung—but not in a weird, collagen-injected way—and painted a glossy pale pink.
“Look,” she said, “I’m not a regular crasher.”
Amused, he nodded. “No kidding?”
Heading inside the bar, two buxom blondes brushed past him, sending flirty glances his way.
He ignored them.
“Could we go somewhere more private and talk?” Tara asked.
“I’m a little busy just now, Ms. Lindsey. I’ve got some of the boys fitting uninvited guests for cement shoes, and I need to supervise. They tend to get a little carried away with the torturous confessions.”
She paled, and he regretted his empty threat. She certainly was a jumpy little thing.
He’d known from the moment he’d seen her lurking around the lobby what she was attempting to do, but he’d been curious enough, bored enough, to see how she’d go about it.
And he’d enjoyed watching her weave through the crowd, looking uninterested in everything but the buffet. Then, after tasting, looking disgusted.
He’d assumed she was simply hungry and not a fan after photos and autographs, but if she could afford to get to this exclusive island, she would hardly need to steal her meals.
When she glanced around at the glossy, laughing people around her and flushed, he found himself softening. “Stay here,” he said, pointing at the wooden deck where they stood.
After her nod, he walked inside the bar, gave the area a sweeping study, then stepped out again. To Tara, he gestured to the steps leading to the beach. “After you.”
They walked a few yards in the cool, soft sand until they stood next to the volleyball court set up behind the hotel. Palms swayed in the breeze, and the blue-green water had turned nearly black with only the moon as a spotlight.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re busy,” she said, tilting her head back and meeting his gaze. “How tall are you?”
“Six-four.”
“You seem bigger.”
“Only because you’re small.”
“I’m not small. Five-nine with the shoes.” Along with a bright yellow top and skirt, she wore gold high-heeled sandals, which she reached down and removed. “Sorry, my feet are killing me. I need my Nike runners.”
When she’d straightened once again, she licked her lips, and he bit back a groan. This job had been ridiculously easy so far. He supposed it was time for a challenge. It seemed remembering his duty was tossing the alluring Ms. Lindsey out on her backside would be the one.
“I guess it wasn’t hard to see I didn’t belong at the party,” she continued. “I really stand out as the plain Jane in this crowd of stars.”
Personally, he didn’t think she needed all the glitz and sequins to be beautiful. She simply was. “My targeting you had nothing to do with the way you look.”
She cocked her head. “So what’d I do wrong?”
He simply shook his head.
“Fine, fine. Trade secret, huh?” She lifted one side of her mouth in a tempting smile. “I have a killer recipe for coconut cupcakes I could share in exchange.”
“Make the cupcakes, then we’ll see.”
The grin widened. “Deal.”
The smile had Wade clinging to his professionalism by a thread—a state he’d never found himself in. He’d lived his job for a long time and had a hard time with relationships. Women wanted closeness and sharing. He didn’t get close or share.
“Before you officially toss me out, you should know I have a good reason for being here.”
Wade
So Ms. Lindsey’s mother had made it through the stringent White House security screening—provided his crasher wasn’t a liar as well as sneaky. But Wade hadn’t met Daisy Lindsey. At least not if she’d passed on those eyes to her daughter.
He wouldn’t have forgotten those eyes.
Shaking off the unprofessional thoughts, he crossed his arms and gave Tara Lindsey a fierce glare. “Wade Cooper, Security Chief, and currently your biggest problem.”
She licked her lips.
Her lips could win as many prizes as her eyes. Bee-stung—but not in a weird, collagen-injected way—and painted a glossy pale pink.
“Look,” she said, “I’m not a regular crasher.”
Amused, he nodded. “No kidding?”
Heading inside the bar, two buxom blondes brushed past him, sending flirty glances his way.
He ignored them.
“Could we go somewhere more private and talk?” Tara asked.
“I’m a little busy just now, Ms. Lindsey. I’ve got some of the boys fitting uninvited guests for cement shoes, and I need to supervise. They tend to get a little carried away with the torturous confessions.”
She paled, and he regretted his empty threat. She certainly was a jumpy little thing.
He’d known from the moment he’d seen her lurking around the lobby what she was attempting to do, but he’d been curious enough, bored enough, to see how she’d go about it.
And he’d enjoyed watching her weave through the crowd, looking uninterested in everything but the buffet. Then, after tasting, looking disgusted.
He’d assumed she was simply hungry and not a fan after photos and autographs, but if she could afford to get to this exclusive island, she would hardly need to steal her meals.
When she glanced around at the glossy, laughing people around her and flushed, he found himself softening. “Stay here,” he said, pointing at the wooden deck where they stood.
After her nod, he walked inside the bar, gave the area a sweeping study, then stepped out again. To Tara, he gestured to the steps leading to the beach. “After you.”
They walked a few yards in the cool, soft sand until they stood next to the volleyball court set up behind the hotel. Palms swayed in the breeze, and the blue-green water had turned nearly black with only the moon as a spotlight.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re busy,” she said, tilting her head back and meeting his gaze. “How tall are you?”
“Six-four.”
“You seem bigger.”
“Only because you’re small.”
“I’m not small. Five-nine with the shoes.” Along with a bright yellow top and skirt, she wore gold high-heeled sandals, which she reached down and removed. “Sorry, my feet are killing me. I need my Nike runners.”
When she’d straightened once again, she licked her lips, and he bit back a groan. This job had been ridiculously easy so far. He supposed it was time for a challenge. It seemed remembering his duty was tossing the alluring Ms. Lindsey out on her backside would be the one.
“I guess it wasn’t hard to see I didn’t belong at the party,” she continued. “I really stand out as the plain Jane in this crowd of stars.”
Personally, he didn’t think she needed all the glitz and sequins to be beautiful. She simply was. “My targeting you had nothing to do with the way you look.”
She cocked her head. “So what’d I do wrong?”
He simply shook his head.
“Fine, fine. Trade secret, huh?” She lifted one side of her mouth in a tempting smile. “I have a killer recipe for coconut cupcakes I could share in exchange.”
“Make the cupcakes, then we’ll see.”
The grin widened. “Deal.”
The smile had Wade clinging to his professionalism by a thread—a state he’d never found himself in. He’d lived his job for a long time and had a hard time with relationships. Women wanted closeness and sharing. He didn’t get close or share.
“Before you officially toss me out, you should know I have a good reason for being here.”
Wade
Similar Books
