over.” The corner of her mouth quirked up in what was almost a smile.
“Exactly.” He grinned.
She was loosening up a little if she was joking around with him. That was both good and bad. He didn’t need her letting her guard down and getting too complacent, but damn it would be nice if she wasn’t going to act like a witch the whole time they’d be cloistered away with only each other for company.
“Fine. But can I go to the bathroom before we start our charade?”
“Sure.” As he watched her push through the restroom door, he couldn’t help but notice how she filled out his sister’s white pants damn nicely.
That was a disturbing thought on so many levels.
He let out a sigh. If circumstances were different, if this wasn’t a job and there wasn’t a maniac wielding a sniper rifle after her, he might really enjoy being trapped alone on an island with Sierra Cox.
Running in the waves. Watching the saltwater bead off her skin. Peeling off her wet bikini.
Damn. That would be one hell of a good time—
The door swung wide again and she pranced out, making a beeline for the nearest food stand. She stopped and turned, planting one hand on her hip. “Why are you just standing there? Come on. I’m thirsty. I should probably eat too because God only knows what you’ll feed me when we get to this shack you rented.”
Or maybe not.
CHAPTER 15
Shack was an apt description for the A-line building Sierra currently stood in front of. The one Rick had generously referred to as a beach cottage.
Behind her, Rick sighed deeply. “What? Not good enough for you, princess?”
“I asked you to stop calling me that.”
“And I told you I would, as soon as you stopped acting like one. What’s wrong with the house?”
“It’s . . .” So many adjectives careened through her head it was hard to choose just one.
“Not a mansion? Doesn’t have gold plated doorknobs? What?”
She cocked up one brow. “Don’t you take an attitude with me.”
“No attitude here. I’m just the one trying to keep you alive . . .” He carried in a big canvas duffle bag that looked packed full and heavy.
A bag that big should have wheels. Anyone who traveled as much as she did knew that. Rick’s bag didn’t have wheels, proving he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed even if he did like to pretend he read Sun Tzu.
He dropped the bag on the doorstep and stooped to lift the mat. Emerging with a key, he proceeded to unlock the front door.
“You’re kidding me, right? This is your secure hide out? With the front door key under the mat?”
“It will be secure enough once I’m in there.” He tipped his head toward the building. “Come on. I can’t sweep the house and keep an eye on you out in the front yard at the same time.”
Scowling, she begrudgingly followed him through the doorway.
He dumped the bag on the floor and closed the door behind her. “Stay right here. Don’t move until I say.”
Sierra rolled her eyes. “You should have just brought a guard dog with you.”
“If one had been available on short notice, I would have. A bomb sniffing dog would have been even better.”
Bomb? He was worried about someone trying to blow her up?
She was still having trouble believing the threat was really as bad as he said.
Having an obsessed fan who pushed the line of what was appropriate with a video camera she could believe. But having one who wanted her dead? That she couldn’t wrap her head around.
Rick kneeled on the floor and opened the duffle. Finally, Sierra got a look at what was making it so heavy. It looked as if he’d raided a gun store. Who knows? Maybe he had. She wouldn’t be surprised by anything this man did anymore.
He slipped a holster over his arms and shoved a pistol into it. He’d apparently upgraded from just the leg holster.
Next he pulled out the device his friends had brought to her hotel room that morning.
God, had it really been only that morning they’d discovered the
“Exactly.” He grinned.
She was loosening up a little if she was joking around with him. That was both good and bad. He didn’t need her letting her guard down and getting too complacent, but damn it would be nice if she wasn’t going to act like a witch the whole time they’d be cloistered away with only each other for company.
“Fine. But can I go to the bathroom before we start our charade?”
“Sure.” As he watched her push through the restroom door, he couldn’t help but notice how she filled out his sister’s white pants damn nicely.
That was a disturbing thought on so many levels.
He let out a sigh. If circumstances were different, if this wasn’t a job and there wasn’t a maniac wielding a sniper rifle after her, he might really enjoy being trapped alone on an island with Sierra Cox.
Running in the waves. Watching the saltwater bead off her skin. Peeling off her wet bikini.
Damn. That would be one hell of a good time—
The door swung wide again and she pranced out, making a beeline for the nearest food stand. She stopped and turned, planting one hand on her hip. “Why are you just standing there? Come on. I’m thirsty. I should probably eat too because God only knows what you’ll feed me when we get to this shack you rented.”
Or maybe not.
CHAPTER 15
Shack was an apt description for the A-line building Sierra currently stood in front of. The one Rick had generously referred to as a beach cottage.
Behind her, Rick sighed deeply. “What? Not good enough for you, princess?”
“I asked you to stop calling me that.”
“And I told you I would, as soon as you stopped acting like one. What’s wrong with the house?”
“It’s . . .” So many adjectives careened through her head it was hard to choose just one.
“Not a mansion? Doesn’t have gold plated doorknobs? What?”
She cocked up one brow. “Don’t you take an attitude with me.”
“No attitude here. I’m just the one trying to keep you alive . . .” He carried in a big canvas duffle bag that looked packed full and heavy.
A bag that big should have wheels. Anyone who traveled as much as she did knew that. Rick’s bag didn’t have wheels, proving he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed even if he did like to pretend he read Sun Tzu.
He dropped the bag on the doorstep and stooped to lift the mat. Emerging with a key, he proceeded to unlock the front door.
“You’re kidding me, right? This is your secure hide out? With the front door key under the mat?”
“It will be secure enough once I’m in there.” He tipped his head toward the building. “Come on. I can’t sweep the house and keep an eye on you out in the front yard at the same time.”
Scowling, she begrudgingly followed him through the doorway.
He dumped the bag on the floor and closed the door behind her. “Stay right here. Don’t move until I say.”
Sierra rolled her eyes. “You should have just brought a guard dog with you.”
“If one had been available on short notice, I would have. A bomb sniffing dog would have been even better.”
Bomb? He was worried about someone trying to blow her up?
She was still having trouble believing the threat was really as bad as he said.
Having an obsessed fan who pushed the line of what was appropriate with a video camera she could believe. But having one who wanted her dead? That she couldn’t wrap her head around.
Rick kneeled on the floor and opened the duffle. Finally, Sierra got a look at what was making it so heavy. It looked as if he’d raided a gun store. Who knows? Maybe he had. She wouldn’t be surprised by anything this man did anymore.
He slipped a holster over his arms and shoved a pistol into it. He’d apparently upgraded from just the leg holster.
Next he pulled out the device his friends had brought to her hotel room that morning.
God, had it really been only that morning they’d discovered the
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