“What is it?” I murmur into her hair, and she shakes her head a little.
“Someone’s been in my room.” Her confession sobers me instantly, and I am full alert again. As much as I hate to step back and break the contact of our bodies, I do it to look into her still frightened eyes.
“I need to make sure they are gone. Will you wait in my room?”
She nods. “Yes,” she agrees, but then pauses. The fear I see fades a little and is replaced by something I can't read. Then, she touches my forearm, and the heat of her touch burns my bare skin. I grit my teeth to keep from reacting. “Thank you,” she adds. “But, please be careful.”
Nodding, I let her in. “Lock the door,” I say stepping into the hall.
“I will,” she promises closing the door. Once she is safe, I go to the door of her suite and silently turn the handle to slip into her room. The scent of her light perfume lingers, and I grit my teeth to ignore it. Being distracted now could be deadly. Using stealthy, yet quick movements, I check the suite’s living room. Nothing. Next, the large bedroom. Nothing. Only the master bath remains, and taking a slow breath to prepare for anything, I rush in, weapon raised. Again, nothing. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see something which makes my blood run cold. On the giant mirror, in what I am guessing is Lila's own lipstick is a message written in large capital letters.
HELLO LILA
7
Late to arrive, the birthday celebration is well underway, and I find the resort’s banquet room already filled with elegantly dressed people of all ages. My delay is caused by my long debrief on the phone with Zena. We discussed all the pros and cons of moving Lila to another location, but in the end, staying here seems the best option. The message was not a threat necessarily but definitely meant to upset her. The use of Lila, her billionaire’s club codename, made it clear the intruder knew she was part of the group. In my opinion, it had to be sent from Georgia DeLane. A bit overly dramatic, perhaps, but the words certainly got my attention. It left the question of moving Lila again or not. So far, aside from last night, the ski lodge proved safe.
In the end, Zena and I decided to try a new tactic. If the intruder is still on the premises, I can take the threat straight on by us remaining at the lodge. This plan not to move again will please Lila too. Her frustration of ‘being on the run’, as she refers to her situation, is growing old. Not to mention keeping her from being effective in her many enterprises. This decision also means I must stay even more vigilant in guarding Lila, which includes keeping very clear personal boundaries. I am a professional soldier in the royal guard. Keeping my attraction under control should not be difficult.
Of course, it doesn’t help that I am haunted by the lingering feel of Lila’s petite body pressed against mine last night. I wanted her, and the feeling has not diminished. In frustration and to clear my head before coming to this event, I made myself come in the shower to relieve the intensity of my desire. It didn’t help. As unbidden as the images were, as much as I tried to see Alma’s willing body in my mind, I only wanted Lila. The raw intensity of my desire for her after only just meeting yesterday continues to keep me off balance. Not that I haven’t found women immediately attractive before but never anything like this. If anyone ever revealed to me they felt something so profound, so quickly, I would shrug it off as impossibly romantic. Love, or at least lust, only hits like a thunderstrike in movies and romance novels. Or so I thought.
Taking a deep breath, I know now is not the time to ponder the impossible, and I scan the room for Lila. There are at least fifty people here, drinking champagne or stronger, chatting in small groups, with some dancing. The lights are low but accented with strings of white bulbs and candles on the tables. Not an ideal situation for keeping an eye out for trouble, but Lila insists her predicament not be disruptive to other guests. “I will not be a diva, end of the conversation,” she insisted, and I smile a little at the memory of the exchange. Lila gently but firmly let me know she would not budge—the hint of a stubborn streak. As sweet-natured as she is, a person does not become a billionaire aristocrat by being a push-over. Just another reason I find her attractive. Puffing out a breath of frustration at the reality there is nothing about her I don't find amazing, I scan the room. As soon as I spot her, I know I am in trouble.
Lila is stunning. Dressed in a sleek, smooth, black satin dress, which gives way to tiers of golden hues as it cascades down her body, I can't take my eyes off her. Her hair is pulled up, and a set of drop pearl earrings accent the contour of her elegant neck. Unconsciously licking my lips, I am captivated. Then, I realize she has been watching me standing in the doorway, and I feel the warmth of a blush on my cheeks. Her eyes twinkle, and clearly, she is happy I am there. I can’t help but wonder what she sees. The idea there is any mutual attraction is crazy, and yet, my instincts tell me there might be. This beautiful, worldly woman who could have anyone she wants, looking at me with a smile. A warmth spreads through my chest at the impossibility, and when she gives a subtle hook of a finger for me to approach, she stirs me on every level, which is the most frightening of all.
Crossing the room to meet me, she takes two glasses of champagne from the server’s tray as he passes. This is not good. Drinking anything could be a huge mistake. Aside from wanting to stay alert, I sometimes make crazy choices when I drink. “Hello,” Lila says as I near her, and she holds out the flute of bubbling liquid. I raise my hand to refuse, but then reconsider. I hate to make things awkward by saying no. Sharing a few ounces of alcohol with her will do no harm.
“Thank you,” I say as I take her offering. “But only one. I need to keep my wits about me.”
She raises an eyebrow and leans closer so as not to be overheard, even with the music playing. “You can’t stand there looking like a tiger guarding its lair. If you are not enjoying yourself, someone will notice.” She is right. My cover as her assistant is still in place. Even after talking to law enforcement, she and I held to that story of who I am. Keeping my training a secret could possibly be our ace in the hole with Georgia DeLane.
“If you insist, then I will enjoy myself,” I respond meaning to be playful, but somehow, with the closeness of her body to mine, they come out suggestive. A hint of a sultry look flickers in Lila’s eyes, and she lightly taps her glass to mine.
“To enjoying ourselves,” she murmurs just loud enough for me to hear before raising the glass to her red lips and taking a small sip. For a moment, I am mesmerized by her mouth. The desire to kiss her comes over me as I watch something so simple, yet so sexy. The thrum of electricity between us has not dissipated. Clearing my throat, I drag my eyes back to hers and politely drink as well, loving the tingle of the champagne on my tongue. Our eyes hold over the rims of our glasses, and any doubt there is an attraction between us fades. She feels what I feel; I have no doubt.
After a beat, she looks away as color flushes her cheeks, almost as if suddenly shy she made such a statement. Relieved she is no longer watching me for a moment, I breathe deeply to clear my head. I can’t act like this. My role is to protect her, nothing more. Thankfully, a couple joins us, friends of Lila's, and they strike up a conversation. I take the time to discreetly appraise the other attendees for anyone suspicious. Before I know it, the champagne in my glass is gone, and as I look for a place to set it down, the server is back, swapping it with me for another. “No,” I say. “Really—” but then he moves away, and I am left with more to drink. Fuck it. It's only champagne.