Rogue Beast (The Rourkes #12) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,1
brown wig as Amanda because it was too much work for the show’s hairstylist to straighten my curly hair, and it caused too much damage to it in the process anyway. I was on the show for three years, so I appreciate my stylist having the foresight to save my hair. Apparently, shoulder-length curls don’t say tough CEO.
My new guard takes the two steps into my trailer, and the space suddenly shrinks with his large presence. He checks out my trailer while I check out him. He’s exactly what I need to scare off creeper men. His neck is thick and corded, his shoulders wide, and his biceps are so large his arms don’t lie flat at his sides. His thighs look solid and strong, long legs leading to black work boots. Probably steel-toed for maximum fighting power. Perfection.
He rubs his hands together. “So…nice to meet ya. I caught Capital Asset a few times.” That’s my former show. Amanda Boxer was a ruthless hedge fund CEO.
My lips curve up in approval. Not because he watched my show. It’s his rough-sounding Brooklyn accent. (I know accents well, part of my training.) I couldn’t have asked for a better fit for this gig. When those local creepers come at me, they’ll have to deal with one of their own.
Suddenly I realize I’m being rude, checking him out for my own needs. Obviously he’s already been vetted by my assistant, who went through all the résumés. My only requirements were strong, competent, and not too old.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, gesturing toward my mini-fridge. “I have bottled water and diet iced tea.”
“Sure, I’ll take a water.”
I brush by him on the way to the mini-fridge, catching the scent of a sexy, musky cologne. Must be professional. I get the bottled water and hand it to him, careful to keep from touching him in the exchange.
“Thanks,” he says, unscrewing the cap with a quick movement. Strong, so strong with those large hands. He lifts his brows, eying me as he guzzles water. I might be staring.
I look away. We’re going to be working closely together, so I shouldn’t hold back on the hospitality. This is an important occasion. My first bodyguard ever is going to risk life and limb to keep me safe. The least I can do is share my secret stash. Not my drinks, the good stuff. We’re building a professional relationship here.
That’s right. Ignore his sexy scent, his stunning body, and beautiful eyes. I open the cabinet above the microwave, carefully push aside the camouflaging red plastic cups on the top shelf, and retrieve a small Ziploc bag. The shelf wobbles. I should call maintenance about that.
I open the bag, telling him, “I’m not supposed to have this. My wardrobe is set with a lot of designer stuff for my exact size. It’s a big deal if something doesn’t fit.” I lift my gaze to his, getting a jolt when our eyes meet. “Would you like one?” I have three individually wrapped squares of dark chocolate with cherry. I’m normally careful to make them last the entire show season, but he’s more important than my love of chocolate.
Joe shakes his head. “Real nice of ya to offer, but it’s not in my diet either. I try to eat clean.”
“Of course, completely understand.” I quickly put the chocolate back in the bag, even though it smells so luscious all I want to do is stuff it in my mouth. It’s near dinner, but I can’t eat until the taping is over. Otherwise, I’ll get sluggish, and my performance will show it. I shove it back on the shelf so quickly I accidentally tip the shelf, and red plastic cups tumble out. “Oops! Wobbly shelf.”
“I could fix it.”
My eyes widen. “Oh. Do you have the right tools?” Maybe he has one of those Swiss Army knives that morphs into a dozen useful gadgets.
One corner of his mouth lifts as he leans close to inspect the shelf. My breath catches at his proximity. Ridiculous. I need to chill. As soon as he shifts to the empty cabinet next to my stash cabinet, I retrieve the Ziploc bag and all of the cups so he can work his magic.
He reaches in and does something to the other cabinet shelf and then with another quick movement fixes my wobbly shelf. He turns to me. “I borrowed a couple of bracket pegs from the other cabinet, since you weren’t using it. I’ll get you