Rogue Devil (The Rourkes #11) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,75
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. All in all, I’m quite pleased. My assistant told me he’s a blackbelt and also enjoys boxing and weightlifting. Really working for him.
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.) This is great. 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 resumés. My only requirements were strong, competent, and not too old. Joe Sullivan looks mid-twenties. Perfect.
“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 open the refrigerator door, grab a bottled water, and hand it over 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, even though I’m running low on my contraband. This is an important occasion, my first bodyguard ever is going to risk life and limb to keep me safe. I really fought the idea of a guard for a long time, but when a man broke into my apartment two weeks ago—startling me from a sound sleep to ask me to whip him—that was the final straw. It’s one thing to be harassed on the street, a whole different thing to have a home invader. The even more disturbing part is that he managed to get past the lobby’s night watchman and knew how to disable my apartment’s security system.
The least I can do is share my secret stash with my new guard. We’re building a professional relationship here. That’s right. Keep it professional. Ignore his sexy scent, his stunning body, and beautiful eyes. I open the cabinet above the microwave, push aside the camouflaging red plastic cups, and retrieve a small Ziploc bag.
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 right now. It’s a big deal if I gain weight.” 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 very careful to make them last the entire show season, but he’s important, the key to me getting a sound sleep again.
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 tuck my stash back in its hiding place, shut the cabinet, and gesture toward my sofa. “Have a seat.”
He ambles over to the sofa with a relaxed stride. Wish I could be that relaxed. I’m usually a little high-strung before a taping, but this is also an unusual situation for me, working with my first bodyguard.
I take the seat