The Alpha Bodyguards Books #1-3

Chapter Eight

S he hung up and handed my phone back to me with a muttered, “Thanks.”

Tipping my chin once, I forced myself to look away from her and the change in her body language as I started the Escalade and checked the rearview mirrors. The last thing I wanted to deal with right now was the fucking paparazzi.

I backed out of the parking space.

She crossed her arms. “You’re not saying anything.”

I spun the SUV around and headed up the exit ramp. “What did you want me to say?” The anger and determination in her expression before the call to her lawyer had morphed into something I couldn’t decipher.

“You’re not working for Jerry anymore.”

I never worked for that prick. I worked for Luna first, myself second. Everything after that was fucking relative. “Your point?” I checked the street for any asshole with a camera before I pulled out.

“Do you have a problem working for me?”

Besides the fact she was up to something and I’d bet my fucking Harley it was trouble? “Said I didn’t.”

She stared straight ahead for a moment. “You’re attracted to me.”

Bold as fuck, I’d give her that. “What gave you that impression?” I asked only to fuck with her.

Dropping her guarded expression, she turned halfway in her seat. “Oh, come on. Mr. Kinky Dominant Handcuff, now you’re going to pretend to be professional?”

I turned down the street the Luna and Associates offices were on. “ Never claimed I was professional.” I glanced at her. “But I’m good at what I do.” There was a difference.

She did the half snort, half smirk thing. “He says humbly.”

I drove into the underground parking at Luna and Associates and pulled into a spot. Keeping the engine running, I turned to her and gave her the fucking truth of the matter. “There’s a reason it’s called close protection. If I was your detail last night, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Castigate my methods all you want, but the simple truth is you wouldn’t have been out of my sight for two fucking seconds.” Not at the club and not in public anywhere.

“What, you would’ve danced with me at the club?” she asked, incredulous.

I stared at her. Hard. “You wouldn’t have needed to go to the club.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her tone was all attitude, but she’d leaned back in her seat as she asked the question, putting more distance between us.

“Exactly what I said.” Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I glanced in the rearview mirror as Tyler pulled into the garage behind us. “Wait here.” I got out of the SUV and walked to the back.

Tyler pulled up behind us, got out and grinned. “How’s the zoo impersonator?”

I wanted to forget those fucking animal sounds last night. “You got everything?”

“Yeah, all four suitcases and her giant purse.” He walked to the back of his SUV. “Three of the suitcases weren’t even opened.”

I tipped my chin toward my SUV and gave him fair warning before opening the back. “She’s inside.”

“Yeah, figured. She seen the videos yet?”

“Not that I know of.” I opened the lift gate and we transferred her shit from his SUV to mine.

Audrina turned to watch us, but she didn’t say anything.

“Take care, Ms. MacKenzie.” Tyler smiled his pretty boy smile at her after loading her last suitcase. “Hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Miami.”

To my utter shock, she apologized to him. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you last night, Tyler.”

“All in a day’s work, ma’am.” Tyler smiled again. “No worries.”

Day’s work, my ass. Her little stunt had plastered his face all over the internet, which was bad news for a bodyguard. I shut the lift gate, cutting off their little reunion.

Tyler eyed me, then chuckled. “In a hurry?”

I refrained from telling him to fuck off. “Taking her to Memorial.”

He instantly sobered. “No shit? She sick? From last night?”

“Tox screen. She was drugged by her prick of a costar at the club.” I leveled him with a look. “You see anything?”

“ Shit .” Frowning, his hands went to his hips. “I got her drinks last night. Payne was around, yeah, but he had his own security. She danced with him, but I didn’t see him give her a drink. I assumed she took something on her own.”

“She didn’t. He admitted to it.”

“Damn it.” He looked stricken.

“I need to get her to Memorial. Let Luna know we’re on our way there.”

“Copy that.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “Fuck, I dropped the ball.”

“Catch you later.” I didn’t say shit one way or another. We’d all had wild-card clients. It could’ve happened to any of us, but the fucking truth was, if you were smart, you discouraged a client from going clubbing. It was one of the hardest venues to guard. The second you walked through that door, nothing was in your control, the client included.

I got behind the wheel and waited for Tyler to pull away before I started to back out.

“I need to change before walking into the hospital.”

Shit. My head space taken up with Payne’s bullshit and Tyler’s negligence, I’d fucking forgotten she was still in my T-shirt .

I pulled back in to the parking spot, now pissed I had to take her into the building, and her current state of undress would be on the security cameras. Which was a joke, considering that by now every guy at L and A had probably seen the footage of her naked ass while Tyler rowed his way across South Beach.

“You can change upstairs.” I pulled my phone out to text Luna to see which of the apartments we kept for clients were vacant.

She glanced toward the elevators. “Not that I’m complaining, but walking into your company’s office in a T-shirt with a bunch of muscled bodyguards isn’t on my short list.” She looked to the back of the SUV. “I’ll get dressed in here if you could just grab me some clothes.”

I shouldn’t have liked the fact that she didn’t want to parade her ass past the other men. “There’re apartments upstairs. You won’t be walking through the office.”

“Here’s fine. I just want to be dressed.”

Hollywood’s hottest actress, her hair a mess, no makeup, and she wanted to throw clothes on in a company SUV. Not gonna lie, she threw me. “You don’t want to do your hair or makeup?” She’d had that shit caked on last night.

“I’m going to the hospital, Mr. Gunther. Not the red carpet.”

Not digging her using my last name, I opened my door. “What do you want?”

“Just grab me something,” she snapped, out of patience.

My first thought was I wanted to spank the fuck out of her for barking an order at me. My second thought, a distant fucking second, was that I shouldn’t give a shit that she was capable of being low maintenance, or that I was relieved I wasn’t parading her into L and A.

Ignoring the shit in my head, I opened the back. Three suitcases looked new and one looked well-used. I grabbed the latter and opened it. It was full of movie scripts, and a couple pairs of shoes. I reached for one of the newer-looking suitcases and opened it. All clothes, all new, all with the tags still on, underwear included.

Mentally shaking my head, I grabbed jeans and one of the only shirts with long sleeves, because hospitals were cold as fuck. Picking out underwear I’d love to rip off her, I grabbed shoes and a hairbrush from the first suitcase, then snatched her purse and went back to the driver’s seat.

“Here.” I handed her the pile.

“Thanks,” she muttered, dumping her purse and shoes at her feet and ripping the tags off the clothes without even looking at what I gave her.

She slid the underwear up her legs, but when she got to her hips, I looked out my window. As much as I wanted to watch her get dressed, I wasn’t a total fucking prick.

“You’ve already seen me naked. You’re turning your head now?”

I looked back at her. She had the bra and jeans on and was pulling the shirt over her head. “I also showered with you.” Jesus, she needed some fucking weight on her. “You forget that too?”

She froze for half a second, then took the pen out of her makeshift bun. Blonde hair fell halfway down her back. “Apparently you’re not that memorable.”

I watched the slight shake in her hand as she picked up the brush and dragged it through her hair. “You enjoy lying?”

She covered her surprise with a smirk. “I’m an actor.” She tossed the brush in the center console. “Take me to the hospital.”

My cell vibrated with a text.

Luna: Hospital’s expecting you. Spoke with her lawyer, new contract. You’re taking her to Neil Christensen’s house in Golden Beach after. Double gated entrance, no press access. You’ll stay there until we hear back from the lawyer. He said expect a week. Sending your go bag and groceries now. Anything else?

I fired off a response.

Me: She’s vegan.

Luna: Copy that. Supplies on the way. Sending separate text with address and gate codes.

A second text from him came in with the address, and I pocketed my phone.

“Ready?” she asked sarcastically.