Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
I zzy was looking forward to this trip. They were shooting next season's swimwear collection, and the late August sunshine was just what she needed. It had been a tough few weeks arranging her father's funeral, taking over the reins at Omega Enterprises, and dealing with the threatening notes, while still running her own business.
Even tougher looking like you're having fun when you're expecting a sniper to take a shot at you at any moment. Okay, that was a bit ridiculous— it was probably just some prankster—but she couldn't be sure.
Uncle Pat had been a darling. Not really her uncle, but a close family friend. She'd called him that ever since she was a toddler, and old habits were hard to break. Besides, he felt like family.
She'd never quite gotten to the bottom of his relationship with her mother, although she knew they'd been close. If it wasn't for Pat's wife dying and seeing how distraught he'd been, she might have suspected they were more than friends.
And now she had Viper. What kind of name was that anyway?
She thought about the mysterious ex-military man with the hardened body of a soldier and eyes the color of the ocean. Pat had told her he'd done something quite brave in South America recently, although he hadn't gone into detail. Apparently, the former military man had been badly injured and as a result, medically discharged.
Safe hands, Pat had said.
She couldn't ignore those hands—scarred, calloused, and rough. Hands that had handled weapons and taken lives. How many lives, she wondered? Despite the late summer sun, Izzy felt a chill crawl up her spine.
She exited her apartment building, pulling her carry-on behind her. Lewis, the concierge, carried her two big suitcases downstairs. Inside were two weeks' worth of designer and department store brands she was contracted to show off while on vacation.
Her legions of followers liked that she wore clothes for real women. Not supermodels or anorexic celebrities, but women with curves and flaws and boobs. She showed them that they could also look sexy and elegant. Yesterday's imperfect was today's perfect.
Her bodyguard stood by the car, massive chest bursting out of a suit and tie, making it look almost ridiculous. Was it her imagination or did he appear even bigger and bulkier than yesterday? Then she noticed the protective vest beneath that pressed white shirt. He glanced up and down the street, alert and on guard. There was a Bluetooth listening device in his ear, presumably to call for help if needed.
The reality of her situation hit home. Her stomach clenched with a sudden spurt of anxiety.
Breathe.
She couldn't let this unknown threat ruin her life.
Viper was the best. He would protect her, until the police caught the person or organization behind those letters.
Please let it be soon.
Living like this wasn't going to be easy.
She descended the steps outside her apartment block and came to a stop beside him on the sidewalk. He towered over her, his hulking frame blocking out the early morning sun that had just poked its golden head over the D.C. skyline that counted as the horizon around here. Feeling awkward, she managed a tight smile.
"Morning, ma'am. Let me get that for you." He took the case from her, his hand brushing hers, but his gaze remained on his surroundings. A waft of manly aftershave floated her way, fresh and enticing, mingling with her own brand. The perfumer she'd worked with on Silk, her own fragrance, had taught her how to distinguish between different notes. Then there was that chiseled jaw, freshly shaven but somehow still hinting of a five o’clock shadow.
"Thank you."
Lewis placed the two heavy cases on the sidewalk beside the car. Viper lifted them up like they weighed no more than a child’s school case. He was going to be useful in more ways than one.
"Ready, ma'am?" Viper asked.
She nodded. "Yes, but please call me Izzy, or if we're around people, Miss Beaumont. I'm not a politician or royalty."
"Yes, Miss Beaumont."
She climbed into the back. He got into the driver's seat, checked she was buckled in, then started the engine. Signaling, he pulled out into the traffic. Izzy settled back and concentrated on her phone. The drive to the airport would take half an hour—time to catch up on her emails.
They stopped at a traffic light. She looked up and accidentally met his gaze in the rearview mirror—an intense blue laser that cut through the air between them. Unnerved, she glanced away.
Something about him made her nervous, something she couldn't put her finger on. Sure, he was the strong silent type, but he seemed distant, like he carried a heavy burden behind those slanting sea-blue eyes. Behind the granite fa?ade was a repressed strength that made her both fear and admire him. He was a killer—a sniper, Pat had said—but also her protector. A confusing contradiction.
Letting out a slow breath, she contemplated the trip ahead. Warm Californian sunshine, laid-back glamor, cocktails by the beach. It was just what she needed. These last few weeks had left her shaken and anxious, more highly strung than usual, and she needed to decompress.
Ignoring the tension inside the vehicle, she concentrated on replying to queries, ordering samples, and a host of other requests. Her inbox was overflowing. There was never enough time to get through all of them. Thank goodness her assistant took care of the majority, flagging the important or urgent ones that needed her attention.
Half an hour later, they pulled into the VIP parking area at the airport. Viper had made excellent time, but then the roads weren’t busy at this hour.
He hauled her two enormous cases out of the trunk, including a beat-up leather duffel bag for himself. Distressed leather would be the correct term, which ironically was trending right now, but she had a sneaky feeling his bag had gotten that way through overuse, not a process in a factory.
Compared to her, he traveled light, but then he wasn’t the one hauling and entire range of clothing around.
"I'm going to grab a coffee," she told him after she'd checked her luggage. "Do you want one?"
"I'm good, thanks."
“Okay, suit yourself." Who didn't want coffee at 6 AM? She walked ahead of him to the Starbucks counter. He stuck to her like glue. So much so, she could almost feel his body heat, or was that her overactive imagination? In her head, she pictured him on a beach, surfboard in hand, dripping wet...
Okay, enough of that!
"Is it necessary to stand so close," she muttered.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's getting busy in here. It would be better if you sat somewhere less crowded."
He did have a point. Anyone in this crowd could be holding a knife or some other weapon. She bought her coffee moved to the executive lounge. Viper's massive shoulders relaxed once they were out of the fray, making her realize he’d been as on edge as she was.
Scanning the room, he said, "This is much better."
“Take a seat.” She gestured to the row of chairs next to her and checked her phone again. In the last ten minutes she’d received messages from her assistant, Emily; as well as the ad executive who was meeting her in San Diego with the models and crew; her stylist; and Robert. She sighed and read Robert's message first.
Have a good trip, darling. I'll try to get out there next week.
He ended it with a kiss.
She sighed. He was persistent, if nothing else. They'd only been on a few dates and weren't by any means exclusive, but he always treated her like gold, and she knew it had been her father's wish that they marry. "Robert is a good man, Izzy," he'd told her once. "And he's good for the company. You two would make a formidable team."
Except, that was the problem.
Her father was thinking about the company, not her. It wasn't unusual; he'd been doing that for as long as she could remember. During her formative years, he’d spent more time in Mexico than he had at home. Apart from school vacations at exotic beach resorts, most of her childhood memories were made at boarding school.
Emily messaged again. "I'm here! WTH are you?"
She smiled. What would she do without Emily? Apart from being one of her closest friends, as an assistant, she was worth her weight in gold.
"Exec lounge," she texted back.
A short while later, a petite, cherubic woman with bright eyes and flushed cheeks came bounding in, pulling her cabin case behind her. "There you are!" She hurried over to Izzy.
Viper leaped to his feet and positioned himself between them.
Emily skidded to a halt, looking up at the man who towered over her. "Whoa! Hello. Who is this?" She turned to Izzy, her eyebrows raised.
Izzy couldn’t resist a grin. "Emily, meet my bodyguard, Viper. Viper, this is Emily, my assistant."
“Sorry, ma’am.” Viper shook her hand and resumed his seat.
Emily gave him an approving look.
"He'll do," she whispered, as she sat down beside Izzy.
Izzy flushed and elbowed her friend in the ribs, hoping Viper hadn't heard. Emily wasn't known for her subtlety.
"I've just gotten a message from Clint," her assistant told her, her gaze still lingering on Viper. "He's been held up in Barcelona, but he said not to worry, he'll be there by this evening."
Izzy paled. "He’d better be. The shoot is tomorrow morning."
“Who’s Clint?” Viper asked, his blue eyes slanting. “I don’t recall his name on the list you sent me.”
She frowned. “Oh, didn’t I include him? I meant to. Clint is my stylist. He does my hair and makeup for my social media snaps."
She could see the muscles tighten in his jaw. “Anyone else you forgot to include?”
Izzy glared at him. “I don’t think so.”
"Is he always this friendly?" Emily whispered.
"Can you be a little less obvious?" hissed Izzy. The last thing she wanted to do was antagonize the guy. He might be an employee, but she had to live with him glued to her heels for the next few weeks.
"Sorry, but he's totally hot. I haven't seen that much raw male energy since we did the lifeguard calendar shoot in Miami last year. Where did you find him?"
Izzy stifled a laugh. "I didn't. My Uncle Pat assigned him to me because of the threatening letters."
"He made a good choice. It's gonna be fun having him around."
"Hands off, Emily," Izzy warned. "He's here to do a job."
"Oh, so you're calling dibs on him, huh?"
"Of course not!" Her cheeks burned. "He's here to protect me. I don't want anything to get in the way of that."
Emily gave her a cheeky grin. "Sure, hun. Whatever you say."
Izzy shook her head. Emily had been her friend since high school and her assistant for the last few years, ever since her online profile had exploded and became too big for her to handle. Emily had gotten a job as a virtual assistant straight out of college, even though she'd studied modern languages at college, so when Izzy had considered bringing someone onboard, she'd looked no further than her friend.
Their flight was called, and they boarded the plane that would take them to San Diego. If Viper was surprised at the first-class seating, he didn't show it. In fact, it was hard to get a reaction out of him at all.
He stowed their cabin cases in the overhead compartments and eased himself into the aisle seat. A solid barrier between them and the rest of the plane.
Izzy couldn't fault his professionalism, but when it came to his social skills, she feared he might be lacking. He was very removed, and still hadn't looked directly at her—not since that accidently glance in the rearview mirror.
She tried to get comfortable beside him, but he was so broad that the slightest movement meant her arm brushed his, or her leg connected with his thigh. Each time, she jolted away, while he didn’t budge. Fine. She’d just sit absolutely still, except that didn’t work either, so she angled her body away from him to talk to Emily. Who would have thought having a bodyguard would be so stressful?