Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I'm an idiot, Vi," Max told her when she'd finished securing the front door.
Seeing as that was true, she saw no need to correct him.
"I thought I had this whole thing figured out," he continued.
"I've been planning it for months. We come to the island, I get photos of Damien with his partner, or better yet, documents proving they're in business together, then I go home and blow his operation wide open.
But I was only fooling myself. I wanted more than proof.
I wanted to be here, rubbing his face in it while I ruined him. "
Violet noticed his careful planning hadn't included how to get access to Damien's estate so he could get his hands on the smoking gun he needed for his story.
Nor did it include how he was going to publish his exposé when he'd finished it.
She suspected Max had glossed over a lot in preparing for this op, hoping to get by on luck and tenacity.
Amateur.
"Are you listening to me?" he said as he came to a stop in front of her.
It took a second for his words to register. "Nope."
"Violet," he said with exasperation. "I'm pouring out my heart to you here. The least you could do is listen."
"Why?"
She moved past him to collect the pajamas she'd bought for the trip. They were made of black silk, in the hopes the material would keep her cool. She'd also figured they'd blend with the night, if she had to make a run for it. Plus, they reminded her of the Gi she wore for karate.
"Because it's polite?" he didn't sound convinced.
"You're going over and over the same stuff because you feel bad about it. Let it go. Move on. Focus on what we need to do tomorrow."
"Just like that?" He threw up his hands. "You might be able to move on without much self-examination, but I process my experience with words."
"Then go write it all down." She headed for the bathroom. "I'm getting ready for bed. Do. Not. Come. In. Here."
It was killing her that the bathroom didn't have a door. If she didn't know Damien owned the place, she'd have written a strongly worded complaint to management. Not every couple were comfortable using the bathroom in front of each other. Even the ones who weren't faking their relationship.
She heard a loud huff from the other room, then some banging about as Max further recriminated himself while getting ready for bed. The dude was not Zen.
When she came back out, he was standing beside the bed wearing a pair of soft, red, tartan pajama pants and a gray T-shirt. Why the get up should look sexy, she didn't know. She glanced at his feet. Bare, but no hairy toes. Shame. Hairy toes would have killed any thoughts of sexy dead.
He picked up a pillow as she hung her dress in the closet. "You take the bed, I'm good on the sofa," he said.
"I'm taking the sofa," Violet corrected. "It's in the living room, which has the best view of the front door and the bedroom." She took the special hairbrush she'd packed out of her suitcase.
Max was shaking his head. "I can't let you sleep on the sofa. My mother would kill me. In situations like this, a lady takes the bed and that's final."
"I realize you think you're being a gentleman," she said as she closed the distance between them. "But I'm not a lady. I'm your bodyguard."
His eyes did a sweep of her body from head to toe, making her hyper aware of him, in ways that had nothing to do with his protection. "No, you're definitely a lady. I'll be fine on the sofa. I promise not to answer the door or do anything stupid. Okay?"
"I'm going to give you one last chance to change your mind," Violet said. "Get into bed and go to sleep. You're obviously overstimulated and need your rest."
His eyes went wide. "What am I? A toddler on a sugar high? This isn't a big deal. You sleep on the bed, I'll sleep on the sofa, and we'll both be happy."
"I did warn you." Violet pressed the end of her hairbrush to his abdomen and hit the button on the handle. An injector popped out and pumped a lovely dose of sedatives straight into Max.
"What the hell?" Max slapped a hand on his stomach. "What did you do? Did you stun me?"
"If I'd used a stun gun on you, you'd know it." She shoved him back onto the bed and removed the pillow from his hold.
"You drugged me," he said sounding incredulous, and slightly disorientated. Good, it was working. "That's illegal."
"So, sue me." She hauled his legs up onto the bed and pulled the thin cover over him.
"This is so wrong, Vi," he slurred the words.
"And it's going to get worse," she told him as she put a pillow under his head. "Because not only have I drugged you, I'm also going to handcuff you to the bed."
Once he was settled, she went back to her suitcase and returned with some fluffy blue handcuffs.
She'd wanted to travel with regulation silver ones, but Katrina had pointed out that the fluffy ones would raise fewer eyebrows if someone at the resort saw them in her luggage.
Apparently kinky handcuffs were common at weddings.
Who knew? Violet didn't think there was anything kinky about cuffs.
Cuffs were meant to restrain bad guys, or to stop obsessive clients from doing something that could get them all killed while his bodyguard got some much-needed sleep.
Max saw the cuffs and a loopy grin spread across his face.
"You wanna tie me up, Vi? I can do that.
" He raised his hands above his head. She cuffed one of them to the ironwork bed frame.
"What’re gonna to do with me?" he drawled seductively.
"I'm all yours. Climb on board the love train, honey. I'll let you ride me anytime."
She couldn't help it, she had to laugh. "You are a doofus when you're drugged."
"Dunno, never been drugged before." He tried to frown but couldn't quite pull it off. "I feel kinda floaty. And horny. C'mere Violet, climb aboard the Maximillian. Toot! Toot!"
She was laughing hard now and part of her considered taking a video of him to use later. In case she needed to blackmail him in to behaving sensibly. Because she doubted she'd seen the last of his bad decision making.
"Go to sleep, Max," she told him as she gave into temptation and smoothed his unruly hair back from his forehead.
His skin was warm to the touch and his hair felt like satin against her fingertips.
She didn't know why, but she was fascinated by his overgrown hair and hoped he never cut it shorter.
"Tomorrow will be better," she promised.
As she turned to go, his free hand shot out to grab her arm. He held her gently. For a moment, they stared at each other. Slowly, he released his hold and reached up to trace the curve of her cheek.
"So beautiful," he whispered. "Beautiful and scary. But you don't scare me, Violet Lee, because I've figured you out."
"Is that right?" she sounded breathless as she drank in the look of wonder on his face.
"Oh, yeah," he said. "You've got a soft center." He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. "I could eat you up."
A slow, sensual smile, that made her stomach clench, spread over Max's face. Then his hand fell to the bed, his eyes closed, and he was out cold.
It took longer than it should have for her to leave him there and head to the sofa. As Violet settled in for the night, she fell asleep to the sound of his gentle snoring. It was oddly soothing.
"I can't believe you drugged me," Max said for the millionth time the next morning. "Do you even realize how unethical that is?"
"Don't care," Violet said, praying he'd let it go.
Unfortunately, he showed no sign of doing so.
The discussion had started as soon as Violet had uncuffed him from the bed that morning.
It had continued through their room service breakfast and had carried on into their walk across the hotel grounds to their appointment with the wedding planner.
The reporter loved using his words. All of them.
All the time. He'd told her words were how he processed the world.
Whatever the hell that meant. All she knew was that he wouldn't stop talking.
She wasn't even sure she needed to be present for him to have this discussion, but as his bodyguard, she had no choice but to be at his side.
Earplugs.
She needed earplugs.
"What if I'd had a reaction to your drug, what then?" he demanded.
Ignoring him wasn't working, so she tried reason. "I'd have called Rodrigo," she said. "Or a priest to administer last rites. Whatever fit the situation."
"Violet, I'm serious. Please tell me you understand that drugging people isn't the right thing to do."
"It was the right thing to do last night," she said. "You wouldn't shut up and I was worried you'd storm off during the night to confront your nemesis. This way, we both got a good night's sleep. Don't you feel better?"
"What will Rodrigo say when he finds out you drugged the client?"
"Well done?" Violet wasn't sure if that would be his exact response, but it should have been. He wasn't the one being forced to listen to lectures on ethics first thing in the morning.
"Violet." Max put a hand on her arm to stop her. "You can't drug people."
She let out a sigh. They were going to be late for the wedding planner and, even though she didn't want to talk to the woman, she definitely didn't want to draw the whole thing out.
"Vi," he said again, his voice softening. "Drugging people is bad. You get that, right?"
"Is this a Canadian thing?" Violet asked, genuinely curious. "I heard you guys are real sticklers for the rules."
"No, it isn't a Canadian thing, it's a universal thing. Drugging people to make things easier is not the way to handle difficult situations."
"Sometimes it's the fastest and safest thing to do," she pointed out. "Would you have rather I put you in a chokehold until you passed out?"
"No! I'd have rather you didn't knock me out at all."
From what he was saying, she assumed cuffing him to the bed was still okay. "How about I promise never to drug you again? Would that make you stop talking about this?"
"It'd help, but I'm a bit worried you're some sort of psychopath who doesn't realize drugging people is a morally and socially unacceptable thing to do."
"I was a cop," she said. "I know it isn't the legal thing to do.
But you wouldn't shut up about the bloody bed.
And we were all worried you'd go crazy and attack Poole during the night.
So, give me a break here, there was nothing psychopathic about my thought process.
I needed to ensure you didn't endanger yourself or anyone else on the team.
Plus, I was tired, and you wouldn't shut up.
A woman can only take so much. And now, I'm getting pissed off because I have to explain myself, when I'm the security expert, and you're the client I have to keep safe. "
"Trust me, I appreciate the explanation." And, weirdly, he seemed genuinely pleased she'd given it to him. "No more drugging and I promise not to run off and do something stupid. How's that?"
"Yeah, the problem with that is I'm not sure you'd know stupid if it smacked you in the face. You don't exactly have a great track record with intelligent decisions when it comes to Damien Poole."
"That's fair." He slid his hand down her arm to hold her hand.
She shook it off and frowned at him.
He smiled. Not quite a dimple smile, but his eyes crinkled at the edges in a way that was oddly fascinating. "Here's the deal. I'll run my ideas past you first, so you can check for operational stupidity, and you will resist the urge to knock me out when I annoy you. Deal?"
"You're going to get us both killed," she warned him.
"That's not my intention," he promised.
"Fine." She held out her hand for him to shake. "We have a deal."
He flashed those damned dimples at her. "That won't cut it. Engaged people seal the deal with a kiss."
"And annoying clients get drugged if they keep pushing their bodyguards. Do you want this deal or not?"
He wisely shook her hand.
Even though the topic was now closed, Violet had to know something. "What makes you think I'll keep the deal and I'm not just lying to shut you up?"
Again with the dimples. He was doing it on purpose.
"Because you've got a core of honor running right through you.
Anybody can see it. You're all about justice and duty and honor.
" He shrugged. "You also like shortcuts and have no problems justifying your actions if you have to, which keeps it interesting, but I'm sure if you give me your word, you mean it. "
Huh.
"Come on," she grumbled, turning back toward the wedding planner's office. "Rodrigo says we have to focus on the wedding and fake being as sickly romantic as possible, so we can lull Damien into a false sense of security."
"I'm pretty sure he just said carry on with the plan," Max said.
"Same thing."