Protecting His Assets (11 page)

Chapter Six

A
pril opened her eyes with a gasp. It took her a moment to remember where she was.

Nolan’s office. Nolan’s couch.

She was alone. Nolan was gone.

She jumped up, tripping over the blanket she didn’t remember being there when she’d lain down.

She swore a blue streak and was halfway across the room when the door to the private bathroom opened, and there he was, wearing nothing but a big white towel, steam still rising around him and moisture clinging to his decidedly distracting body.

“I didn’t ditch you,” he said with a grin, leaning against the doorjamb.

She swallowed and nodded, aware she was staring but unable to look away. “Uh, yes. Good. Thanks.”

He watched her, obviously enjoying her reaction. Self-conscious, she raked a hand through her hair and pushed it off her shoulders. “Shouldn’t you maybe…” She pointed to the towel. The only thing keeping it clinging to his hips was a little tuck of the corner.

His grin widened, and he put his hands on his hips. She bit her lip. “Just put
something
on, please,” she begged. “I can’t talk to you like that.”

He chuckled and her cheeks burned. “I’ll be back out in a minute, then you’re welcome to use the shower in here if you want to freshen up.”

She closed her eyes as soon as the door closed again, but that only sharpened the picture in her mind.

What time was it? The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was checking her voicemail. Her phone was probably somewhere in the couch cushions now. She went back and found it sitting on the side table. She couldn’t recall having put it there herself, but it was possible. She knew that she hadn’t gotten herself a blanket, though. Which meant Nolan had covered her up while she slept. Her cheeks heated again, but she shook it off and called her dad.

“April?”

Her heart lurched. He sounded weak and tired. “Dad, are you okay?”

He coughed. “I’m fine. Where are you?”

She needed to go to him. She’d call the office after she got off the phone and arrange for someone else to relieve her with Nolan for a few hours. She blinked back tears and forced a normal tone into her voice. “On a job. I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to check on you last night, I—”

“No. I told you not to come, and I meant it. It’s just me sitting in a chair with a needle in my arm, getting crankier by the minute. I don’t need you for that. Besides, Grady’s gonna come in a little while and bring me coffee. The stuff here tastes like motor oil.” Grady was her dad’s old coach and best friend, who’d taken over the gym when he got too sick to run it himself.

She chuckled, even though all she wanted to do was cry. “Dad, I want to be there. I’ll just sit with you and—”

“I don’t want you,” he snapped.

She hissed. “But you want Grady?” she said, hurt.

After a long moment, he sighed over the line. “I’ll call if I need something.”

He hung up.

She stared down at the phone, feeling angry and powerless. Her father had never spoken to her like that before. Since her mother died, it had been the two of them against the world, but then he’d gotten sick and had been withdrawing from her, especially ever since she’d said she was coming home. She had thought it would get better with her there, but if anything, things between them were worse.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. She spun around to find Nolan frowning at her. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

She swiped the tears from her eyes and looked away. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Is it your father? Do you need to go to him?”

“My father is fine,” she said sharply, regretting everything she’d ever mentioned about her personal life. She didn’t need his pity. She squared her shoulders and looked him up and down. “Is that what you’re going to wear the rest of the day?”

He glanced down at his gym shorts and tank top. “Is that your way of saying this would be inappropriate for a Saturday afternoon out on the town?”

She hoped he couldn’t see her blush. Who wouldn’t enjoy that view? But he was even more distracting than usual like this. He flexed his pecs and watched for her reaction. Yep, he knew she was blushing.

“Apparently this is all I’ve got left right now. As much as I hate the idea, I’m going to have to go shopping. I suppose you’ll want to come?”

She blamed her smile on having just awakened and quickly renewed her determination to keep Nolan at a distance. As a woman who’d spent a lot of time around hormone-driven, muscle-bound men in gym shorts and boxing gloves for most of her life, she was used to being pursued. But for most of those men it had been all about the challenge, and she’d seen right through it. Jeremy hadn’t been a part of that world; he’d been different, and she’d fallen for it. He had tricked her into believing he was interested in
her
, and in the end, that’s why he’d been worse than the others.

She refused to be the means by which another guy stroked his own ego.

“I suppose I have no choice but to go with you. We can’t set you loose upon an unsuspecting populace looking like that, or we’ll have a female riot on our hands. I’m not that good at my job.” She started for the bathroom. “I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

When she came out exactly ten minutes later, she felt a little better but wished she had something to wear besides her suit. She hadn’t planned on providing twenty-four hour protection and would have to call for a replacement at some point, if only to go home and grab a change of clothes.

“There’s no need for us to take separate cars,” he said when they entered the parking garage, which was still pretty empty on this Saturday morning.

She nodded. “Fine. I’ll drive.” She started to get in her car but turned back around at the sound of his locks clicking open and saw Nolan sliding into the driver’s seat of his own vehicle.

“Get in,” he called.

He was already starting the engine. She gritted her teeth and opened the passenger side door. “Why do you get to drive?”

“I’m the boss,” he said, revving the engine.

“I beg to differ,” she snapped. “You might be the client, but you are
not
my boss.”

“Then, because my car is nicer.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She drove a perfectly respectable black Honda that was less than three years old, but it was a clunker next to his Mercedes. And as she sat down, the buttery leather interior and tinted windows made her feel like she’d just slipped into his private den, complete with soft classical music.

“Do you listen to this a lot?” she asked, curious.

“The music?” He looked at her. “Do you want me to change it?”

“No, it’s fine. I guess I just pictured you as more of a hard rock kind of guy.”

“Why do you say that?”

She shrugged. “Those kinds of heavy, energetic beats seem to match your active…personality.”

He raised a brow at her delicate choice of words as he glanced into the rearview mirror and reversed out of his parking spot. “What do you like to listen to?”

“Nothing in particular.” They exited the parking lot, and the morning sun bounced off the chrome detail around his windshield. She tipped her head back to soak it in.

“’Fess up. You’re a closet country music fan, aren’t you?”

Her mouth fell open. “How did you know?”

“Because country music is sincere and unapologetic, just like you.”

She blushed and looked down at her lap. “This is a beautiful car,” she said, letting her fingers trace the stitching in the seat beside her thigh. “I thought you and Mr. Harrison were looking for more investment money to expand your company?”

He chuckled. “The kind of money we need at this point in the game isn’t going to happen just because I save a couple bucks driving a Toyota instead of a Mercedes. In fact, it’s more important than ever that it appear as if the money is rolling in. Everybody wants to jump on board the rocket ship, not the sinking ship.”

Forty-five minutes later, having thankfully stopped for coffee and muffins, they walked through the front door of an exclusive men’s shop. It was very different from women’s clothing stores—at least the ones she shopped at—she couldn’t really say she was an expert on shopping for any sex.

It was big and open, with dark wood floors that had been covered with different sized high-contrasting geometric rugs. The mannequins were all faceless chrome figures that reminded her of an old sci-fi movie she’d seen on late-night television a while ago, and the clothing racks were almost bare—which she supposed was designed to give the illusion of exclusivity.

A salesclerk with a sleek silver tag identifying him as Jerry greeted them as they entered. He reached out eagerly to shake Nolan’s hand and looked April up and down curiously, as if he wasn’t sure they were really together, or if two strangers had just happened to walk into his shop at the same time.

Nolan explained that there’d been a “mishap” and his closet had suffered. “I’ve got to get a few things to last the rest of the week. What have you got that I can take home today?”

Jerry frowned. He didn’t like the idea of selling something “off the rack.”

April stood back and let Nolan and Jerry have their fun. She wandered a little and found herself looking down at a table of cashmere sweaters. She ran her hand over a black one and looked up at Nolan. It would look great on him.

She found him watching her and jerked her hand back. She was so
not
picking out clothes for Steve Nolan.

He finally made his way to the changing room. April waited in a very comfortable leather club chair with her coffee and tried not to think about the fact that he was stripping down to his skin not ten feet away from her.

Thankfully, he didn’t come out and model for her, and after another ten minutes, Jerry was packing up four bags worth of clothing, and Nolan was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans with a white T-shirt beneath the same black cashmere sweater she’d been eyeballing earlier. She hadn’t even seen him go pick it up.

“How do I look?” He held out his arms and grinned.

So good she ached just looking at him…and he had to know it. But more than the way he looked, it was that easy smile and overwhelming confidence that got to her. “Fine,” she said tightly, glancing away quickly. “Are you ready to go, then?”

He chuckled knowingly and tossed the garment bag over his shoulder. “Thanks for your help, Jerry.”

The salesman walked them to the door and said good-bye with a wide smile. Why not? He’d probably just made his sales quota for the day.

April refocused on her job as they left the store. She watched the street, but it was a busy Saturday morning, and the sidewalks were crowded. She scanned faces, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Just young, trendy-looking shoppers out on a Saturday morning. So then why did her defenses suddenly go up with an electrical zap down her spine? She tensed, her senses sharp. She had the strongest sensation that she’d seen something important, but that her brain hadn’t yet identified it.

She stopped walking and put a hand on Nolan’s arm.

“What is it?” he asked.

Her lips pressed together. “I don’t know, but…something.” She kept her eyes peeled. “I need to get you off the street.”

He didn’t argue or question her, simply took her hand and pulled her into the next shop. April barely noticed that it was a women’s clothing store. She stayed to the side of the door behind a rack and looked out the window, watching to see who might have stopped when they ducked inside, or might be staring in after them. But of the passersby, none seemed to show any outward interest.

Just as she was about to chalk up her reaction to lack of sleep and nerves, a man stepped in front of the store window. Fairly young, no older than she was anyway. He wore dark glasses, but it was a sunny morning, so that shouldn’t have bothered her. And yet, something about him set off warning bells. He peered through the glass, but he wasn’t interested in the window display. His gaze sharpened, and he seemed to tense. She knew he was looking at Nolan.

She stepped out from behind the rack, catching the stranger’s attention. He glanced up and looked right at her for a split second before abruptly turning his head. He started walking. She pushed open the door to follow at the same time a woman and a teenaged girl stepped up to the entrance. They danced around each other in the bottleneck doorway, and by the time April managed to squeeze by them and get outside, there was no sign of the suspicious man.

Nolan had followed her outside. “What was that about?” he asked.

She took his arm and pulled him back inside the store. “There was a man standing outside the shop window, looking in. Have you seen him before?”

He frowned. “I didn’t see him now. What did he look like?”

She glanced back through the window, recreating the image of the figure who’d been there just a moment ago in her head. “Tall, slender, but wiry, and…scrappy.”

“How can you tell that someone is ‘scrappy’ by looking at him?” he asked.

“I’ve been around the type my whole life. The stiffness in his shoulders, and his nose was crooked, like it’d been broken a couple of times, and there was a focused look in his eyes. He wasn’t looking at the dresses, I know that much.” She shrugged, feeling suddenly uncertain. After all, until this moment she would have bet money that they were dealing with a woman.

Could she be imposing qualities on perfect strangers simply because she was trained to look for trouble? It wasn’t completely unheard of in her profession.

“He also had light brown hair, on the long side like he’s a couple weeks overdue for a haircut but not purposely going for a shaggy look. I’m pretty sure he had brown eyes, and he was wearing slim-fitted blue jeans and a sweater beneath an overcoat that seemed much too heavy for June.” She outlined what she could remember out loud, more for herself than for him, to commit the image to memory so she could recall the information later if it became necessary to do so.

“That’s a decent description, but there’s got to be a billion tall, brown-haired guys in the city.”

“Staring through a women’s clothing store window?”