Julianne Maclean - Sleeping With The Playboy

Still, it was strange.

“What about friends? Does his partner, Dr. Reeves, have a key? Or what about any girlfriends, past or present?”

Again, she shook her head. “No women. He goes out a lot, but there is no one.”

Jocelyn heard Dr. Knight’s bedroom door open, and the sound of footsteps approaching. She expected to see him in his work clothes, but instead, he wore a tank and shorts.

Jocelyn felt a sharp tingling of awareness move through her. He looked nothing like he did last night in the tuxedo. In sneakers and a shirt that showed off his broad, muscular shoulders, he looked almost like a regular, everyday guy. Well, not too regular. Not with that body.

He passed through the kitchen, apparently on his way to the door. “Morning.”

Jocelyn set down her cup and followed him. “Wait a second, we were supposed to go over the contract this morning. Where are you going?”

“For a run.” He reached the marble foyer and pulled open a small cabinet drawer to retrieve a key in a shoe wallet and fasten it to his sneaker.

“Not without me you’re not. Did you forget what you hired me for? I’m not here to guard your penthouse. I’m here to guard you.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “I was wondering how this was going to work…. Do you think you can keep up?”

She gave him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look.

“Of course you can. Sorry.” He glanced down at her loafers. “Even with those?”

She glanced down, too. “Yes, with these, but I’d rather not risk an injury. Wait here and I’ll change.”

“You have running gear?” His voice gave away his surprise.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she headed to her room. “I have everything. We can discuss the contract while we run.”

Jocelyn placed the flat of her hands on the marble, vestibule wall, and leaned in for a calf stretch. She wore black, thigh-length Lycra shorts and a matching Y-back bra top. Her arms, shoulders and stomach were firmly toned, and just as Donovan had imagined last night as he’d watched her flicking window latches in that brown suit, she had a terrific, tight butt and long, suntanned legs to die for.

“Is there anything you don’t do?” he asked.

She finished the stretch and bent into another one. “Cook.”

“No? I love to cook.”

“We’ll get along well, then. You love to cook, and I love to eat what other people put in front of me.”

Her delivery was deadpan, but there was something there that suggested again that she did have a sense of humor, even if she wasn’t obvious about it.

Donovan suspected there was a lot more to his bodyguard than what she showed the world. No one could be as indifferent as she seemed to be, every day of their life. This had to be her professional persona, and he found himself wondering quite acutely what she was like around her closest friends. He’d give anything to see her smile or laugh. Maybe he should make that his goal for the day.

Donovan continued to watch her. “Anything else you don’t know how to do?”

She pulled her arm across her chest to stretch her triceps. “I don’t know how to fix cars. It’s on my to-do list.”

“Me, neither, but I can’t say it’s on mine.”

“No, you probably hire people to do that kind of menial work.”

Donovan grabbed onto his sneaker and lifted his foot for a thigh stretch. “Now, why do you say it like that? Like I’m a snob or something.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but you implied it with your tone, and it’s not the first time.”

She said nothing. She just continued to stretch.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

“Like I said, I try to be invisible.”

“Invisible is one thing. Rude is another.”

“I wasn’t being rude.”

“Yes, you were. I asked you a question, and you ignored me.”

She glanced at him only briefly. “I didn’t ignore you. I just didn’t reply to what wasn’t a question in the first place. It was an observation on your part, and you’re entitled to your opinions.”

Donovan stretched his hamstrings. “My opinions… God, I don’t even remember what I said now. Do you always have this effect on men?”

Jocelyn ignored the last part of his question. She finished stretching and pressed the elevator button. “You said I implied you were a snob.”

He snickered at her deadpan tone again, as he gazed down at her dainty profile. She was looking up at the lighted numbers over the elevator doors.

“So, did you?” he asked.

“Did I what?”

“Imply that I was a snob? You can’t argue that that wasn’t a question.”

The elevator dinged, the brass doors opened and Jocelyn stepped inside. She held him back from entering, looked up at the ceiling, then motioned for him to follow. “If I implied it, I apologize. It’s none of my business what kind of person you are.”

Donovan pressed the lobby button. “So you don’t deny it. You think I’m a snob.”

Her mouth curved up in a half smile as she shook her head at him. It was a cute smile. A little on the devilish side, but cute. He’d like to see another one. A looser one. The kind of smile she’d have right after sex.

If she ever had sex. He imagined there’d be a few “walls of inhibition” that would have to come down first. Or be scaled.

He would enjoy that—scaling her walls.

“What does it matter what I think, Dr. Knight? I’m just your bodyguard.”

“It matters a great deal. We’re going to be in close quarters over the next little while, and call me vain, but I can’t stand the idea of a woman not liking me, especially when she doesn’t even know me. And why can’t you call me Donovan?”

“Because our relationship is a professional one, and keeping those lines firmly drawn is important in my line of work, especially when I’m required to inhabit people’s homes.”

He nodded. “Ah, that makes sense. You could have said so last night, when the subject came up.”

“I hadn’t decided whether or not I was going to take the job last night.”

The elevator reached the bottom floor, and they crossed the lobby and passed through the large revolving doors. Once out on the street, they began to jog alongside each other.

“How’d you get the scar on your left shoulder?” she asked, never taking her eyes off what was ahead of her.

“You don’t miss a thing, do you? I was in a car accident a year ago.”

“Your fault?”

“No, I was rammed by another driver who ran a red light. My door caved inward and broke my arm and a few ribs. The glass cut me up pretty bad, but it was all fixable. It took me a while to get back in shape, though. I used to compete in triathlons, but now I’m just in training.”

“You seem like an exercise nut.”

“I just like staying healthy.”

They jogged a block or two, then Jocelyn said, “Let’s talk about the contract now, and what level of protection you want from me.”

Donovan settled into a comfortable pace, his breathing controlled. “Since you’re going to be in my house anyway, we might as well go for the highest level.”

“It’ll cost you.”

“Not a problem.”

They jogged down to the lights and crossed the street.

“First,” she said, “let’s start with your penthouse. Do you want me to arrange every improvement possible? Or stick with just the alarm system? Either way, I’ll need to see your deed to ascertain if there are any conditions of occupancy that might limit what we do.”

“I’ll get you the deed right away, and if we can, let’s go the whole nine yards. The only thing I ask is that you keep the improvements from standing out too much. I don’t want my home to look like Fort Knox.”