The 9-Month Bodyguard. Cindy Dees
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you get her to do what she’s told like that? I’ve been trying for twenty years and never got her to behave.”
Without stopping to think, she snapped, “He said please.”
She wasn’t in the habit of sassing her father—she never won and it wasn’t worth the hassles to follow. But it had been a rough day. She braced herself, waiting for his explosion. But today Harold made no comment at all. Which was testament to just how upset he must be over the shooting.
She was stunned when he merely turned to Austin and said quietly, “I suppose it goes without saying that I’m grateful to you for pulling my little girl out of there.”
Her jaw dropped. Her father never said things like that! She frequently wasn’t at all sure he actually felt softer emotions like love or concern for his family.
Harold passed a small white object to Austin. “Your room key.”
Austin nodded his thanks. “You understand that nobody is to know that she’s with me. Nobody. The staff can just think that I eat like a horse and like to make my own bed for a few days.”
Harold nodded. “It’s taken care of.”
“And maybe you could thank Mr. Coddington for letting us commandeer his limo like that.”
Harold grinned. “I know just the thing. I’ll give the guy a fat stack of thousand dollar chips, which he’ll promptly lose back to me at the tables.”
Silver snorted. That was vintage Harold. Give someone a generous gift that he knew was going to come right back to him. But then he did surprise her by pulling out his wallet, extracting a thick wad of hundred dollar bills and handing them to the limo driver. “Here’s a small token of my appreciation for helping save my daughter’s life.”
Silver stared as the driver stammered his thanks. Well, knock her over with a feather!
Austin said, “Oh, and one more thing, Mr. Rothchild,” Austin said. “Fire that Sampson guy. He’s worthless as a bodyguard.”
Harold grimaced. “Believe me, I’d get rid of him if I could. But I don’t employ the guy. You’ll have to take that up with Silver. He works for her.”
Austin’s eyebrows shot up, but he made no comment to her. She got the distinct feeling they were going to converse more on the subject very soon, however.
While Austin steered her toward the elevator, she chewed on her father’s vehement comment about Mark. She’d had no idea Harold disliked him that much. Why hadn’t her father said something to her about it before now? Although, to be brutally honest with herself, if she’d known it would tick off her father, she might have made the relationship with Mark real just to get her father’s goat.
Maybe Harold wasn’t as dense as she thought he was. Maybe he’d finally learned not to push on the subject of her boyfriends and let her discover their schmuck-like qualities for herself. And they always turned out to be schmucks in the end. The sad fact was she had terrible taste in men. It was why she’d taken the drastic measures she had to have a baby.
As the elevator door slid shut, Austin called, “Thank you for your help, Mr. Rothchild.” Examining both sides of his plastic key, he asked, “Where’s my room?”
“Lemme see.” She took the card and turned it over. Wow. The New Yorker villa. It was one of the Grand’s four incredibly swanky penthouses that shared the roof of the forty story tall hotel. “You’ve got one of the penthouses. You put your key card in this slot to activate the elevator to the top floor.” She demonstrated, and then passed the key back to him. With a quiet, powerful whoosh, the elevator shot upward.
The metal encased space took on a heavy silence she had no interest in disturbing. At some point, Austin was going to start asking her questions—lots of them—and not a one of them was going to be easy to address.
The door opened on a quiet, oak paneled hallway lit by lamps on console tables. Fresh flower arrangements and thickly padded carpeting added to the overall ambience of European style.
“Let me guess. You want to get out of the elevator first, too,” she mused.
“Fast learner,” he murmured as he stepped out and took a hard look around.
“Your suite’s the one to the left.”
He nodded and gestured for her to follow. He all but ran down the hall, and for a man as tall as him, that was really moving. She had to break into a jog to keep up. Note to self: wear flats around this guy. She would only come up to his armpit that way, but at least she wouldn’t be forced to run in heels.
Austin hustled her into the suite and closed the door quickly behind them. His mental sigh of relief was nearly audible. She knew the feeling. The last hour had been a heck of a ride. Literally. Man, she was getting old. There was a time when this amount of excitement wouldn’t have fazed her. But now, the danger and racing around in fear for her life were simply exhausting.
A single thought exploded across her mind. I’m pregnant.
She really shouldn’t be doing crazy stuff like getting shot at anymore. Her wild days were, indeed, officially over. Now, they just had to convince an unnamed gunman of that fact.
“You hungry?” Austin called from the far side of the living room. He’d been looking carefully out of each of the floor to ceiling windows—probably checking for snipers or something.
Actually, she was vaguely nauseous. “Not really. You?”
“Starving. Adrenaline always makes me hungry.”
“Typical man.”
“Honey, I’m a lot of things, but typical isn’t one of them.”
She grinned over at him. “I gather modesty isn’t on your list of major attributes, either.”
He shrugged. “I call it as I see it, darlin’.”
“Want me to order up a steak for you from Room Service? The prime rib here is to die for if you’re a carnivore.” She started to reach for the phone, and Austin moved to her side so fast he was practically a blur.
He snatched the phone out of her hand. “Nobody’s to know you’re here. As of now, you’re officially in hiding.”
A moment’s relief at the idea of being safe gave way to dawning horror. “Small problem, big guy. I don’t have time to hide. I have only six weeks to pull together the show of my life.”
He scowled down at her. “Sorry. Not happening. What part of ‘someone just tried to kill you’ didn’t you get?”
Silver stared up defiantly at him. Taking temporary precautions in case her sister’s killer tried to harm her was one thing but screwing up the rest of her life by ruining her comeback was another thing entirely.
He had to be wrong about someone from her past coming after her. Sure, she’d stepped on a lot of toes in her early days. But that had been a long time ago. Anyone who’d had it in for her had had more than enough time to get even with her before now. And as for Candace’s killer? Her stepsister had made plenty of her own enemies through hard and selfish living. Besides, the past several years her path and Candace’s had barely crossed. Silver had a very hard time believing that she and Candace shared any enemy in common. Yeah, there’d been a shooting downstairs, but incidents like that weren’t unheard of in this town. Gambling did funny things to people.
Austin pulled at his ear again, looking impatient. But he said evenly enough, “What exactly do you think happened in the lobby?”
“We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing more. Somebody snapped under heavy gambling losses or got ditched by one of our showgirls.”
“Silver,