Personal Protector. Debra Webb
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of the dead cars and then scurried away. “That about sums it up, I think.”
Gone was the easy smile and the teasing glimmer in those dark eyes. Piper saw the glimpse of sadness before he closed his expression. She frowned. Surely Mr. I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good wasn’t the sentimental type. Before Piper could make a decision on that possibility, the voice of Mr. Jackson, one of her interviewees, called out to her as he and the other residents he’d rounded up ambled closer.
“That sounds good, Martinez,” she told him before turning away. It actually sounded better than good; it was precisely what she would have said herself. But she wasn’t about to admit it and give him one more thing to enlarge that already-overblown ego.
“Whatever your heart desires, querida.”
Piper ignored the extrafoolish beat of her heart that invariably accompanied his persistent use of the Spanish endearment. She absolutely would not let this cocky Casanova get under her skin.
“THE SITUATION IS under control, Mr. Camp.” Ric kicked off his shoes as he crossed the living room of his temporary apartment to lower the volume on the television. “No, man, I’m telling you I was on top of the situation.”
Ric blew out a breath as Lucas Camp continued to re-hash this morning’s events on the other end of the line. Jack Raine had been poised from his point position to take out the guy with the gun, but Martinez had gotten to him first. Which was okay with all concerned since it left Raine in an anonymous position and the would-be shooter alive to be interrogated. But Lucas Camp hadn’t been happy that the bastard had gotten that close to his niece without encountering resistance. Outside of forcing Piper to ride in a bulletproof vehicle, there wasn’t any way to prevent the same thing from happening again. And she refused to change her routine. Allowing the Feds to follow her around was the extent of her concession.
If she discovered that her dear old uncle had not one, but two, additional personal protectors in place, she would likely go berserk. The woman had no intention of making Ric’s job easy. She was dead set on maintaining her normal routine. As much as he hated to admit it, Ric respected her for her courage.
Most, male or female, would have cowered in fear under much less threatening circumstances. But not Piper Ryan. She didn’t intend to let the bad guys win. As risky as it was, she wasn’t backing down in the least. A smile slid across Ric’s face. She was one tough lady for a spoiled little rich girl. He suddenly wondered what events in her life had given her that much backbone. He doubted she would ever share anything that personal with him, but his respect for her had grown somewhat today. She wasn’t just another pretty face on the television screen.
“She doesn’t know it was me,” Ric assured him when Lucas asked if Piper had recognized him outside her car that morning. “My cover is intact. She thinks I’m some sort of Casanova.”
Definitely the wrong thing to say. Ric regretted using the term immediately. “No, man, I am not flirting with your niece,” Ric lied. As far as he could tell, flirting with Piper Ryan was the only way he’d found to throw her off guard, to make real contact. She clearly did not allow anyone close. He wondered about that. She was young, beautiful and wildly popular with the viewing audience. But on a personal level, an introvert if he’d ever seen one.
“Yes, sir, I won’t take my eyes off her,” he said in response to Camp’s final warning. Ric punched the off button on his cell phone and tossed it onto the sofa. The man Ric had tackled this morning had no previous record, and he wasn’t talking. Since he didn’t sport the usual shield tattoo on his right bicep, there was no way to know if SSU had sent him, or if he was somehow related to the gang series Piper was doing. Or, hell, he could just be a nut case trying to make the evening news. Whatever his motivation, the threat had been neutralized. Lucas was royally ticked that he couldn’t talk Piper into going into seclusion. Prior to calling Ric, he had apparently spent the last thirty minutes trying to convince her to take a leave of absence from her work.
“You’re one headstrong lady, querida,” Ric murmured distractedly as he unbuttoned his shirt. He’d ruined one of his favorite shirts this morning, and had to change before he got to the station. He shouldered out of his shirt and tossed it onto the back of the sofa, then started to unfasten his slacks when Piper’s face on the screen grabbed his attention. The segment lasted less than four minutes but it was very good. Ric gave himself a mental pat on the back for his videography. He unzipped his pants and headed for the bathroom. He supposed he could always be a cameraman if Lucas Camp got him fired from the Colby Agency for flirting with his niece. A vision, including her pretty face, especially those lush lips, instantly loomed large in his mind.
Ric needed a shower. If he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from the woman next door, it might be in his best interest to take a cold shower. The signal was set loudly enough that if Piper decided to leave her apartment while he was in the shower, Ric would hear the alarm. But she wasn’t scheduled to go anywhere for another hour. He had time. And since he couldn’t keep his eyes on her every waking moment without blowing his cover, he’d had to wire her apartment to ensure he knew her every move—or anyone else’s who might try to go through the Feds and enter the premises.
Considering his sore shoulder, he opted for the hot shower after all. The pavement had been hard, and his shoulder had taken the brunt of the fall when he’d slammed into the guy with the gun aimed at Piper. Ric scrubbed his hands through his hair and allowed the relaxing spray to flow over his tense muscles. The image of Piper Ryan, all five feet four curvy inches of her, filled his head once more. He had not expected the physical attraction between them to be so fierce. He’d thoroughly read her file. She’d grown up in the lap of luxury, was educated at a fancy private college and had all but been an overnight television success. Atlanta’s sweetheart.
The complete opposite in every way with Ric’s upbringing. He’d grown up in the Projects on the south side of Chicago. He’d had to fight his way out of that barrio, and only the kind of drive and fortitude borne of desperation and alien to the likes of Piper Ryan had saved him. In her world she stood head and shoulders above the rest when it came to determination and courage, but she wouldn’t last five minutes in the world he’d known as a kid.
Ric leaned against the cool tile wall and forced that old bitterness from his thoughts. He wasn’t envious of people like Piper, only impatient with their way of thinking. He knew what she probably thought about him. Though she was physically attracted to him, she saw him as a lesser person somehow because they hadn’t attended the same Ivy League schools, because he wasn’t the refined gentleman with whom she preferred to associate.
He swore at his foolish reverie and shut off the spray of water. It wasn’t Piper’s fault she’d had it all as a kid, no more than it was his that he hadn’t. And Ric had no intention of letting that old chip climb back onto his shoulder. He had a job to do. Protecting the princess next door. This was an up-close-and-personal assignment and he would simply have to get over the social differences between them. He could be judging her too harshly. He knew better than to fit her into the same mold with the types he’d been forced to tolerate in his youth. It was just as wrong as those who’d lumped him in with every bad boy in his neighborhood.
Ric shook his head. Hell, he thought he’d gotten over that inferiority complex long ago. The past was just that; he couldn’t change it…didn’t want to really. Those tough years had made him a better man. He didn’t like being judged based on how others from the barrio had failed, no more than he was certain Piper would want to be held accountable for what some of her royal crowd had turned into.
The high-pitched tone of the motion detector warned him that the subject of his contemplation had just opened her door. Ric hissed a curse and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. She wasn’t supposed to make a move for at least another forty-five minutes. Piper’s neighbor had worried that he’d promised to attend some sort of charity function with her tonight. Camp had told him he would take care of informing Piper of the sudden change in plans. It would be just Ric’s luck that Piper had decided she needed a pair of panty hose or something, which would require her to leave early.
Before he could consider what the hell he would say to stop