Page 6 of Sasha’s Secret

Pride warred with desire—the former protested against what could be interpreted as a slur against his ability, while the latter was greedy for any excuse to keep her close. “Are you sure you’ll have time?”

“I’ll make time.”

Rocco’s inner caveman roared in triumph. “In that case, you’re welcome. We also need to schedule a meeting so you can take me through what you’ve found that triggered your suspicions, and why. I’ve had a look at some of the messages and posts, but I’d appreciate your insight.”

“No problem. We can fit that in whenever it’s convenient for you. As I said, my role here is twenty-four seven.”

* * *

“Some of the staff live on site in one of the other homes on the estate, while the third is used for guest accommodation. Linzi lives here in the main house, of course, and there’s a wing set aside for core members of her domestic and administrative staff.”

Sasha remained as professional as she’d ever been during her career, but inwardly, she was still reeling from the initial impression Rocco Equizi had made on her as he emerged from behind his SUV.

Truthfully, she’d been expecting bulging muscles and an IQ that was too small to be allowed out unaccompanied, but what she’d gotten was the hottest man she’d laid eyes on in a long time and a primal force to be reckoned with. Even his smooth stride suggested the feline power and grace of a panther. Giving a guided tour of the multi-million-dollar mansion while fighting a losing battle against the onslaught of visceral attraction was proving every bit as difficult as infiltrating the cartel in Colombia.

Before the tour started properly, Sasha had suggested they take a swift detour to Rocco’s on-site accommodation. Although he was due to meet Linzi in less than thirty minutes, there was still enough time for him to take a preliminary look around. The meeting itself was likely to be short and not necessarily sweet, and Rocco was unlikely to gain much from it. Linzi lived in her own little world, where she was the queen, living her life with the carefree abandon of an overindulged child, doing what she wanted, when she wanted. When performing, she relied on Sasha to ensure she was where she was supposed to be when she was supposed to be there; at all other times, Sasha’s role was to organize her day-to-day life and cater to her whims.

“Including you?” Rocco asked.

Maybe this was going to be more difficult than the cartel. Rocco would be one hell of a distraction—if she allowed it. Sasha risked a sideways glance. “And you, now. As I said, my role theoretically means being on call twenty-four hours a day, so it makes sense for me to be close by. Your role is to protect her, so it makes sense for you to stay here, rather than in the guest house.”

“Do you often get a summons at zero two hundred, then?”

“Not really, at least not in the way you mean. If she’s on a high after a late-night show, she might take a while to come back down, in which case none of us hit the sack much before zero four hundred.”

“Sounds as if you don’t get much sleep when that happens.”

Sasha shrugged. “The day kind of just moves to the right for a few hours. You get used to it, and it’s not as if I haven’t worked crazy hours or gone without sleep before.”

“Oh? What did you do before this?”

Although the question sounded casual enough, the interest behind it was clearly anything but. “I guess you could call it crisis management. Crises rarely keep office hours. Anyway, in addition to keeping you close to Linzi, I thought it might be useful for you to have a suite along the hall from mine. I figured we might need to liaise on various aspects of your investigation. Here we are.”

She’d made the decision for practical reasons when Gerry had first talked about hiring a security consultant. It was for those same reasons she’d also decided to make room for him to work alongside her in her spacious office. Would she have made the same decisions if she’d known her hormones were going to go crazy at the sight of some of the finest eye candy she’d seen in a long time? Her head wanted to say no, but she didn’t believe it for one minute.

In common with the place Sasha called home—at least while she worked for Linzi—Rocco’s suite was an entirely self-contained apartment, and no expense had been spared in furnishing it. Even the kitchen had been equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, although in Sasha’s case, they were used infrequently. She had little incentive to cook for herself when Linzi employed a Cordon Bleu chef from Europe. Even his assistant could work miracles with even the most basic of ingredients. Between them, they kept the main kitchen well stocked with works of culinary art. So long as she kept up with her exercise regime, Sasha didn’t have a problem.

She watched Rocco keenly as he circled the sitting room that formed the heart of the suite. Senses honed in a previous life alerted her to the cool assessment he was making of his accommodation and the particular attention he paid to the sliding doors and private terrace beyond.

“The grounds are monitored twenty-four seven by closed circuit cameras, and there’s always two guards on duty in the control room to raise the alarm if any intruders succeed in infiltrating the estate.”

“That’s good to know.” Rocco slid open one of the doors and leaned out. “In addition to Frank Schofield, I’ll need to speak to all the members of his team. Were they background-checked before being taken on?”

Sasha told herself he didn’t know her or her previous history, so there was no way he could know she’d not only asked the question herself but had called in a few favors to double-check when her suspicions had first been aroused. “They were. I can pull the reports for you.”

He turned away from his examination of the outside space. “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Sasha paused, watching Rocco as he continued to assess his surroundings. She’d do exactly the same thing in his position. “Look, we have fifteen, twenty minutes until we go see Linzi. We can either finish looking around the house, or you can unpack and settle in, and meet me in my office when you’re ready for me to take you to the studio block.”

His dark gaze fixed on her. A woman could melt into eyes that brown and never be seen again. “I don’t want to disrupt your day any more than I have already.”

“You haven’t. I pretty much cleared my diary for today—I’m at your disposal.”

Why did the thought of being at his disposal stir up a whole load of impulses she hadn’t felt in a long time? Why did she want to read more into the subtle change in his expression that she’d probably imagined anyway? She was more professional than this.

“Thank you. Even so, I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. Shall we continue? I can unpack later.”

“That’s fine. I thought we’d start with the places where Linzi spends most of her time when she’s here. It’s probably safe to say there’s a good sixty-five, seventy percent of the grounds that she never sees or uses.”