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“This apartment isn’t any safer than it was when someone broke in. I’m in charge of your security. What kind of job would I be doing if I allowed you to put yourself in a vulnerable position?”
Iris’s fingers flexed on her knees, and her chest rose violently as she sucked in a deep breath. She stared straight ahead, not sparing me a glance. The air around her vibrated, like a bomb on the brink of exploding.
Rising to her bare feet, she pressed a hand to her chest. In a low voice just as level as the one I’d used, she said, “Consider your words,” and strode from the room.
Iris’s sudden, extreme reaction stunned me at first. But after a minute of standing in the complete silence of her apartment, I remembered how tense she’d become when Saul had ordered her to set up an appointment with me.
She didn’t like being told what to do.
I made my way through the living room, down a short hall to her bedroom. She wasn’t in sight, but I heard water running behind a closed door, which I assumed was her bathroom. I stayed in the doorway, giving her privacy while taking a visual catalog of the space.
Big by city standards, tall windows flooded the room with light, filtered by gauzy white drapes. Her wrought iron four-poster bed was the centerpiece. The headboard was made of crisscrossing metal slats. Without conscious effort, the image of Iris’s wrists bound to the metal crossed my mind, causing a rush of blood to pool below my waist.
Iris came out of the bathroom, startling slightly when she noticed me. Her face looked freshly scrubbed, blue eyes even brighter than normal.
I drummed my fingers on the wall beside her door. “I’ve considered my words.”
She sat on the edge of her bed and picked up a bottle of lotion from her side table.
“Have you?” She poured a dollop into her palm and rubbed it over her hands.
“Iris.” I exhaled through my nose, waiting for her to give me her attention. If she insisted on being petulant, taking everything I said personally, then this wouldn’t work. I didn’t play games, no matter how attractive the other player was.
She shifted on the mattress to face me. “I know you’re used to this sort of thing, but this is brand new to me. I grew up in the city and like to think I’m street smart, though I might be a little morelaissez-fairethan I should. You don’t know me yet, but I’m a tough girl. It takes a lot to get to me, but this whole ordeal has really thrown me for a loop.”
I nodded, again surprised by her. I’d worked with several celebrities, and not many were as self-aware as that. The same was true for most regular people too.
“That makes sense. I apologize for not being more understanding. I take my job seriously, as you’ve surely noticed. If possible, I’d like you to give me a few more days to implement your new security plan. If not, I’ll have to insist I stay here with you until then.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You’ll insist, huh? We’ll have a cute little sleepover?”
I tucked my hands in my pockets. If I kept them loose, I might’ve given her thecute littleshake she was asking for.
“You’ll sleep. I’ll guard.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How many days?”
“By the end of the week.” It was a big promise, but I doubted I’d get more days out of her.
She puffed out her cheeks and huffed a breath. “Okay. I’m sure Adam won’t mind if I stay there a little longer. His building is like Fort Knox. No monsters will find me.”
“These aren’t monsters. A very real person came into your apart—”
“I know!” She dug her hands into the side of her head. “God, of course I know that. Remember the thing I said a minute ago about being thrown for a loop? I cope by making light of it. That doesn’t mean Ifeellight about it.” She bounced on her mattress. “See this bullshit? I used to have an amazing bed until some cowardly little bitch decided to hack it to bits. Now, I have this consolation prize mattress. It makes me want to scream, Ronan.”
Gratified to see she actually gave a damn, I took a few steps into her room and immediately realized my mistake. Beneath the fresh-paint smell was warm honey. Her entire bedroom smelled of it, like I’d stepped into a honey pot. It was probably her lotion, or some type of oil, not a scent her skin naturally exuded, but knowing that didn’t help in any way.
“I saw the pictures of what was done to your things. It looked personal.”
“Do the police just go around handing out crime scene photos like candy?” She smoothed the hair she’d ruffled. “Geesh.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Not that I know of. My contact has worked with LSS and me personally for several years. I’m the only one who has seen the pictures.”
Crossing the room, I checked the locks on her windows, disgusted by how flimsy they were. My assumption had been right: anyone with a modicum of desire could make their way inside. Iris would not be staying here tonight—or any night until I put this right. She could buck and fight and fire my arse, but that wouldn’t change things.
“I do think it was personal.” Her voice was soft, wavering, pulling my attention from the worthless locks in time to witness her sucking on her bottom lip. “That’s why I thought it had to be Logan. I can’t think of anyone else who’s been that angry at me.”
“No other lovers?” I told myself it wasn’t out of bounds for me to ask that. Knowing who might want to harm her was within the parameters of my employment. It was not to sate a personal curiosity.
