Deadly Testimony (Safeguard #2)(41)

The open vulnerability lasted only a moment, then she recovered and scowled at him. “Pants.”

Not a response he’d anticipated. But then, it was part of why he enjoyed her company. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Excuse me?”

“From here on out, you need to be wearing at least pants.” She stayed rooted where she was, back to the door with her arms now crossed.

Other women did it with calculated intent to enhance what assets they had. When Lizzy took on the posture, it indicated a completely different attitude and seemed generally the time to cede with prudent haste.

The pants he had on the bed were his suit pants. They’d do for the time being but he’d probably wear sweatpants the next time he chose to work out.

He picked up the pants then turned to her, holding them loosely in one hand. She might make the decisions when it came to his safety, but in this, he was going to point out the ridiculous. “I have limited clothing and I doubt you’d want to allow me to make use of the hotel’s dry cleaning service. I thought it best to minimize the need for laundering by working out in my boxer briefs. At least these, I can rinse in the sink as a minimal effort to keep my clothing somewhat less soiled.”

An exasperated sigh let loose and she dropped her arms to her side. “Point taken. It would still be a lot better if you had pants on.”

A momentary pang hit him, right where his pride should be. Normally would be. But he found with Lizzy, all sorts of things were amusing he’d never noticed before and other quirks of hers were endearing where he would normally be grinding his teeth and posturing for control of a situation. She spun his perspective around and set it off-kilter.

And here he was, sure he was considered an attractive male to most women of the interested orientation, hurt because Lizzy wanted him to put his pants on.

Or...

Want and prefer could be two very different things. In fact, one tended to be more honest than the other.

While Lizzy had been quite brutally candid and straightforward with him from the very beginning, he was getting the impression she tended to avoid it with herself.

“We are two grown adults, to the best of my knowledge.” He watched her carefully as her eyes strayed back to her laptop. It wasn’t just that she was dedicated to her work, he thought, it was a refuge for her. Especially from things she didn’t want to pay attention to. Like him. “Is it really that much of a distraction for me to be walking around in my boxer briefs? Surely your teammates and you have done the same in certain times of rest.”

Her lips pressed together, pursed, as her gaze remained on the laptop.

“Dare I ask whether most of the men you work with wear boxers or briefs?” His amusement was leaking into his voice now and he didn’t bother to hold it back. She wasn’t angry with him. If anything she was giving way little by little, her shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly. “Or do they go...commando?”

He might even see the corner of her mouth lifting. Maybe. A tiny bit.

This was not the time to be jealous. He had no reason to be. Wasn’t sure if he wanted one. But pondering whether her teammates wore underwear or not wasn’t having the intended outcome in his own damned brain.

He’d really prefer to consider what she tended to wear. Or not. “Do you go commando?”

Temper sparked in those chocolate-brown eyes and she glared at him. “Seriously?”

Inordinately pleased with having succeeded in baiting her, he took a step toward her. “Hard to know what a person prefers under their clothing.”

She might be counting to ten under her breath. “Not a good idea to go without under a combat uniform. Foundation garments are key.”

“For comfort or for practicality as well?” He hadn’t expected her to play along with this line of conversation but he was delighted. Discussion with her never seemed to go where he thought it would.

Her eyes narrowed. “Both. Especially for women. A good bra helps in a lot of ways on an active day.”

He could imagine too much, and the way she was staring at him just about dared him to make an ill-advised comment regarding her mention of a bra. No. The both of them could take unexpected turns in conversation. Keep things lively.

“When you’re not on assignment protecting people, what do you do to keep up your level of fitness?” He’d honestly been curious in any case.

“I work out every day,” she admitted, her tone wry. “Even on this assignment I did a modified workout while you were showering.”

He was sorry he’d missed it.

“Why?” He could guess, but knowing her, he had a fifty-fifty chance of being incorrect.

She rolled her shoulders, possibly to ease strain across her back. “I prefer to work out alone unless I’m doing hand-to-hand drills.”

If she’d been one of the normal type of companions he spent time with, he’d have offered a massage. The suggestion was not likely to be received well in this case.

“When you mention drills, do you mean sparring?” Now there was something very interesting. Better than doing all too familiar exercises over and over again.

Her gaze fastened on him. “Serious sparring would be a bad idea. No pads, no mats.”

Kind of her, to not mention her potential level of skill as compared to his.

He gave her a nod, partially in thanks and partially in acknowledgement. “You are the professional bodyguard. More than that, you have more experience in dangerous situations. I was more curious about lighter timing drills. A more good-natured way of learning about the skills each of us might have.”