Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)(9)

“If that’s your only concern, I can stay out here.”

Cat gaped at him. “Here, the...hall?”

“Yes.”

Why wouldn’t he just room with Justice? “I could take the single and you guys could—”

“Wherever you are,” he repeated in a deep, serious tone, “that’s where I’ll be. Either in the room with you, or just outside the door.”

Justice said, “Give in, honey. Leese takes this shit far too seriously, I swear. He’ll stand out here like a guard dog all night, and then I’ll feel guilty and want to spell him, and neither of us will get any sleep.”

“I’ll sleep just fine,” she told him, though that was probably a lie too. Knowing the two of them stood vigil would keep her from resting.

“I meant Leese and me,” the hulk grouched.

“Justice,” Leese warned. “It’s her decision. Don’t pressure her.”

Yeah, God forbid she be pressured. Such a laugh. She’d had more pressure lately than any woman should have to bear.

Justice plopped down her suitcase and took two big steps to swipe up the bag of food. “Fine.” Rummaging inside, he said, “I’m at least going to eat while she decides.” He withdrew two burgers.

Justice made her feel mean, and that, too, was unusual. “Open the damn door,” she demanded.

Without questioning her, Leese did just that, holding it wide for her.

Justice, not taking any chances on her changing her mind, dug out his fries and malt too. “Glad that’s settled.” He balanced everything in the crook of one arm and deftly used his keycard. “Keep me updated,” he said before going inside and letting the door close behind him.

Leese stood there waiting for her, patience personified.

After a deep breath, she lifted her chin and strode past him.

The suite was lovely, divided into a small kitchenette, a sitting area with two couches arranged perpendicular to one another, a large television, a desk, a round table with four chairs and a small half bath. One of the couches looked to be a narrow rollaway bed. Through open glass double doors she saw a separate bedroom with a full bathroom, including a wide tub and granite shower.

One bedroom. One shower.

Great.

Leese paid no mind as he got everything into the room. He put the bags of food on the table, then carried her suitcase to the bedroom and set it at the end of the bed for her.

Cat watched as he took his own bag to the end of one couch.

A promising sign. Sort of.

“What’s it to be first?” He removed his coat and hung it neatly in the closet. “Food or talk?”

With his coat gone and his hands again on his hips, she couldn’t help focusing on that menacing gun. Had he shot anyone?

Ever?

Recently?

In her experience, most bodyguards were older, thicker. Less appealing. Given her family’s affluence, she’d grown up with them hanging around, always watching her like a prized possession.

She’d tried so hard to leave that life behind, but sadly, she’d taken just a little too long to make it happen.

“Catalina?”

Talking meant explaining, and she needed more time for that. Like...maybe a couple of days. “Food, definitely.” Then if she had to make a run for it, at least she’d have a modicum of energy.

Stripping off her coat, she tossed it toward the suitcase. Given the amount of walking she’d done, the boots were starting to pinch her feet. Hopping on first one foot and then the other, she removed them, letting them drop to the floor by the side of the bed. Enjoying the freedom, she wiggled her toes inside her socks. That felt good enough that she also peeled off the thick sweatshirt, leaving her in jeans, socks and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

She pushed back her hair, freed the band from her wrist and secured a ponytail.

More comfortable, she headed to the table and chairs, unaware of Leese staring until she glanced up to ask if he was ready to eat too.

That hot gaze of his had been all over her body, but immediately jumped to her face. “Let me.” He got close to pull out her chair, bringing with him that irresistible scent of fresh outdoors mixed with man.

She inhaled deeply.

In her old world, men were often well mannered and polite. They were also manipulative and mercenary, focused on a pampered social status that blinded them to the ugliness of reality.

The old world felt a million miles away, and nothing about Leese felt pampered. “Thank you.”

He set out the food, napkins, even opened her straw and stuck it in her malt. “Help yourself,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

When he walked away, Cat turned to watch. He prowled around the suite studying the locks on the windows and closing the drapes, even in the bedroom.

Then he left.

As the door closed behind him, she froze.

An insidious sensation—fear, worry—crawled into her soul. They were such familiar emotions, usually with her every second.

But not since meeting Leese. Not like this.

The suite that only seconds before felt warm and comfortable now felt isolated.

The door opened again and he strode in, going still when he saw her face. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Her lungs filled with air, a refreshing breath of reassurance. He hadn’t left her at all. Refusing to be pitied, she choked out, “Nothing.”