An Unforgettable Lady (An Unforgettable Lady #1)(18)

Smith frowned.

"No offense, Countess, but do you honestly think you can keep news like this a secret? After that wedding you had?" He remembered reading about it on a plane as he flew to God only knew where. Hundreds of the world's uber-wealthy had attended the festivities in Europe. Her dress alone had cost over $100,000 if the papers had gotten the figure right.

"There are issues here at the Foundation and I need to be perceived as strong and in charge. If news of my marriage breaking up gets out now, people are going to assume I'm on the verge of an emotional breakdown."

"Are you?"

"Do I look like a nervous wreck to you?" Her voice was steady as she met his eyes in the wall of glass.



He shook his head. In that red dress, she looked enticing as hell, that's what she looked like.

The harsh laugh came again. "Good. I've learned in the last month to relish that particular illusion."

"Why don't we sit down," he said, abruptly. "You look like you're about to fall over."

Those graceful shoulders moved back and he waited for her to fight him. She would no sooner admit she was tired than she'd let out the fear she was holding in so tightly.

But instead of arguing, she settled behind a large desk and he took a seat across from her. He waited for her to speak again, waited for her to formally ask the question he was prepared to answer.



* * *



Grace was determined not to break down in front of Smith but she felt as if she might shatter and fall to pieces at any moment.

She'd spent the preceding hours thinking about how to best take care of herself and the only answer she came up with involved him. When she'd left the Met, but couldn't bring herself to go home because she was scared to be alone, she'd dialed his cell phone number.

He was the one she wanted, the only one. He was a tough ass, hardheaded son of a bitch capable of making a killer turn and flee. He would keep her safe. With him protecting her, maybe she could get through a day without having an anxiety attack. Maybe she'd be able to concentrate on her job again. Maybe she could have part of her life back.

Her eyes flickered over to him. He'd chosen a chair just beyond the pool of light cast by the desk lamp. He looked dangerous in the shadows, so still and watchful. She couldn't see his eyes but knew they were on her. Even in the midst of her fear, she felt a surge of warmth and had to remind herself they had business to discuss.

Grace cleared her throat. "I'd like to hire you."

She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

He shifted in the chair, his leather jacket creaking softly.

"How far are you willing to go?"

"What do you mean?"

"What accommodations are you willing to make? "

Her eyebrows rose. "As in?"

Impatience flared in his tone. "Changing your schedule. Restricting your activities. Leaving the city."

Her eyes widened. "I can't leave the Foundation. We're getting ready for the Gala and—"

Smith shook his head resolutely and began to get up from the chair.

"Wait a minute." Grace put some command in the words. " Where are you going ?"

He froze, suspended by his arms over the seat of the chair. The look he gave her told her he wasn't used to being ordered around.

"I mean, please don't leave. You're the best. And I want the best." More softly, she added, "I need you."

He got to his feet and looked down at her from his full height. When he put his hands on his hips, his jacket stretched tightly across his shoulders.

No doubt he was all solid muscle, she thought. Actually, she already knew that, having been against him. Held by him.

The swirling desire that broke through her anxiety wasn't an improvement and she wanted to curse. Why couldn't she be blindsided by calm? Tackled by a wave of peacefulness? Swept off her feet by tranquility and relaxation?

But no. Her relief pitcher was lust.

"Please," she said. "Don't go."

"Lady, I'm the best because my clients tend to live longer lives. The reason is because they do what I tell them to." His tone was bored, even though his expression was intense. "I have zero interest in arguing with a client over what I have to do to keep them alive,"

"You don't understand." Grace got up so she could at least come close to looking him in the eye. "I need to be here right now."

"You'd rather plan a party than take care of yourself?" His voice was dark with disapproval as he began to turn away. "Look, I can recommend someone who'll do what you want. There are plenty of big pieces of meat who can trail after you."

She rushed around the side of the desk, placing herself between him and the door.

"Hear me out." Before he could argue, she pointed to the bust on the desk. "That's my father. I'm in this office because he's dead but only because he said so. I'm at war with the board and his second in command. I leave now and I get put out to pasture as a figurehead.

"I've got a bunch of throwbacks in my boardroom. My father's right-hand man is turning them against me because he wants to be in charge. If I disappear now, I'm going to lose control of this foundation because they're going to push me out. It will be the first time a Hall hasn't been in charge and I can't let that happen." Her eyes implored him. "There's a lot more at stake than just a party. But I just can't live in fear any longer. It's killing me."