The Mogul and the Muscle: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(26)

We stepped into a world of soft pink paneling and gold accents. Venini chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their nineteen-seventies style just on the fashionable side of gaudy. Leopard print rugs with pink borders decorated the floor.

I pretended to be completely absorbed in the displays of lacy bras and panties, but I kept an eye on Jude, sneaking glances at him from my peripheral vision. He took up a position partway inside the store, probably where he had the best view.

Just doing his job.

A few other women wandered through the store. I took slow steps, pausing to brush my fingers over a sheer nightie. I found a gorgeous nude and black bra that would leave very little to the imagination.

I pulled it off the display and stepped in front of a mirror. Jude was behind me, arms crossed over his chest, that same stony expression on his face.

I held up the bra and tilted my head, like I was considering how it would fit. My eyes flicked to Jude.

No change.

He really was a brick wall.

I put the bra back and glanced at a few more things. My circuit brought me close to Jude. Pausing again, I ran my fingers over a very naughty rose gold cuff and choker set. The shiny metal cuffs were connected to a black braided rope. Luxury kink.

My eyes darted to Jude again. Nothing.

Except I caught sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with a hard swallow and a tiny bead of sweat glistened on his forehead. In the air-conditioned store.

There was a man under there. Interesting.

“We can go,” I said, taking my hand off the cuff and choker set.

He cleared his throat and nodded.

Brandy had been right. Having a bodyguard wasn’t all that bad. At least when I could have a little fun with him.





11





Jude





I sat at my desk outside Cameron’s office. So far, there hadn’t been any new threats. No suspicious activity. Business as usual for her. A lot of standing around and waiting for me. Which was fine. I was used to it.

Shopping with her had been… interesting. Not once in five years of doing this job had I been this intensely attracted to a client. But Cameron Whitbury was getting under my skin.

I couldn’t let that happen.

But those fucking red heels.

Watching her try on shoes had been one thing. Her long legs were amazing. But when she’d put on those sexy red shoes, I’d seen the slightest change in her. Her hips had swayed, and she’d slid her hands down her thighs while she checked her reflection in the full-length mirror. Confident. Gorgeous.

Mine.

She wasn’t, nor was she ever going to be. But the thought had hit me hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. I’d recovered well. I was sure she hadn’t noticed. But it had been difficult to keep my cool.

And then the vixen had taken me into a lingerie store.

That move had been to fuck with me, clearly. I’d seen the glint of mischief in her eyes when she’d said she had one more stop.

It made me want to spank that magnificent ass of hers.

Despite the way my dick was trying to take over the show, I wasn’t going to let any of this get in the way of me doing my job.

I had Derek’s people looking into Cameron’s ex and Noelle Olson. I skimmed the first set of information they’d sent. On the surface, Aldrich Leighton was squeaky clean. No scandals. No affairs. No record of bad rich boy behavior in college. He’d never been married. He made appearances at elite social events regularly, most recently with a much younger Brazilian model on his arm. But there was something tickling the back of my neck, a sense that this perfect image was just that—too perfect.

Was he the kind of man to attempt revenge on an ex?

Noelle Olson had a similarly clean public image. She’d been with Spencer for fifteen years. Worked her way up from middle management. Married and divorced, with one child, now in college. Although she was free of scandals or any public record of bad behavior, Brandy had forwarded me copies of enough angry emails she’d sent to Cameron to wallpaper half the office.

This woman clearly had a grudge. She pitted herself against Cameron regularly, over issues big and small. But her habit of making Cameron’s life difficult didn’t mean she’d go so far as to hurt her.

I’d gathered a dossier on Bobby Spencer, too. According to both Cameron and Brandy, he didn’t have a motive. But he’d sent up a flag when I’d met him, and despite the fact that it was looking more and more like Cameron didn’t have anything to worry about, I wanted to be thorough.

His background was far more colorful. Bobby Spencer had been living the rich playboy life since high school. A regular in the gossip rags. There were stories about his obnoxious behavior and paparazzi photos of him partying in cities all over the world. He was the sort of guy who expected to be ushered to the front of the line, let in to every exclusive club and event based on his last name and the zeroes in his trust fund.

But why would a hard-partying rich boy want to hurt Cameron? The guy had it made. He’d never have to work a day in his life, and Cameron posed no threat to his decadent lifestyle.

No motive.

Corporate espionage was harder to trace, at least without a solid suspect. So far, I hadn’t found any connections between any key staff members at Spencer and anyone at Reese Howard. I’d have to cast my net a little wider. See if I caught anything.