Sweet Possession (Sweet #5)(8)

It would seem that nothing the woman did was shielded from the world, and worse, she seemed perfectly okay with that.

He downed the last of his brew and shoved the empty bottle across the bar. As he glanced sideways, he saw her come in. To his surprise, she wasn’t accompanied by her bodyguards. Not very smart.

She was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a regular white T-shirt. There wasn’t a hint of pink in her hair and not a spot of makeup dotted her face. She looked remarkably clean-cut and wholesome. Good grief.

Her fingers were shoved into her jeans pockets, and she looked around warily. Unease billowed off her body in a cloud. She looked uncertain, and again he was struck by the odd vulnerability he had glimpsed during her last number at the concert. Clearly he was losing his mind.

Finally her gaze locked on to his and he lifted his hand in greeting. Her eyes glazed over, and it was as if she locked the attitude in place. The cockiness was back in spades.

She twisted her lips and sauntered over, throwing her bag over the bar stool as she slid up to the bar beside him.

“Nice place,” she drawled.

“I think so.” He held up a finger and motioned to the barkeep. “Drink?” he asked her when the bartender walked over.

“Just water.”

“Beer and a water,” Connor ordered.

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the scarred wood of the bar. As she wiggled her body to move closer so she could lean, he caught a whiff of her perfume. To his surprise it smelled soft, nice even. He would have expected something strong and overpowering. Like her.

“So,” she said as she made a V with her fingers and pressed them to her lips. “Here we are.”

Connor nodded.

She sighed and turned sideways to look at him. “Look, let’s at least be honest. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. Neither of us wants to be here and you don’t want to babysit me any more than I want a goddamn nanny.”

Despite himself, he chuckled. He couldn’t help it.

“Not bothering to deny it, are you?” she said dryly.

He shook his head. “Nope. Don’t see the point in blowing smoke up your ass.”

She sighed again. “I’m guessing you weren’t given any more choice than I was.”

“Nope.”

“Not a man of many words, are you?”

He shrugged. “You pretty much said it all.”

“Well, it’s obvious that we aren’t going to be best friends forever, so why don’t we sit here for a few minutes, you can have a beer or two, and then we can leave and pretend we played nice?”

Connor smiled and, though it pained him, he found himself not quite hating the thought of spending a few more minutes with her.

“I can play nice for a few minutes,” he conceded.

She snorted. “You mean if we ignore each other.”

His smile widened. He glanced over her again, noting the absent flash and glitz. “You look . . . different.”

She cast him a baleful stare. “Just in case you think that the pink hair and flashy clothes are just part of the stage show and that underneath I’m this really nice, boring girl, let me dissuade you of that notion. I just didn’t want to get my ass kicked by coming into a place like this in anything but good-ole-boy gear.”

Connor was fascinated by the snarl on her lips. It almost looked cute. Then he shook his head. She had as much personality as a pit bull and the pit bull was probably friendlier.

She spread her hands and turned up her palms in a supreme “I don’t give a f**k” gesture. “What you see is what you get.”

“Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?”

Anger flashed over her face and her eyes narrowed. He could get off on pissing her off. She rose to the bait so easily.

“Just tell me what it is you’re supposed to do for me so we can get this over with,” she muttered.

Connor studied her for a moment, her stiff posture, her obvious discomfort being here with him. She shouldn’t have come alone, especially not in light of the details he’d gotten from Phillip.

“How bad has it been?” he asked bluntly.

She looked up, her blue eyes flashing in surprise. Then she shrugged. “You’ve talked to Phillip and Barry, I’m sure.”

“They haven’t been with you,” Connor pointed out. “A few visits on the road and phone calls from their office don’t count. Not with me. If I’m going to be responsible for your safety, then I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with.”

For a moment it seemed her shell cracked, and he could see the lines of fatigue grooved around her eyes.

“It’s not as bad as they make it out to be. I bring a lot of it on myself.” She lifted one small shoulder in a gesture of indifference. “I never wanted to surround myself so tightly with security that the public couldn’t get in. But now . . .”

“It’s too much,” Connor guessed.

“It’s exhausting. There have been a few threats.”

“And Phillip wants to crack down, not make you so accessible.”

Lyric nodded.

“So tell me. How hard is my job going to be?”

A small smile curved the corners of her mouth upward. “I won’t lie to you. I’m used to doing things my way.”