Page 73 of Tempting the Player
“I know. Not forever. Just give me a little more time. I want to be sure that whoever is behind the email isn’t going to escalate things.”
She sighs. “All right.”
“Really?” I’m shocked that she’s agreeing so easily.
“I trust your judgment. If you think this is the right call, then okay.”
I can’t fight the smile that breaks out across my face.
“But I’m still leaving for a little while. I wasn’t kidding earlier. You need a break.”
“About that, I think you should go to the party tonight.”
Her eyes widen with surprise. “Excuse me?”
I rest my hands on the car and lean forward. “I understand why you’ve been staying in and not going out. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. But you can’t stop living your life.”
“I’m not—” she starts.
“Yes, you are. And as the guy whose top concern is to keep you safe, I should be thrilled because it makes my job a whole lot easier if you stay in every night, but that’s not you.”
Her mouth falls into a straight line and she glances down.
“I know how much you want to go and have fun with your friends like you used to.”
“You can see that?” She glances at me and then away. “Guess I’m not that good of an actress anymore.”
“I just know you.”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t ask you to watch me all day and all night too.”
“You didn’t ask me to, I volunteered.”
She cocks her head to the side. “You know what I meant.”
“I do.” I grin because I can tell she’s going to give in. “Let’s go to the party tonight, Jane. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll be right there looking out for you while you cut loose and have fun with your friends. I won’t drink a drop. Neither will Archer or Brogan if I ask them to help me.”
“I don’t need three bodyguards.” She laughs lightly.
“How about one really awesome one then?”
She nods. “All right. But don’t think I didn’t notice that you turned what was supposed to be a fun night out foryouinto work.”
I chuckle as I push off from her car. “Work is fun. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
23
JANE
“Why didn’tyou let him pick you up?” Dahlia asks as we walk into her boyfriend’s house an hour later than planned. She’s a saint for waiting for me through a dozen dress changes, countless pairs of shoes, and several mini panic attacks.
“Besides the fact I wasn’t ready?” I run a hand through my hair and then smooth the straight strands back into place.
“Yeah.” She laughs softly. “Besides that.”
“I didn’t want it to be like my big brother was taking me to a party to keep an eye on me. Even if that’s the basic setup here.”
“He’s not your big brother,” she says, her blue eyes boring into me and then dipping lower to my outfit. “No way he’s going to see you in that dress and have any brotherly feelings at all. Trust me.”
