Chapter One



“Tell me, Mr. Johannson. Did you see ‘bordello’ anywhere on our sign? A modest ‘house of ill repute,’ maybe?” Lissa shifted in her chair, staring at the man across the desk. He certainly looked normal. Dressed in a conservative, charcoal gray suit, his light brown hair neatly cut and styled, he was the epitome of the modern day businessman. Except the job he’d just offered was, hands down, the craziest request she’d ever had, one that made her very nervous.

When the man leaned forward, his brown eyes intent, her hand automatically edged toward the gun nestled under her staid suit jacket. Weirdoes came in all shapes and sizes.

“Miss Carter, Safety First is my last chance. My client could be in serious danger. He received another letter, but the police won’t do anything about it. They think it’s a prank, a fan with a sick sense of humor. I just keep seeing John Lennon lying on the sidewalk in front of his hotel. You have to help me.”

She let her hand slide away from the gun, a twinge of sympathy running through her at the man’s distress. “If you wanted a standard contract I’d consider it, Mr. Johannson. Safety First has provided bodyguard service for many famous and wealthy people with great success. We may not be the biggest agency in New York, but we’re good. However, agreeing to be this man’s mistress is a little outside our usual procedures.”

Okay, that was a bit of an understatement. It was a lot outside their usual procedures. She’d worked her butt off for six years making Safety First the respectable, prosperous company it was today. Nothing would make her jeopardize the business by taking a job like this one. Her sympathy only went so far.

Steve Johannson slumped back in the chair and ran a hand over his face. “You don’t understand. Ian refuses to hire a bodyguard. He thinks having someone in the house will disrupt his writing. He doesn’t even want a mistress. The only reason he suggested it was because he thought I couldn’t find one. It was a ploy to get me off his back.” He shifted slightly. “There isn’t exactly an abundance of female bodyguards, and the few I have managed to convince, he’s sent away as unsuitable.”

“Ian?”

“Ian Conner. The best selling author.”

Lissa’s body tensed. No, it couldn’t be. She’d heard him wrong. Heat flushed her cheeks and she barely restrained herself from squirming in her chair. Steady girl, she thought.

There was no way this man could read her mind, know about the poster tacked to the inside of her closet door. Or know that the only orgasms she’d achieved in the last few years had been courtesy of the fantasies she’d spun around the Scottish hunk. God, what a man.

And now his agent wanted her to be the hunk’s mistress.

She licked her lips before she caught Johannson’s amused expression.

“He affects most women that way.”

Carefully, she schooled her features and lied through her teeth. “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Johannson. Regardless, my answer still stands. We don’t sell sex, we sell protection. If your client changes his mind, feel free to give us a call.”

As though sensing a crack in her façade, he straightened. “I’m prepared to offer you a substantial bonus above your usual fee.”

Lissa hesitated, her hands going still on the papers she was straightening. “A bonus?”

“Yes.”

The figure he named made her jaw drop. “Boy, you really are desperate, aren’t you?”

“Desperate?” He sighed. “If I thought begging would help, I’d be prostrate at your feet right now. Ian isn’t just a client, he’s my best friend. You’re exactly what he needs.”

Her mind spun, and again she hesitated. “Why me, Mr. Johannson?”

He crossed one well-shod foot over his knee. “I checked Safety First out very carefully before I called for an appointment. I know your employees are the best trained in the business. Some of the biggest industrialists in the state swear by your services. You’ve developed quite a reputation for getting things done, Miss Carter. You’re smart and savvy. If anyone can protect Ian, it’s you.”

Temptation had her heart pounding, her nerves tingling. She gave her head a tiny shake. What the hell was she thinking?

That damn poster. That’s what she was thinking about.

Warily, she eyed the man opposite her. “Not that I’m even remotely considering this job, but out of curiosity, what makes you think he wouldn’t send me packing like he’s done everyone else?”

Johannson smiled. “He won’t. This time, I have a plan.”

Without thinking, Lissa licked her lips again. Her hormones went into a wild version of the happy dance every time she thought of Ian Conner. Would it be such a sacrifice to actually sleep with him? Especially when there was the money to consider. Money she needed badly if she were going to help her sister save her fledgling clothing boutique. Safety First was lucrative, but it had got that way because every penny not needed for survival was plowed back into the business. There was none left over to play with.

The cash offer, combined with heated images of the man on the poster, was enough to have her lips trembling eagerly, acceptance of the job ready to spill out. Until reality came crashing down with a harsh thump. It took an effort to stifle her groan of frustration.

What about her reputation? If something like this got out, she’d never get another job. It was hard enough being a woman in the security business as it was.

No, she couldn’t risk it. There was still time for her to get the money another way. She only had to figure out how.

Standing to indicate the meeting was over, she smoothed sweat-dampened hands over her skirt. “I’m really sorry I can’t help you, Mr. Johannson.”

Following her example, he also rose to his feet. He looked tired, defeated, but apparently he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He reached into his wallet and extracted a card, handing it across the desk. “If you change your mind, Miss Carter, give me a call at any of those numbers.”

Without glancing at the white rectangle, she stuck it in her pocket. “I won’t change my mind.” She watched him walk to the door and vanish down the hall, taking the chance to make all her fantasies come true with him.

She nibbled her bottom lip in annoyance. It was insane to even consider his offer. What did she know about being a mistress? She hadn’t even dated in the last two years.

Annoyance faded as she thought about the poster, and a smile curved her lips. Maybe she couldn’t actually do the job, but boy, could she get some mileage out of the images it inspired. A shiver of excitement shimmied along her nerves. No one could stop her from dreaming.



* * * * *

Lissa slid out of her jacket and tossed it on the bed before unfastening her shoulder holster. She probably didn’t need to wear the gun all the time, but she’d become so used to it when she worked for the bureau that she felt naked without it. Only in the safety of her own home did she feel comfortable taking it off.

Placing it on the top shelf in her closet where Samantha, her three-year-old niece, couldn’t reach it, she pulled off her silk blouse and stepped out of her skirt, reaching for one of the worn athletic tops she wore around the house.

Holding the top in her hand, she turned and came face to face with the man who had caused her so much regret today. Her eyes moved slowly over the poster, drinking in his bare upper torso, tanned muscles nearly rippling off the paper.

God, he was gorgeous. But in a rough, male animal kind of way. In the picture, he was wearing skintight black pants that hung low on his hips and did nothing to hide the prominent bulge a few inches lower. Bare from the waist up, his sleekly muscled arms were crossed over a broad, tan chest decorated with a line of black curls that vanished into his waistband in a plunging vee. A wide silver band circled his left wrist. Her mouth watered every time she looked at the poster. The only other article of clothing in the pose was a pair of leather moccasins that laced to his knees and defined manly calves.

They must have had a fan going, because his shoulder-length, raven hair was blowing in a tangled halo around his head, blue-black highlights glimmering.

He stood with his feet braced apart, his expression fierce, almost barbaric, and it never failed to send waves of longing over her. A man like that would know how to make love to a woman. A man like that would take charge and make his partner like it. He wouldn’t allow his lover to hold back on her emotions. No matter how deep they were buried.

“Oh, yeah,” she whispered as her nipples puckered. She skimmed a finger over one, feeling it harden to a painfully tight knot as pleasure streaked downward. “Looks like the old vibrator is going to get a workout tonight.”

Moisture pooled between her legs at the thought, and she ran her fingers lower, scraping a fingernail over her swollen clitoris. Her body clenched hard at the touch. Maybe she wouldn’t wait until tonight. Maybe she’d just plunk down in front of the full-length mirror right now, while it was still light enough to see him.

Deliciously, her finger moved in a slow circle, her hips thrusting forward as she watched in the mirror. She’d heard a real orgasm beat the mechanical ones hands down, but she had no basis for comparison. The few men she’d dated all seemed to be of the old “wham, bam, thank you, Ma’am” school of sexual education. She’d bought the vibrator in self-defense.

Right now, it didn’t look like she needed it. The clenching came faster as she stroked her tiny erection, moisture lubricating the touch and increasing the sensations. Her breathing became more rapid as she fixed her gaze on the bulge in Ian’s pants, imagined freeing his cock from its constraints then licking her way down his length. Sucking him into her mouth, hearing his moans of desire as she brought him to ecstasy. And it didn’t have to be a fantasy.

She could really do it.

The orgasm hit her hard, weakening her legs until she crumpled to her knees, hand pressed tightly over her throbbing mound. Her head dropped, chin resting on her chest as she sucked in gulps of air. Tentatively, she licked her lips, almost able to taste his essence.

A few minutes passed before she gathered her strength, smiling as she rose. God, she had it bad. She’d never done that to a man before. Never even wanted to, until she’d first lain eyes on Ian Conner. Now she dreamed about it constantly. Crystal would never let her forget it if she found out the poster she’d bought her plain, take-charge sister as a gag gift had this effect on said sister.

Lissa was the steady one, the dependable one. The unemotional one. Yeah, good old Lissa could always be counted on when the going got tough.

A sigh lifted her chest. She loved her sister, didn’t regret for an instant all the years she’d taken care of Crystal after their mother’s death. She’d do it again in a flat second with no hesitation. But sometimes she really wished she could step outside her mold. Not forever, just for a week or two. See how the other half of the female population lived. The wild half.

Snagging a pair of spandex shorts from a drawer, she made her way to the shower. At least she was more relaxed now.

Okay, so maybe there was still a tiny bit of regret at refusing the job. But fantasies were a whole different ball game than really sleeping with the man. He was probably a jerk in real life. And even if he wasn’t, there was no way she could bring herself to do the things he would require of her as his mistress. She’d die of embarrassment. Wouldn’t she?

Her, a mistress. The idea was laughable, even if she wasn’t laughing. Part of her longed to try even if the idea was silly. Most of the men she knew thought of her as either a buddy or a business associate. It was a condition she was normally happy to go along with. She could, after all, pin and cuff a crazed fan without breaking a sweat, unarm complex security systems with one hand tied behind her back, and decode an encrypted message in two seconds flat. But when it came to personal interaction with the opposite sex, she was as clueless as a newborn kitten. The thought of her posing as some man’s mistress was ludicrous.

Now, take Crystal. She looked the part with her voluptuous figure and “oh-so-blonde” hair. Her sister oozed sensuality with every movement. The only thing they had in common was their brown eyes.

Crystal was built tall and slinky, while she was lucky to hit five-five. Her body wasn’t bad, per se, but it was sleekly muscled, the athletic type that intimidated most men. Especially when they found out she’d been an F.B.I. agent before opening her own security firm.

Before Danny had died.

A frown crossed her face as she scrubbed down under the steaming water. She hadn’t been responsible for his death, but she was responsible for introducing her sister to a man who lived with danger on a daily basis. A man whose chances of getting hurt or killed were high.

It hadn’t bothered Crystal at first. Twenty years old, and she’d fallen head over heels in lust with her sister’s partner the first time she’d met him. And Danny had returned the sentiments. But it hadn’t taken long for the worry to appear in Crystal’s eyes, for the fear to begin.

That was why Lissa had left the agency to open Safety First. Deep down, part of her had hoped to lure Danny into the business, get him out of danger for Crystal’s sake. But Danny had loved working for the bureau, refused to take Lissa’s offer seriously. And a little over a year ago, Danny had died in a bad drug bust. Now Crystal was a widow at the age of twenty-five, with a young daughter to care for.

Crystal needed her again, the same way she’d needed her when they lost their mother. Her sister had only been three years old then, and Lissa had been nine. Their grandmother had tried, but she was too old to handle a lively toddler so the responsibility for her sister had fallen on Lissa’s shoulders.

She hadn’t minded. It was her fault their mother had died, after all. She should have done something, stopped her father somehow. Because she hadn’t, Crystal had been left with no one to depend on except Lissa.

Pushing the memories away, she climbed out of the shower, and dried rapidly, running her fingers through her spiky hair in lieu of combing it. Combing never helped anyway. Her hair did what it wanted regardless of how she tried to style the mess.

Pulling on the spandex shorts and top, she made her way to the kitchen. She was peering into the refrigerator when the back door opened and Sammy squealed her name.

Smiling, she lifted her niece from Crystal’s arms and gave her a big smacking kiss on the cheek before her gaze met her sister’s. “You’re home early today.”

Since Danny’s death, her sister occupied the other half of the duplex their grandmother had left them. It wasn’t an upscale area by New York standards, but it was a nice, older neighborhood, a safe place to raise Samantha.

“I know.” Crystal collapsed onto a chair as she answered Lissa’s unspoken question. “I sent Howie home and locked the doors. It seems so useless to keep trying, Lissa. I’m going to lose the boutique right when it’s finally starting to take off.”

“You aren’t going to lose it.” She lowered Samantha into the high chair she kept for the little girl and handed her a cracker to occupy her. “I’ll think of something. We can always take a second mortgage out on the house.”

“No. I won’t let you do that.” Crystal ran a hand through her wild mane of hair, then propped her chin on her hand. “Besides, I doubt any bank would loan us more with the boutique in default.”

Silently, Lissa cursed her dead brother-in-law. He’d been a great agent but a lousy husband. If it had ever occurred to him to buy life insurance, Crystal wouldn’t be in this shape now. As it was, Lissa had taken out a first mortgage on the house so Crystal would have the start up capital for the Crystal Palace, her fashionable clothing store.

“We still have time, Crys.”

Tears filled her sister’s eyes. “That’s just it. We don’t.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a letter. “A process server showed up at the shop today. I’ve got one month to come up with the back rent or I’ll be evicted. There’s no way we can come up with twelve thousand dollars by then. I may as well face it and try to find a job working for someone else.”

Lissa’s heart sank as she leaned against the counter to read the letter. That boutique was not only Crystal’s dream, it had been the only thing that kept her going after Danny died. Lissa couldn’t let her lose it.

Slowly she folded the letter. “Would they let you pay half now and half later?”

Crystal wiped her eyes. “Probably, but we don’t even have half.”

A wild, simmering heat stirred in the pit of Lissa’s stomach as she abruptly reached a decision. She was going to take the job Steve Johannson had offered her. She was going to become the hunk’s mistress. “Let me worry about it.”

She pushed away from the counter, trying not to analyze the growing excitement that had her head reeling. She had to do this for Crystal. The bonus Johannson had offered would more than cover her sister’s back rent. Her own desires had nothing to do with her decision. Even if her heart was pounding like she’d run a marathon.

“I will not let you worry about it.” Crystal was looking at her with a combination of suspicion and dismay. “Lissa, you’ve done enough. You don’t have to take care of me anymore. It’s time you lived your own life. You’ll be thirty-four on your next birthday. You should be married and starting a family of your own.”

“Not gonna happen.” She made her voice calm in spite of the images washing over her. Images of violence, voices raised in anger, helpless fear. Images of blood. “A husband is the last thing I want.”

“But why not?”

Lissa turned her back to the room and rummaged in the cabinet for a boxed casserole, her breathing labored, hands trembling. “Because no man is going to do to me what our father did to our mother.”

Crystal was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was low and hesitant. “It doesn’t have to be like it was for our parents.”

“You don’t remember what it was like. You were too young, thank God. I wish I didn’t remember. Can we change the subject?”

Crystal gave a resigned sighed. “Okay. Exactly where do you plan on getting six thousand dollars on such short notice?”

It had been too much to hope Crystal would let this slide. Lissa cleared her throat. “A special job I was offered today. It comes with a big bonus.”

Her sister’s face went sheet white. “It’s dangerous, isn’t it? Why else would it have a bonus?”

“It’s not any more dangerous than the standard bodyguard job, Crys. It’s just the circumstances that are a bit unusual.”

“Explain.” Her sister got up and dug out the ingredients for a salad.

“Well, the client doesn’t think he needs a bodyguard, but his agent does. So I can’t tell him why I’m really there.”

Crystal ran a head of lettuce under the water tap. “What excuse would you use?”

Lissa squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to tell her second lie in one day. “I’ll pose as his research assistant.”

“Must be a writer,” her sister commented. “Anyone I’d know?”

Heat suffused Lissa’s cheeks. “Ian Conner.”

“Oh—my—God!” Her sister collapsed in laughter against the edge of the sink. “The hunk! No wonder you’re willing to lie to him. Don’t think for a second I’m not aware that you hid the poster in your closet. You’ve got a bad case of the hots for this guy!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lissa scowled. “I’m not the type to get the hots. This is simply another job.”

“Yeah, right. And Godzilla was just another lizard. Katie Marie Carter, you’re as human as the rest of us and it’s time you found that out.”



* * * * *

Lissa eyed the white business card in her hand as she waited for someone to answer the phone, a tingle of excitement running through her. She’d decided to try Johannson’s home number first since it had been so late when Crystal and Sammy left.

She still couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Butterflies tap-danced in her stomach as she stared at the poster on her open closet door.

The voice that came on the line was feminine but brisk.

“Johannson residence.”

“Steve Johannson, Please.”

“May I tell him who’s calling?”

“Lissa Carter.”

“One moment.”

There was a light plink as the phone was laid down, and she heard the distant murmur of voices.

When Steve Johannson answered, he sounded excited. “Miss Carter? Please tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

“That depends.” Lissa wound the phone cord around her fingers. “You know the bonus you offered me? Would it be possible to get half of it up front?”

“With no problem at all.”

Lissa took a deep breath. “In that case, you’ve got yourself a bodyguard. I need a list of all the people he comes into contact with on a regular basis, with descriptions and relationship to Mr. Conner, and a copy of his itinerary.”

“You got it. Where are you located?”

She could hear the scratch of a pen on paper as she spieled off her address.

“Great. I can be there in forty-five minutes. We’ll go over my plan while we’re at it.”

Lissa dropped the receiver back into its cradle, her gaze once more on the poster. She was actually going to come face to face with her fantasy man.

A wicked smile tilted up the corners of her lips. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d ‘came’ face to face with him, but this time it would be in person. Hots? Crystal had been wrong about that one. What she had went way beyond a puny word like hots.

Her smile faded. How the hell was she going to handle the living breathing man when she nearly climaxed looking at his picture? Just thinking about being in the same room with him had desire rippling through her body.

He couldn’t possibly be as good as the poster made him look. There was no reason for the sudden case of nerves jittering up her spine. It was probably body makeup, trick lighting, and an excellent photographer.

Except she couldn’t make herself believe it. And soon she’d be alone with him.

She did some mental calculations and decided there would be enough of the bonus left over to buy some sexy lingerie. She’d need it to keep from blowing her cover. Maybe Conner didn’t really want a mistress, but he was darn well going to get one.