was tiny, yes, he’d give her that. Yet she possessed something he’d never seen in the women in his life—confidence. He’d bet half his trust fund that Sabrina Desdune knew exactly who she was and what she wanted out of life. Now, whether or not that should concern him, he wasn’t quite sure. What he was sure of, where she was concerned, was that she was damned beautiful. Despite her attempts to downplay her good looks, a blind man could see them. Skin the color of cocoa, a pert little mouth with full lips, high cheekbones and eyes so deep, so moving, you could sink right into her soul. And that body…any woman that wore jeans and a T-shirt like that had his vote every time.
Still, he did not need a bodyguard.
“She’s supposed to keep you alive. It’s as simple as that so don’t get any other sordid ideas about her,” Rico chided.
“I think it’s too late for that, Rico. Didn’t you see the sparks flying between those two? I’ll bet he has her in his bed by the end of the week.” Alex guffawed.
“I will not!” Renny said adamantly.
“He’d better not!” Rico added. “This is serious, Renny. Now, I know you don’t care much about Bennett Industries, but this attack is personal. Dad has made quite a few enemies in his time and now it appears one has gotten bold enough to come after his family. You’d do well to watch your ass this time instead of that woman’s.”
Renny was instantly offended. “Now, wait one minute. Bennett Industries is just as important to me as it is to either of you. Just because I choose not to work there doesn’t mean I don’t care. I know how important it is to Dad and to the two of you. And I see how worried these notes have Dad and Mom, for that matter. That’s the only reason I agreed to come here and meet with these security people in the first place. But I don’t see either one of you being assigned a girl to guard you.”
Alex sat in a chair, stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Nah, I could never be so lucky.”
“It’s not luck, believe me.” Renny had turned toward the window again, just in time to see that curvy little body moving swiftly toward the SUV her brother drove. Those jeans molded over her bottom as she stepped up into the vehicle, and blood pumped swiftly through his loins. Hell, no, this was not luck, this was going to be a game of Russian roulette if he’d ever seen one. And he’d never been lucky at gambling.
Okay, so he was fine as hell with that thick, curly hair and those smoldering dark eyes that sent chills down her spine. But he was just a man. One of the species that she had sworn off for the rest of her natural life.
Turning into the lower-level garage, Bree realized that little oath might be a tad unrealistic—a woman needed some sort of sexual relief sooner or later. But she was definitely not going to get that relief from this man. He was a client. Her brother’s biggest client, and she wouldn’t dare muddle something that important with stupid thoughts of sex with Lorenzo Bennett.
Besides, she wasn’t the type of woman he got excited over. She’d seen that in the look he’d given her when she was introduced as his bodyguard. He’d barely masked his disgust. Tomboys definitely weren’t on his platter as an appetizer. She visualized him with the tall, leggy, buxom, model type. The glamorous, giggling bombshell that would hang on his every word and grace the society pages with elegance—elegance that she would never possess.
She parked her Durango, the one luxury she had allowed herself upon her departure from the U.S. armed forces, and lifted the bag from the backseat. “God, Sam, did you pack everything out of the office in here?” she muttered as she slipped the black duffel onto her shoulder and climbed down out of the truck.
She pulled a piece of paper from her back pocket and glanced at the address again. He was on the third floor. She disregarded the elevator and took the stairs. She hadn’t had a chance to run this morning because Jeremy and his cute self was full of questions and stories for his auntie Bree, and she’d happily indulged him.
Besides, taking the stairs would give her the chance to check out the ins and outs of this building—this high-priced, glitzy condominium complex that she should have known the billionaire playboy would reside in. She wasn’t impressed. For all the money he undoubtedly paid to live here, the security wasn’t worth crap. She’d driven right into the garage and opened the stairway door and was now pulling it open without any security breaches.
There was a long hallway with only two doors to her right and one to her left. She went to the left first even though that wasn’t in the direction of the door she needed. At the end of that hall was a floor-to-ceiling window giving a view of the golf course that looped around from the country club up the street. There was no way to open the window, but there was no security tape around it that would signal any alarm if someone decided to bash it in and gain entrance. She turned and came back down the hall, passing the bright green Exit sign pointing to the stairs she’d just come from. The doors were numbered with big glossy black numerals. Looking up and down the dove-gray walls, she frowned at the lack of even a security camera. She stopped in front of the door with the numbers that matched those on the paper she still held and took a deep breath.
You can do this, Bree, he’s just a man. She shook her head vehemently. Correction, he’s just a client.
The incessant knocking resonated through the thick haze of Renny’s thoughts. He was focused, in a place that soothed and comforted him—that place his father called his fairy-tale land. He held his pencil in a loose grip, looking down at the paper filled with lines that were about to take shape even as someone continued to rap on his door.
Cursing, he stood from his desk and walked out of the studio. Through the CD player the smooth, sensual sounds of Brian McKnight filled the living room. He paused momentarily to turn it down a notch, then went to the door, pulling it open with all the frustration he was feeling at the moment.
Bree had been about to knock again but instead the door had flung open and she’d lost her balance, her raised arm and the top half of her body falling into what felt like a solid wall. She looked up into the stern face and dark eyes of the owner of that massive wall of a chest and forced herself to smile. “Oops. Mornin’,” she said in a voice that was much calmer, much more chipper than she really was.
Renny had caught the flailing female effortlessly, but the moment his hands made contact with the bare skin of her arms he knew it was a mistake. She’d haunted him last night and that hadn’t been enough. It wasn’t even eight o’clock and she was here on his doorstep, possibly to torment him some more.
He steadied her, then quickly took his hands off her. She wore lip gloss today, her pouting mouth almost begging to be kissed. She wore sunglasses so he couldn’t see those eyes, those deep-brown, expressive eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail again and he fought the sudden urge to pull it free. She’d twisted and turned it in some fashion so that it looped around a few times and was dangling down her back, but he knew that if he just pulled on that band it would fall, cascading down her back like a curtain of pure satiny bliss.
He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?” he asked gruffly.
Bree tried not to take his rudeness personally and pushed her glasses to the top of her head. Without the dimness of the shades she almost moaned. He was beautiful. He wore sweatpants that accentuated his trim waist and a sleeveless shirt that was glued to his muscled chest. That funny bronze skin of his almost glistened from his face to his neck, to the bulging biceps and big hands. Through his shirt she could easily make out the imprint of impressive pectorals and a six-pack of abs. He must work out religiously to keep that kind of body.
“Not a morning person, huh?” she said airily as she pushed past him and made her way into his condo. She instantly began looking around, surveying what was needed.
Renny closed the door, lounged against it, crossing his arms over his chest, and enjoyed the view for a moment. “Normal people don’t go around banging on doors this early.”
She shrugged, dropped her bag on the couch and moved to the windows. She was dragging her hands along the seals as if she was looking