Read Online Protecting His Assets by J.K. Coi - Free Book Online

paperwork from Mr. Nolan and won’t be long. We’re business acquaintances, nothing more.”
    At this time of night? Could she have come up with a worse excuse? Now he thought she was a prostitute for sure . It didn’t help that Nolan was grinning from ear to ear, having way too much fun making April uncomfortable, or that his little display of fake affection just a minute ago had already put ideas into the doorman’s head.
    But to his credit, Doug kept his cool. “My apologies, ma’am. Of course. I’ll keep an eye on your vehicle until you’re ready to leave.”
    “Ah, nothing to apologize for. Thank you,” she said, pinning Nolan with a glare. He only smiled back at her evilly. “I’m sure Mr. Nolan appreciates that you take such good care of his guests.”
    Nolan stuffed his hands in his pockets, completely casual. “Doug’s the best. Nobody gets past him.”
    They said good night, and Nolan turned back around to the elevator. Another elevator . “What floor do you live on?” she asked.
    He looked sideways at her as the door started to slide open. “The twentieth.” He moved to step inside.
    She reached for his arm to hold him back until she’d had a chance to make sure the elevator car was empty and had to bite her lip to keep from letting out a surprised hiss at the unexpected shock of touching him. Even through the suit jacket he was warm, thick, hard.
    He looked down at her hand on his arm. She yanked it back quickly. “Sorry.”
    She started to tug the front of her suit jacket before stopping herself. Fiddling with clothing was a classic indicator of nervousness. She should know, she’d been trained to read all the signs. Even if Steve Nolan did make her nervous…hot and breathless and nervous…she was determined to at least look professional.
    She nodded and stepped in after him. At least it was empty but for the two of them. Before the door closed, she took a deep breath. There were germs everywhere, yes. But ever since her dad had gotten sick, she’d become more aware of enclosed public places like this as concentrated pockets of disease. It was irrational, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
    When he reached out to press the button for the twentieth floor, she couldn’t look away. How many other people had touched that button today? Yesterday? The day before? How could he be sure that the cleaning service had disinfected the keypad? Or when they’d last disinfected the keypad. Or that they even cleaned any part of the elevators at all? How could he be sure that the last couple to come in together after a romantic dinner hadn’t decided to get the private part of their evening started early? Leaving the issue of cleanliness aside, it was amazing how many people didn’t even care that there were almost always cameras in elevators.
    She looked up and realized she’d been watching the elevator buttons with too much intensity, and now he was watching her curiously. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
    His expression hadn’t changed, so maybe she wasn’t being as obvious in her freak-out as she thought she was.
    “Thank you for what you did back at the restaurant.”
    She shrugged, relieved. “I didn’t do anything.” Only her job.
    “You handled that photographer”—he said the word with the kind of derision that came from more than just a cursory experience with the breed—“much better than I would have. If he’d tried to take one more picture, I would have decked him, and that would only have gotten me in more hot water with our investors when the news hit the Net.”
    “You wouldn’t have hit him.” She was pretty sure about that. “You’ve never hit any of them in all the years they’ve been hounding you.”
    His gaze narrowed. “And you know this, how?”
    “It was a long afternoon. I did some research and called a friend at the FBI.”
    “And do bodyguards usually have connections with the FBI?”
    She didn’t answer, but she thought a lot of them probably