The Socialite and the Bodyguard Read Online Free PDF Page A

probably beginning to think she was certifiable.
    She didn’t dare look up at him. God, she was a mess.
    “Five-minute warning,” Fisk, her agent, called out behind her.
    She didn’t turn, only lifted a hand to indicate that she heard him.
    “All right, guys, let’s get this party started. She’s coming in a sec,” he said to the producer in the kitchen as he walked back.
    Nash was by her side the second Fisk left the den.
    “We’re going to talk someplace private,” he said, then took her hand and gently pulled her up from the pod chair.
    The line of potted palms between the living room and the den kept them out of sight of the staff as he led her to her bedroom, his hand at the small of her back as if he were her escort at some posh party, walking her down the red carpet.
    He steered her to her reading chaise, plucked the box of tissues off the bookshelf and dropped it in her lap, then went back and, after letting Tsini in, closed the door.
She blew her nose then drew Tsini onto her lap.
    He stood between her and the door, scanning her bedroom. He made no disparaging remarks, although the place currently looked like a movie set. Her uncle’s interior decorator had had it redone a week ago, in time for a magazine shoot. The cooking show was making a major promo push, highlighting their special angle that the celebs would be filmed in their homes, some for the first time. Her bookshelves and chaise had had to be taken out for the pictures. They’d finally gotten dragged back that morning, after she’d repeatedly asked.
    “I think there are things you need to tell me.” Nash stood tall and strong, as if standing between her and the world.
    At the moment, the thought was incredibly comforting, even if it was only a fantasy.
    “We don’t have much time before they call you, so go ahead.” His voice was steady, his gaze attentive, his demeanor calm. His stance radiated self-confidence.
    The power structure had shifted between them. When he’d shown up, she was the boss and he was a hired man. Now he was—
    She couldn’t find the right word, but the man was clearly in his element.
    “Do you know who’s after you?” he asked.
    “Tsini—”
    “You,” he corrected with a stubborn look.
    She shook her head.
    “Other than the death threats involving the dog—” He looked at Tsini. “And I want all of them, with the exact circumstances of how and when they were received. What else happened?”
Here came the part where she told him, and he would think her crazy, just as the police had.
    “I felt at times that I was being followed.” She waited for him to roll his eyes.
    He listened without giving his opinion away. “What else?”
    She drew a deep breath. “A couple of times, I thought someone might have been in the apartment when we were all out. Things were out of place. I don’t think it was Angie, the woman who cleans.”
    “You asked?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’ll talk to her. I want to talk to your whole staff.”
    Just what she didn’t need. “Mike and Dave are going to hate that.”
    Her bodyguards were protective of her and their jobs. They’d been with her for close to three years.
    “What extra security measures have they put in place since you told them all this?” Nash’s gaze was direct, his tone honed steel.
    Point taken. Mike and Dave agreed with the police that the stress of the paparazzi was getting to her. They all thought she was getting paranoid as a result of living under constant stress.
    Still, Mike and Dave were not going to let Nash walk all over their work and start to interfere. Yes, she was probably in danger. But she had a strategy and she was working it. And, so far, nothing had happened. Except that now she was getting those death threats for Tsini. Which really was unacceptable.
    “Maybe you could snoop around under the radar. Without them noticing that you’re checking into things.” She didn’t need a power struggle among her staff.
    He lifted a dark eyebrow.