Navy Seal Bodyguard. Tawny WeberЧитать онлайн книгу.
his current op-stat.
ASCOPE recon complete, he had a solid handle on the area, structure, capability, organization, people and event in question.
He’d made contact, established his cover and elicited trust. He’d verified the possibility of threat, garnered the necessary names and time frame to investigate, and had confirmed the connection with the enemy.
He considered this a good start for his first hour on the job, befitting years of SEAL training.
Now he looked around with a grimace; it was time to set some tables.
* * *
My.
My, oh my, oh my.
Mia pressed her lips together to make sure she wasn’t drooling.
Karen had outdone herself, big-time.
Spence.
Mia knew she should have gotten his last name. But name or not, she was pretty sure she had his number.
Sexy, powerful and take-charge, the man had a gorgeous smile, piercing gray eyes and a butt so tight, she would bet she could bounce quarters off it. Add tousled hair with that hint of auburn and kissable lips that quirked in a sexy smile and Mia would rank him at the very top of the best-looking-men-she’d-ever-seen list.
If the guy was anywhere as good at handling events as he was at looking incredible, Mia was sure that her business was going to explode.
She watched him lean across the table to adjust the vase to the precise center, tilting her head to better appreciate the denim-clad view. The man’s body was perfectly formed. Long, and lean with mucles sculpted in all the right places.
She knew she was objectifying a man she’d barely met. And she really should stop. Mia blew out a long, slow breath when he straightened, wondering if those shoulders were as sexy bare as they were covered in a black cotton tee.
Okay, she was sure everything about him looked good bare.
Not that she’d ever find out.
First off, the man worked for her now. So trying to see him naked was a really bad idea.
Second, with tonight’s event for Forever Families as the latest example, her career was taking off, and big things were happening. Which meant she couldn’t split her focus by dealing with other big things right now.
And third and most important, Mia had spent her formative years surrounded by strong men. Take-charge men. Men with major control issues. A half a lifetime watching them taught her to recognize trouble when she was staring at it.
“Mia?”
She’d always prided herself in being too smart to fall for a guy she knew was so wrong for her just because his body made her want to drool.
“Excuse me? Mia?”
Still, look at the way he moved. Pure poetry in masculine motion.
“Yo, earth to Mia.”
“What?”
Thankfully Pierre chose that moment to roll a dolly of wine across the ballroom floor, obscuring her view of Spence and breaking the spell.
“I’m sorry, I was distracted. What did you say?” she said, giving Clair a distracted look.
“I had a few questions for you.” The perky blonde aimed an arch look across the room. “If you’re not busy, of course.”
Huge gala, major client, important event.
Focus, focus, focus, Mia thought, ripping her thoughts away for the temptation of her new assistant. Instead, she gave Clair her most professional smile and gestured with her clipboard.
“Let’s go over the checklist, shall we?”
“Is there anything to check off? I thought it was all falling apart.” There was just enough maliciousness in Clair’s voice to turn Mia’s smile icy.
“Nothing’s falling apart,” Mia denied. “According to my notes, we’re right on schedule.”
“I thought there was an issue with the florist. And the menu. And late deliveries.”
A big proponent of keeping all event planning in-house, Clair always reported every mistake, every ruffled expression and every single possible screwup to Lorraine—in duplicate. Mia knew plenty of event coordinators hated that sort of thing, but she told herself to be grateful. But Mia dealt with it by telling herself that Clair’s tattling tendencies simply pushed her to use all of her organizational and efficiency skills, pushing her to work even harder to put on the best event possible.
“The florist is in the process of correcting their mistake and will have the correct arrangements delivered within the hour. The winery donated an extra eight cases in apology,” Mia corrected, going down each item on the rest of her list, point by point. Her smile widened with every degree that Clair’s dimmed. By the time she’d reached the end of her list, Clair was frowning and Mia’s cheekbones hurt.
“And how’s your list of tasks coming along?” Leaning from the waist, Mia made a show of checking Clair’s clipboard. The other woman slapped it against her chest.
“Fine. We’re doing great. I’m totally on schedule.” In an obvious subject change, Clair made a show of looking across the room, blew out a breath and waved her hand to cool the air. “Now that we’ve settled that, spill. Where’d you get that yummy treat?”
“You mean Spence? He’s my new assistant.”
Despite her best effort not to, Mia followed Clair’s gaze until she found him.
Spence.
Tall, dark and bossy.
Powerful enough to intimidate, but charming enough to get things done without needing to. She barely bit back a hum of appreciation when he lifted his arm to motion for the florist to stop and the muscles in his arm rippled. Who knew bossing a flower sculptor around could be so sexy?
Swiping her finger under her lower lip to make sure she wasn’t drooling, she added finding an appropriate thank-you gift for Karen to her to-do list.
“Someone want to help me with these pedestals?”
Mia watched three men lift one of the pedestals, all straining to move it a foot to the right so they could set up the main art display. Spence grabbed the other himself, wrapping his arms around the carved post. His biceps bulged under the sleeves of his black tee as he lifted, effortlessly moving the marble cylinder three feet to the left.
Oh boy, did he have a way of moving.
Get to work, Mia reminded herself. She had floral arrangements to check, an ice sculpture to track down and eight artists to mollify. None of that would get done if she was ogling her new assistant.
“Is that really your new assistant?” Clair asked, as if reading her mind. “Talk about lucky.”
“He does seem to be excellent at his job,” Mia agreed.
“Who cares about his job skills?” Clair said dismissively. “The man is gorgeous.”
“His job skills are what matter to me,” Mia claimed, only half-truthfully. Because those shoulders did indeed make her wonder what other skills the man had.
“Are you sure? Because if you aren’t interested, I’m going for it,” Clair said, giving her a light shoulder bump. “I’ll bet I’m just his type.”
“He’s not here to be hit on,” Mia objected, not sure if she was protesting out of outrage over the poor man being objectified or if a part of her really did want to keep him for herself. Either way, as far as she was concerned, the objection stood. “He’s here to help organize events, not to be treated like a hunk of meat. Speaking of events, we both have plenty of work to do.”
Clair looked like she wanted to argue,