The Billionaire's Dare (Book 4 - Billionaire Bodyguard Series) (3 page)

Admittedly, she liked looking good for Adam. She enjoyed the flare of desire in his eyes when she opened the door and he glanced her up and down, soaking her in with his gaze. Like any second he might shed his semi-respectable veneer, back her against the wall, and kiss her senseless.

I wish.

Whipping open the door, she said, “Hey, you’re early—” She froze mid-sentence. “Marshal Sharp.” Instantly her stomach plummeted. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I know,” he said, removing his hat. He sported a black fedora and trench coat like a reincarnated
Elliot Ness.

“You do realize you showing up in that outfit makes you more conspicuous, not less. I mean, seriously, are you here to check my basement for bootlegged booze?”

He appeared mildly relieved. “So you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” she asked frostily, making her unhappiness with his presence known. “Al Capone has risen from the grave, and you’re here to condemn his ghost?”

“Wrong ghost.” He cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

“I guess,” she said as he invited himself into her home. He locked the porch door behind him, then urged her into the house and locked the front door as well.

Crossing her arms, she glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Would I show up and risk your cover if it wasn’t important?”

She spread her arms and slapped her hands on her thighs. “I never know when or why you show up, except to torment me. And if you didn’t want to blow my cover, you’d bother to wear jeans and a hardhat like you’re a random repairman.”

His hard expression remained implacable. “You might want to sit down.”

She remained standing. “I’m fine. What’s this about?” Then a quiver of fear shot up her spine. “Has Ames Gray been released from prison, or something?”

“Or something.” Rolling his fingers around the circumference of the brim of his hat, he made a great show of interest in her well-equipped tutoring space to the right of her living room.

Though she’d never anticipated becoming a schoolteacher, she’d followed the path using the government funding they’d offered her to obtain a four-year degree on their dime. And her teaching license.

Grandpa Tate had always told her she was smart. But hanging around his repair shop, running the register, and hanging out with her much older boyfriend had been vastly more interesting than high school algebra. When Marshal Sharp had offered her a new identity, she’d taken the clean slate as her chance to prove her grandfather had been right. And she had.

“You’ve really taken to your new role,” Sharp commented. “I’d never guess, looking around here, that
you came from trailer trash.”

Fury ignited inside her. “Excuse me? Who the hell are you to judge my past?”

“I’m the one who gave you a real future,” he said haughtily, like a self-righteous parent who thought she should be grateful for his costly exchange.

“You gave me nothing, Sharp,” she spat. “I made this life for myself, because you took everything else away.”

He slanted a pompous look in her direction. “You’re a success. I’m proud of you. Does it matter how you arrived here?”

“Yes, it matters. You didn’t raise me. You gave me no foundation, no love, no real support. You basically dropped me off in Iowa and said
have a nice life.
”

“Not true.” He affected a hurt expression. “I’ve watched over you. I put you in touch with all the right people. Gave you a college education. I’ve been your advocate.” His perfectly clean-shaven jaw hardened. “I secured your relocation to Denver, despite my personal reservations. You’re far too close to Arizona for the bureau’s taste, and mine, but I made it happen. For you.”

Her blood boiled. Was he actually daring to compare himself to Grandpa Tate? “So what do you want from me? A plaque like I give to my kids who earn the Student of the Year award?”

Sharp grew quiet for a long moment. “I want you to know I’ve done everything in my power to make your life better.”

“You can’t be the judge of that. No one can, except our Higher power.”

A weary look pinched the wrinkled corners of his eyes. “Maybe not, but I do wish you’d think better of me. I did my best on your behalf. I’ll always be here for you.”

“Where is all this coming from?” A tingle of concern spread through her. Marshal Sharp had never been the warm, sentimental type.

“You’re not alone. That’s what I want you to know.”

A gnawing sense of dread swept through her. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He gripped his hat more tightly. “Maria…”

The use of her real name sent swirls of angst through her. No one had called her that since she’d dared to contact Grandpa Tate despite Marshal Sharp’s orders. She’d only done it once, but hearing Grandpa’s voice had been like listening to angels from heaven.

“Maria, your grandfather died.”

Instantly, her knees gave out. For a moment, she was vaguely conscious of the carpet pile texture beneath her fingernails as she grasped for something solid.

“I know this is hard. I know…” Marshal Sharp’s voice trailed off into muted tones she didn’t comprehend. He reached out to help her up from the floor.

Grandpa Tate, dead?
Impossible. He was the epitome of the most enduring human being on the planet.

He’s not gone. He’s not…he can’t be…

That hard-working, hard-living, hard-loving, stubborn old man had no right to leave her. Damn it. He said he wouldn’t. He swore to her on his grave he’d never…

“Oh, God,” she hiccupped. Her lungs shuddered with spasms.

Air.
She waved her hand at her throat.
Not enough air.

“It’s okay.” Sharp’s distant voice offered no comfort.

Wrong. This was all wrong. He’d been so tough, damn it. Nothing could’ve beaten him.

How dare he? How dare he leave her?

The next moment of awareness that pierced her consciousness told her she was on her couch. Soggy tissues fell out of her cupped fingers. Stinging wet trails burned down her cheeks.

“Are you sure?” she gasped out between sobs.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Maria.”

Arms came around her but she slapped them away, tried to punch at the air. Then she was kneeling on the floor again, in more pain than she’d ever thought possible. Physical pain that made her double over, her chest throbbing.
No, no, no, no, no…

The one person who’d loved her—gone.

Drunk on despair, she clutched her coffee table, forcing herself upright. “You need to go.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea—”

“Just go!” she screamed. She thrust her finger at the door.

“I’m here for you, Maria. Marissa. You know my number. Call me any time.”

Hand thrust toward the door, she couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want his kindness or sympathy. She averted her face. “Just go.”

Marshal Sharp nodded curtly, took his cue and left.

The tear tracks staining her face dried as she mounted the steps. She unzipped her skirt, leaving it in the middle of her bedroom floor. She hauled out a pair of jeans from her bottom dresser drawer. From the back of her walk-in closet she hauled out her old leather jacket.

Tonight, she’d take Adam up on his invitation for a motorcycle ride. In honor of her grandfather.

*

When Adam rang Marissa’s doorbell, he received no response.

Frowning, he tried the porch door and found it unlocked. He entered through the porch, let the door slam behind him, and went to her interior house door. He’d barely knocked when Marissa flung open her door to him.

“Hey, girl, what’s—”

Up.

His cute little tutor he’d been crushing on for weeks had suddenly morphed into a hot, leather-wearing vixen.

Wait, what?

His gaze raked over her like a John patrolling his favorite hooker’s corner. Shit, not cool. “Um. You’re dressed different.”

“You’ve asked me every night for the past week to go on a ride with you. Tonight, I’m saying yes.”

Thrown off, but not ready to let onto it, Adam perched his boot on her threshold. “Why tonight?”

Her eyes glistened with a deep blue he’d never seen before. “Does it matter?”

“No…”

“Then let’s go.”

Confused, he said, “Hold up.”

“What’s the hold up?” she said impatiently.

“I brought you something.”

“You’re enough,” she said, matter of fact.

Once again she threw him off, her words hitting too close to something that mattered deep inside him. But he had something real to give her, something he’d thought long and hard about, ordering it online with his brother Liam’s help.

So he gently pushed his way past her into her home. How else could he give her what he wanted to give her, unless he set it down? “I have a thank you.”

She glanced at the door. “I’ll call it even, if you take me for a ride on your motorcycle.”

Now? Now she wants to straddle him and wrap her arms around his waist? After he’d gone to so much trouble to show his appreciation for what she’d done on his behalf.

“No.”

She appeared exasperated. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean, I’ve wanted to give you this.”

Carefully he withdrew the mug he’d brought with him, tucked away beneath his leather jacket. He set it on the low child-sized table he’d made fun of the first time he’d showed up for tutoring. Who’d have thought he’d actually come to appreciate those ridiculously sized chairs that made him feel like a dumb-ass kid? But she didn’t make him feel like that—far from it. She made him…feel. Again. More than he’d expected. He wanted to thank her.

She was a great girl. He liked her. He wanted to sleep with her more than anything, but he knew he never would. Because she meant something to him. Meant—like the real kind of meaning. Deep.
Real. True.

Yeah, he wanted her on the back of his bike, holding onto him. But that wasn’t the reason why he’d come here tonight.

“The mug,” he pointed out, gesturing to his gift. “It says ‘Number One Teacher.’ Liam helped me pick it out.” He swallowed. “Does that go against your rules?”

She looked at him like she wanted to cry. For a second he thought he saw her chin tremble.

“It’s totally legit,” he insisted. “I even spelled the word for him. I swear. Like you taught me.” He glanced at the mug wondering if he’d done something wrong. “There’s something special in it, too.” He handed it to her. “Check it out.”

“Adam,” she whispered, resting her hand on his forearm. “Would you please take me out on your bike?”

Perplexed, he said, “What about our session?”

She snaked her arm through his then batted her eyelashes up at him. He froze whenever a woman did that. Like he’d say no? To anything? Especially when it came to her. “Would later work? Please. Right now, I need to ride.”

Thrilled beyond reason, more than he had a right to be, he grinned. He felt like an old-fashioned knight who’d won the attention of a girl far above his station. “As my lady wishes.”

A sudden shimmer glinted along her lower lashes. “That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard all day.”

Sensing something was out of place, he asked, “Everything okay?”

“It will be.” She charged out the door toward his motorcycle.

“Okay.” He wasn’t about to argue.

The second he revved the motorcycle and felt her arms clutch his waist, he exhaled a controlled breath.

She’s here with you. This is what you wanted. Don’t fuck it up,
he told himself.

Funny thing was, he always fucked up what was good for him. She’d probably be no different. But he had her on his ride. She told him to ride anywhere. With one place in mind, he cranked the engine again, and peeled out of her driveway.

God, it felt awesome to feel her arms around him.

Holding onto him.

As if he meant something.

Almost like he could finally give her back all the hours of kindness and lack of judgment she’d given to him. He adored Marissa. But he wasn’t about to tell her that.

History had proven if he didn’t give a crap about someone, he got what he wanted. The person stuck around. He didn’t want to mess with karma now. Even if he wanted her to be more. Even if he wanted to tell her she was the most amazing woman he’d ever met.

And would she ever consider going out with him?

Not on a motorcycle ride, but a real date.

Yeah, not happening.

He didn’t deserve her. He knew it.

Didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying to convince her to go out on a date. Keep pushing the envelope. Why stop now, when he was already out of his league?

Adam rode up from Denver into the mountains, near his cousin Trey’s house. Trey owned somewhere around fifteen acres up here, next to a national park. If Adam managed to piss off anyone, like he was prone to do, Trey wouldn’t kick them out.