Chapter Three

Of course it’ll be your pleasure. Look at him!

Kennedy managed to keep the polite smile glued to her face despite the freak-out going on behind the mask. And who wouldn’t freak out? She’d nearly swallowed her tongue when she walked into her boss’s office for an emergency meeting and came face-to-face not only with the man who’d been holding up the wall in the lobby of the spa this morning—where her mouth had run a bit on the less than professional side—but also the guest she’d thoroughly embarrassed herself with. The guest that was none other than the top rock star in the country. The one man she’d really hoped to never see again.

Liar!

Right. So her libido had hoped he’d appear at some point, but her brain knew it was far better for her peace of mind—and her job—that he not. As she tiptoed her way through this mine field of a conversation, she focused on listening to that voice. The smart one. The one that didn’t always get her into trouble.

Isaac Anschau. The Isaac Anschau. She wasn’t sure how she could’ve missed it. Sure, he’d been lying facedown, but even seeing half his face squashed against a pillow, she should’ve known who the hell he was. She’d been too distracted by the accent, probably. That low, lazy sound didn’t come through clearly in his music, which might be for the best because it was guaranteed to make you forget your own name, much less recognize someone else’s. It was hot, sweaty, back-scratching sex at its finest.

A quiver rushed down her spine.

He’s a client; nothing more. And yet pulling herself away from thoughts of him was impossible when he sat right in front of her, when he spoke to her, when he stared into her soul with those piercingly light blue eyes, like a crystalline sea she could lose herself in…

Damn. He could not find out it had been her this morning at the spa. If he did, she’d die of shame.

And if a disgruntled guest of his caliber reported her to Jerry? She’d be out on her ass.

“You asked for the Brazilian, correct? Adventurous man.” What demon had taken up residence on her tongue for those few crazy moments?

She forced herself to stop the frantic hand-wringing in her head and focus on the sexy rock star— No. Focus on the job in front of her; that’s what she needed to do. God.

“Kennedy, meet my head of security, best friend, and cattle prod when I need it, Nick Lewis.” Isaac smirked, staring up at the big man beside his chair. She would’ve said dwarfing the musician’s tall, athletic frame would be difficult, but Nick’s muscled body would dwarf just about anyone. “Anywhere I go, he follows.”

She quirked a brow. “Anywhere?”

She’d meant the comment as a security question, but Nick’s snort of amusement reminded her it could be taken more than one way. A grin tugged at her lips, though she fought it.

Nick winked in her direction. “I like her, boss.”

“You like anyone who’ll give me shit.”

“Very true.” Nick settled into a wide-legged stance, hands clasped in front of him, completely comfortable in his own skin. Kennedy had a feeling she was going to like him as much as he seemed to like her. “Our crew will be at a different hotel, obviously, but I imagine you are familiar with the volume of traffic we’ll have in and out of the penthouse; it’s unavoidable. I have a five-man security detail in place, and your office has kindly provided an emergency crew until their permanent team reports for duty tomorrow. I’m impressed.”

“We want nothing less,” Kennedy assured him. Security was a priority throughout the resort—visitors didn’t flock to places where they felt unsafe—but the Sovereign’s high-profile clients received the benefit of personal security from their own highly trained security team. Cooper would have put the arrangements in motion as soon as he was notified of the unexpected arrival. “For the next two weeks, your safety and comfort are our top priority.”

Isaac dismissed her assurances with a casual wave. “Honestly, I just really want to relax as much as I can. There’ll be a lot to do to get ready for the show, but we’ve been full bore for nearly six months…”

Kennedy nodded. “My brother is a musician; I totally get it.”

One blond brow arched above his intense stare. “Oh? Anyone I know?”

“Probably.” She couldn’t resist what her brother called her witchy smile. Isaac probably expected her to have a friend in some obscure little group, not to be related to the chart-topping founder of a mega-hit band. “My brother is Vincent O’Connell, from Weekend Washout.”

“Bugger me, didn’t see that coming.” His gaze took her in, head to toe, generating a heat that had her shivering in her stilettos. “You certainly look like family.”

“I bet she’s the cute one on that branch,” Nick said. She swore his eyes twinkled as they met hers.

“O’course,” Isaac said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen V. Ran into Hank a few months ago at a concert in SoCal.”

Jerry cleared his throat. “Well, it sounds like you two have plenty to talk about.”

She recognized her boss’s signal: time to move the clients to her office. Isaac filling her personal space with his masculine, possibly unforgettable presence wasn’t her first choice, but she had a job to do—and damn it, no sexy rock star would keep her from doing it. She stood.

Her boss stood as well. “You’ll be in the best of hands, Mr. Anschau.” He pulled a case from his back pocket as Isaac joined him on his feet. Handing over a gilt-embossed card, he said, “In the meantime, if there’s anything I can help you with, anything at all, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“I won’t, although honestly, with the gracious accommodations and Kennedy on hand, how could I need anything?” Isaac’s smile appeared genuine, without the brittle polish of celebrity that so many of her clients wore to protect themselves. Or maybe it was the soft lilt of his accent coloring her view, making him sound almost country: anythin’. A sigh escaped.

Good guy or not, she needed to stay as far away from him as her job allowed. This was a professional relationship, not a private one. Why did her brain—and body—want so much to forget that?

“I appreciate you and the Sovereign accommodating me,” Isaac was telling Jerry as her boss herded them inconspicuously toward the door.

“Anytime!”

She spent the seconds it took to cross the outer office thanking God that Isaac wasn’t leading the way. She remembered far too well what a masterpiece the man’s backside was. Not that she should be remembering; she should be forgetting. Which she was doing. Right now. Definitely.

Except…him behind her meant he could examine her backside. Heat traveled up her neck at the thought.

She prayed the blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt as she reached the outer door and turned to her tagalongs with her best professional smile. The way Isaac’s gaze traced her cheeks said her prayers had gone unheard. Damn Irish skin.

“Perhaps we could walk over to my office, maybe discuss your needs, Mr. Anschau?”

She swore a flash of heat came and went in his eyes, making her all too aware of the various definitions of needs. Her thighs clenched together under the weight of his stare.

“I meant it when I said to call me Isaac. And I hope you don’t mind being Kennedy.”

She nodded despite a wave of uneasiness. Considering her clients as friends and acquaintances rather than a business helped her anticipate the best way to care for them. In Isaac’s case, they needed to be very distant acquaintances. Barely involved. Nothing too intimate.

Her core heated at the idea of intimate and Isaac Anschau in the same sentence. So did her internal cursing. “Isaac it is.” She gestured toward the door, giving herself a brief reprieve from the intensity of her reaction to him. “My office is just down the hall if—”

“Boss.”

The rumble of Nick’s voice cut her off.

Isaac groaned, a hand rubbing down that handsome face before he glanced to his bodyguard. “I forgot.”

Was that regret she heard?

Stop looking for interest where you shouldn’t find it, damn it. This isn’t high school and Isaac Anschau is not a potential homecoming date. Get. A. Grip!

“You forgot…?” she asked.

“Right, yeah.” Isaac’s mouth tugged up at the corners, the smile rueful. “We’ve managed to arrange a walk-through at the arena shortly. One of the few afternoons they’re free. I do want to meet, though. Let me treat you to dinner for your trouble; I know how precious a day off can be.”

“Dinner?” In a dark, romantically cozy restaurant? No. Her willpower was already proving how little it valued her self-preservation; she didn’t need to feed it any more temptation. She glanced a bit desperately at Nick. “A reservation for three then? How about the Mystic tonight at eight?”

Isaac and Nick shot her simultaneous, highly incredulous looks. She couldn’t resist the laugh that bubbled up at their twin reactions.

“Two, make it two.”

The hint of command in his gravel-rough voice wasn’t making this any easier. He would sound exactly like that after he got off, wouldn’t he, sated and yet not?

A flutter hit her belly.

She barely refrained from rolling her eyes—really, she was beginning to think she was a lost cause. And after tonight, dinner, alone…

No, not alone. She’d reserve the most public table she could get, damn it.

“Two it is.” Turning toward the hall, she sent a casual wave over her shoulder. “I’ll make the reservation.”

“The Mystic, eight o’clock. I’ll be there,” Isaac said behind her. “See you tonight, Kennedy.”

She made her way down the hall to her office as quickly as her heels allowed, trying to ignore the weight of his stare, the sound of her name on those gorgeous lips. The way his sexy tone implied more of a date than two professionals meeting to set an agenda. Her freaking libido was going haywire; that was all. She was a professional, the best at her job—she wouldn’t have gotten so far at her age if she wasn’t—and she’d dealt with devastatingly handsome men before. Men who’d been attracted to her, flirted with her, come on to her. Keeping her libido in check on the job was never a problem, ever.

So why did she have the feeling that Isaac Anschau would put that restraint to the test in ways no one ever had before?