Free The Rent-A-Groom by Jennifer Blake

practiced motions. Gina glanced at her from the corners of her eyes as she applied mascara at the dressing table. Etta was quite a character, with her spun-sugar hairstyle, a pin on her breast pocket in the shape of a giant pewter heart, and a proprietary air as if she were straightening her own home. Her comments and snatched glances in Gina’s direction indicated curiosity, but were robbed of offense by their warmth and down-home frankness.
     
    Gina had reached the makeup stage in her dressing when the maid checked the suite the second time. Since Race had gone downstairs to reserve a court for tennis and she would be leaving in a few minutes to join him, she had told Etta to go ahead with her job.
     
    In a carefully offhand manner, Gina said, “The—uh, sleeping arrangement is only temporary.”
     
    “I should hope so.” Etta gave her a quick grin as she polished the shower faucet. “You wouldn’t want to keep a man like that layin’ around on the floor too long. I noticed him bringin’ coffee up a while ago, too, you know. Now, I like a strong, take-charge type as well as any, but the man who sees to his woman’s comfort like that is something special.”
     
    “You think so?” Gina reached for her lip gloss and applied it with more quickness than precision.
     
    “You’d better believe it. Yes, and another thing. Heaven help me if I had been up to no good when I walked in on him earlier. I expect I’d still be picking myself up. Protecting his own, that’s what he was doing.”
     
    “Oh, I don’t think it was anything quite that dramatic,” Gina said uneasily.
     
    Etta stopped in the middle of hanging fresh towels to give her a straight look. “You didn’t see his face before he cottoned to who was comin’ in on him.”
     
    No, nor the rest of him, either, Gina thought, which seemed a shame. “That’s all well and good, but some men just aren’t cut out to be married.”
     
    “No, but this one will be one day. Oh!” Etta turned with a hand to her lips. “I shouldn’t have said that; now I’ve gone and done it. Tyrone—the concierge, you know—told me that you and this watch dog hero of yours don’t know each other too well. But he wasn’t gossiping. He just wanted me to keep an eye on you since he was worried he led you to do the wrong thing.”
     
    “Because of his advice, you mean.” Gina could not be too surprised that Etta knew what was going on. It seemed typical.
     
    “He’s a great one for solving guest’s special problems,” Etta allowed, lowering her voice to a confidential mutter. “That’s so long as it’s arranging for limos, having major jewelry delivered, or filling a Jacuzzi with champagne. But he can’t get it through his head that some things are not that easy.”
     
    “I appreciate the concern, though it really isn’t a problem. A few hours more and that will be the end of it.”
     
    Etta paused in her task of dumping the bedroom wastebasket. “You mean you’ll be leaving the hotel? I thought I had you down on my list for a week.”
     
    “The gentleman will be leaving.”
     
    “But why? What did he do?”
     
    He had tricked her, betrayed her, mocked her, made her feel things she did not want or need. What had he not done?
     
    “Nothing, nothing at all,” Gina answered as she zipped the few cosmetics she had used back into her bag. “It’s just that—some things don’t work out.”
     
    “Don’t you like him?” the maid said, then gave a shake of her head. “Silly question, of course you do; what’s not to like? So what is it with you?”
     
    “How do you know it’s me?”
     
    “Don’t look to me like it’s him.” The words were positive. “Call me a hopeless romantic, but I say men don’t rise up like that to protect women they don’t care about. And they don’t swim laps like the devil is after them unless they got troubles on their minds or they’re trying to forget their manly frustrations.”
     
    Manly