Free Biting Oz: Biting Love, Book 5 by Mary Hughes Page B

looking. “How many?”
    “Ten. One to make the dough and nine to peel the M&Ms. It’s funny because they’re violists.”
    “Ha.” His eyes were still on Mishela.
    “Why does she need a bodyguard, anyway? She’s no Hollywood star.” I did a quick double hand wave.
    He followed, again effortlessly, again without looking. “She’s important to Mr. Elias, and Elias is important to us.”
    “Us.” I snapped my fingers and so did Glynn. Damn, he was good. “Who’s us?”
    “A neighborhood watch.”
    “I see.” Glynn the Dangerous. A homey neighborhood watch guy? I circled double figure eights. “This important Mr. Elias… You don’t mean Kai Elias, do you? President of Steel Security’s board?”
    “Among others.” Glynn followed, hands level with mine. “Mishela’s his ward. If something were to happen to her, it would…distract him from more important matters.”
    “What, like counting his money?”
    “Like government consulting.”
    “So you’re telling me that business mogul Kai Elias not only lives in Iowa but is part of your neighborhood watch?” I’d just realized Glynn’s palms traced his figure eights over my breasts. Blushing hot, I changed to patting my head and stomach. “What government consulting does he do? Coralville’s city council?”
    “A bit bigger. The Pentagon and White House.”
    That sounded more like bazillionaire Elias. So what was he doing playing around with a neighborhood watch? “Does Elias—”
    “He’s a very private person. That’s all I know.”
    It cut off that topic, at least for now. I switched motions and subjects. “So you bodyguard in Iowa for a living?”
    “I do a variety of things, of which guard is one. And I’m only based in Iowa. I work all over the world.” He mirrored my new gesture, a taffy-pulling motion. It made his pecs dance under the wedge of T-shirt revealed by his jacket.
    My tongue lolled. Oh, for the jacket totally off, so I could see the whole chest ballet.
    His tongue poked out. Oops, apparently my tongue-rolling wasn’t purely mental. I sucked my lust—and tongue—back in.
    But it reminded me. “Why the jacket all the time? You don’t strike me as the cold type.” In fact, the times we’d touched, he’d struck me as very, very hot…yeah.
    “I’m more comfortable with it on. Are you done with the interrogation?”
    “Interro—” I stuck fists on hips. “And what does that mean?”
    His fists hit his hips at exactly the same instant. “Interrogation. To ask questions, or a formal examination. What would you call it?”
    “Having a conversation.” I frowned.
    He frowned in exactly the same way. But something, maybe the quirk of a black brow, made me realize he was teasing me, confirmed when he added, “Such a cute pout.”
    “I do not pout.” Sweet, strong and funny. I was closer than I’d ever been to throwing aside duty and dreams to clamp on to his ass or chest and never let go. If I had to endure much more of this enforced closeness…but it had to end, hopefully soon, and then I’d run away. Permanently. I’d never again be close enough to feel…to smell…to kiss…
    “Stop, people, stop-stop-stop!” Dumas clapped. “That was terrible. Clearly we need to go back to the basics. Report tomorrow at six for a half hour of drill. Everybody .”
    I jerked back. There was a general groan, but I groaned loudest.
    I was such a schmuck.
    If you’ve got the job, do the job. I wanted to grab Glynn and never let go. I wanted to run away and never come back. But I trooped down into the pit, took up instruments and played my very best. Tomorrow I’d come back. I’d try like heck to get out of acting drills, but I’d return. Sometimes the personal code of honor thing sucks.
    Rehearsal went better with the local fill-in actors not so spooked at trumpets and drums coming from the pit. Even the dog playing Toto, a little terrier belonging to my uncle (everybody is related in Meiers Corners, even the