Free Because a Husband Is Forever by Marie Ferrarella Page A

reception desk. Wanda, Randy’s younger sister who manned the desk when she wasn’t taking classes at NYU, had wisely chosen to retreat from the field until the battle was over.
    â€œRussell, just think about the possibilities—” Randy begged.
    â€œNo,” Ian repeated more firmly. “Look, I did the show because you asked me to, even though I didn’t think we needed it. I am not going to play nursemaid to some celebrity as a publicity stunt.”
    For the life of him, Randy couldn’t see what the bigdeal was. Or the difference—other than a slew of benefits and a stack of money. “It’s not a stunt, Russell, and why should this be any different from anything you do as a regular bodyguard?”
    As far as he was concerned, there was a world of difference. “Because in all the other cases, there was a real threat, a possible danger. We were keeping someone safe and out of harm’s way. This is just a game, a lark dreamed up by some publicity guy with nothing to do—”
    â€œThat’s what he does do,” Randy pointed out. “Come up with gimmicks to help the show. In this case, it’s helping us as well.”
    â€œI don’t need that kind of help,” Ian insisted. He shoved his hands into his pockets. He never should have said yes to Taylor in the first place. They were doing well enough without this. “It’s a game,” he repeated. “And I’m no good with nothing to do.”
    Randy threw up his hands, clearly annoyed with his partner’s stubbornness.
    â€œThen pretend she has a stalker. Pretend you’re keeping her safe. Damn it, Russell, have a little imagination. The bodyguard business is about keeping our clients safe from overzealous fans and the invading photographers. From what I saw of that audience today, Dakota Delany’s got a hell of a lot of fans.” He paused, then added more quietly, “John Lennon was killed by a fan.”
    Okay, so maybe Taylor had a point. That still didn’tmean he had to be the one to do this. There was something about being in that woman’s company that told him he shouldn’t be. But it wasn’t something he was about to share with Taylor, who felt that everything with supple hips bore exploring.
    â€œWhy can’t you do it?”
    Randy raised his wide shoulders and let them drop in an almost helpless movement. “Because they want you. The producer said you and Dakota had chemistry.”
    Ian swung around and looked at him incredulously. “We had what?”
    â€œChemistry,” Randy enunciated. “That’s when two people—”
    Ian glared at him. “I know what chemistry is. And we—she and I—don’t have it.”
    Ian found the smirk on Randy’s face particularly irritating.
    â€œI don’t know about that,” Randy murmured under his breath.
    Eyes narrowing, Ian got into his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Randy raised his hands to ward off his partner’s words. “Hey, stay focused. We’re arguing about you doing this. I don’t want this to escalate into some kind of a full-out war between us.” He tried again, his voice softening. “I was right about this, Ian. On the way over here I got three calls on my cell phone alone. Wanda’s been fielding calls. Business is already picking up.”
    The calls would have come one way or another. “We’re heading into the award season in a couple of months,” Ian pointed out.
    â€œI don’t want just seasonal work, do you?”
    Ian frowned. No, he didn’t want just seasonal work. He wanted to be kept busy all year round. Maybe then the heartache of not being around his son, of not being able to watch Scottie grow up, wouldn’t keep eating away at him the way that it was.
    A sense of resignation slipped in. So he’d do this. What would it hurt? He pinned Randy with a look.