"Do you have a regular driver?"
She nodded while regarding him warily.
"Call him and tell him he’s going to have a little vacation. I want my own man at the wheel."
"But Rich has been my—"
"I want my man."
Grace dropped her head. He could feel her inner struggle.
"This won't be forever," he said gruffly. "Look, I know this is hard but you're not alone."
Her eyes flashed up to his. "You're right. I’m living with a trained killer and being stalked by a murderer. I should be praying for solitude." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve to get hit with my frustration."
"I can take it."
She looked at him for a long time, her green eyes the color of spring leaves. "I'm sure you can. You look like you could withstand anything."
And thank God for that, Smith thought, remembering how she felt pressed against his body.
"The shower's free," she told him.
"Okay."
Grace led the way down the hall to her bedroom.
"I put out some fresh towels and a razor." She went over to her dressing room, pausing in the doorway. "If you need anything..."
"I'll be fine."
She nodded and closed the double doors behind her.
chapter
8
A half hour later, they left the penthouse and went down to the lobby. As Grace introduced Smith to Joey, the regular doorman, she saw a black SUV pull up to the curb. It was big as a tank and, with its darkened windows, she was convinced only Smith's twin could be behind the wheel.
"Where's Rich?" the doorman asked as he took in the new car.
"On a little vacation," Grace said casually. "Oh, and the contractors won't be coming back for a while. Therese won't be here, either."
The man shot her a quizzical look while Smith gave him a card. "If anyone asks to get into her apartment, call my cell phone immediately. No one gets in unless I clear it, okay?"
"Yeah, sure thing."
"Have a good day," Grace said as they went out under the awning. Approaching the car, Smith went ahead and opened the door. She climbed up into the backseat, trying not to rip her skirt in the process.
"Good morning!" The cheery, booming voice was a shock. "Didn't mean to startle you. I'm Eddie."
A hand the size of a bear paw was passed into the backseat and as she took it, she looked into a face that belonged on a Christmas card. Round, rosy-cheeked, white-bearded, the guy was a dead ringer for Santa Claus.
"Er. .." Grace smiled and shook her head. "I'm sorry to stare. It's just that you look—"
"Like Brad Pitt? Yeah, I get that a lot." The New York accent was thick, warping the words. She liked the sound of it. "So do I have to call you Countess?"
"Absolutely not. I'm Grace."
"Okay, Grace." He gave her a wink.
As soon as Smith climbed in the other side, the doors were locked with a stereo click.
"Mornin', Boss man," Eddie said, hitting the gas and throwing them out into traffic. Grace grabbed onto the armrest to keep from pitching into Smith's lap. As the Explorer's engine roared, and then Eddie slammed on the brakes to avoid sideswiping a taxi, she reached around behind her and put on her seat belt.
Heaven help her; she hoped they'd make it downtown in one piece.
Eddie looked up into the mirror. "Hey, Grace, what did you feed this one for breakfast? He looks a little drawn. A little piqued. A little—"
"Not in the mood for your antics," Smith muttered.
Grace's eyes flickered across the seat. Smith's tough face was relaxed.
"So come on, Grace," Eddie prompted, "whatcha feed him?"
The man was staring into the rearview mirror while pumping the gas and the brake like they were bike pedals. If only to get him to look at the street again, she said, "He didn't get a lot, I'm afraid,"
"Ah." He addressed Smith. "What'd you make do with? A bowl of cereal that tastes like cardboard but it's good for your colon?"
"Caviar," Smith said dryly.
"Jeez! Is that what you fancy people eat for breakfast?” Another wink was sent Grace's way. "Well, you can't keep a man like him going on fish eggs. Boss man, you want to pick up something on the way?"
The tone was light but the question serious. She had the impression that Eddie was used to taking care of Smith.
"I think I can make it."
"Well," Eddie huffed, "you aren't gonna lap me in a weight contest with that kind of attitude."
"That's a trophy you can take home."
Eddie looked back over to Grace in the mirror. "You know, not only can I eat him under the table, but I can bench press two of him.”Course, he could probably bench press two of me, come to think of it. Which is even more impressive."