“Now you’re talking. Let’s do it in front of everyone. Kinky!”
Ugh! What a pervert! Was she going to have to scream to get him off her? Why’d she let Stella invite him? CoCo kicked up her struggle but just as she opened her mouth to yell for help, Drake was suddenly ripped away from her and tossed to the floor like a rag doll, and CoCo found herself staring at the hot stranger she’d talked to earlier.
“You really should pick better friends,” he said, picking Drake up from the floor and manhandling him straight to the door before tossing him out. “Let him sleep it off on the front lawn.”
Oh, thank God. That could’ve been embarrassing. CoCo’s relief was short-lived as she realized he’d just vaguely insulted her. “Excuse me?” she bristled. “Do I even know you? How’d you get into my party?”
“You have a funny way of showing gratitude,” he said. “A simple thank-you would be just fine.”
“I don’t recall asking for your help. I can handle Drake on my own. He’s basically harmless.”
“Yeah, it looked like you were doing a bang-up job of handling things. Tell me, at what point were you going to admit that you were in over your head? About the point when he started ripping your clothes off?”
“Don’t be such an alarmist. That wouldn’t have happened. Drake isn’t a rapey kind of guy.”
“Could’ve fooled me. In my world, when a woman says no, it means exactly that. Didn’t seem that your friend was getting the message.”
Her cheeks burned at the mere possibility that Drake might’ve taken things too far. Drake was pretty drunk. He probably wouldn’t even remember getting tossed outside.
“Still choking on that thank-you?”
Smart-ass. “If I had something to be thankful for, I wouldn’t have a problem saying it. But as I said, I had things under control,” she maintained stubbornly, even if there was a niggling doubt that maybe Drake might’ve been a little too jacked up to listen to reason. “However, since you seem stuck on the need to hear it...thanks for handling a mildly embarrassing situation,” she said stiffly. “Now answer my question... Just who are you?”
He sighed as if she’d just responded exactly as expected and found it disappointing, then said, “Glad you asked.” He produced credentials and a business card, which she accepted with open confusion. Elite Protection Services, Rian Dalton. She regarded him with a faint frown as he continued. “Your father has hired me to watch over you for the next couple of days while the FBI figures out who’s been threatening him.”
She returned the card with an irritated exhale. “Chill out on the panic button. Your services aren’t required. I don’t need a babysitter. My father is just being overly protective.”
“Your father started receiving death threats about a week ago. In the interest of your safety, your father has hired me to make sure that no one gets any bright ideas about kidnapping his only heir for ransom.”
“As if that would happen,” CoCo said, bored. “People don’t get kidnapped. That happens on television and in the movies but not in real life.”
“And here I thought you were smarter than that but apparently, you’re pretty comfortable with the blonde stereotype.”
She stared. Okay, that was definitely an insult. What a jerk. When her father had told her about the threats, she’d tried to reassure him that it was nothing but he’d been so freaked out. Now it seemed she should’ve worked harder to talk some sense into him. But first, she needed to send this prick packing. “As I said, your services aren’t required. Thank you for your assistance earlier but I think we’re done here.”
“I don’t work for you, sassy pants. I work for your father.”
“Well, I’ll call my father tomorrow and let him know that I can take care of myself.”
“Fine by me, but until then, I’m your shadow.”
She narrowed her gaze. “And just what does that mean?”
“Exactly what you think it means.”
CoCo shook her head. There was no way she was going to be trailed by this man for the next few days. He was already stomping on her nerves. “That’s not going to happen. I refuse. What then?”