Minding Amy

Amy stared at him, confused.

"Trust me. I've got someone from a highly respected company we use for security and so forth–"

"A bodyguard?" Amy interrupted.

"I'd rather think of him as a minder."

A minder? He had to be kidding. That was even worse than having to share the feature with someone. It was as if he thought she was still a child who needed babysitting. Her chin lifted. "The last thing I need is some lumbering oaf who will do nothing but slow me down."

"Your pride will get the better of you one day, Madam." The comment, though chastising, was delivered with relative good humor. "That's the deal and you either take it or leave it." He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

Bloody hell. He really wasn't kidding. If she wanted the job, she would have to endure the indignity of having a bodyguard trail along behind her. Her blood had reached boiling point. "No way. You wouldn't set a minder on any other journalist."

"I'm not having my daughter poking around in what might be a murder case without protection!" He frowned heavily, his business demeanor entirely vanishing for a moment.

A mite subdued, she tried not to pout. "Dad, it's not a murder case."

"It might be." He sighed. "Trixie," he added, in a more cajoling tone, "your mother would never forgive me. Just let this guy come along with you and you've got your scoop."

She didn't respond. She couldn't trust herself not to say the wrong thing and lose any chance she almost had.

"As I said, I've been in touch with a reputable company. One of their best men came over yesterday afternoon and I've briefed him about the whole set up."

Amy's mouth opened in dismay. He hadn't even waited for her to agree.

He held up his hands and shrugged. "As I said, that's the deal."

She sat in silence, her thoughts racing as she tried to think of a worthy retort. There didn't seem to be a forthcoming solution, besides, Jake's occult references weren't far from her mind and as long as the guy didn't get under her feet and wasn't too unbearable to have around, she may well feel more relaxed about the heebie-jeebie aspect of the case.

"Well, do you give in?"

She felt like she was being tricked into something and she resented it, so she made him hang a minute longer.

He drummed his fingers on the desk, then gestured at the outside office. "You can get stuck in as soon as you agree…he's next door. I'll call him in whenever you're ready to get started."

Oh, deep joy, the man is actually here already. Dear old Dad had set her up good and proper. "It doesn't look as if I have a lot of choice," she replied, grimly.

"Good girl." He leaned forward and hit the intercom. "Alison, can you ask Mr. Armitage to step in now, please." He turned back to Amy. "He's a good man. I liked him a lot so don't worry about having him come along with you."

Amy shook her head and shot him a stern glance. He ignored it and stood up to greet the man who was entering the room.

"Amy, your escort for the duration of the case, Mr. Sebastian Armitage."

Amy glanced over. She noticed the dapper suit first. She didn't know exactly what she was expecting, but she had pictured some sort of bouncer-type, not someone who looked as if he had stepped out of a top fashion magazine. Her gaze lifted. Tall too, and well built. And…and a strong jaw line. That lopsided smile. She blinked, then her gaze met those gray-green eyes. Unmistakable.

"Ms. Norton." He walked over with his hand held out to her.

Amy froze to her chair. What the hell was going on? Was she still asleep, dreaming her lusty dreams about the hunk? It couldn't be. It really couldn't be him, here, at work, in her father's office.

"I'm pleased to be working with you," he said.

After a moment she managed to scramble forward in her seat and put out her hand. He leaned in and grasped it firmly, applying enough pressure to assure her he was indeed real. Incredibly, he winked at her, as if to indicate her hadn't forgotten their previous encounter.

"Um, yes." Her hand flew into her hair when he released it, her fingers fiddling nervously. "I don’t think you're needed here, Mr..."

"Armitage, Sebastian Armitage, but please, let's not be formal. Call me Sebastian."

He was blatantly amused by the situation. How dare he? Amy straightened her shoulders and fixed him with what she hoped was a steady gaze. "As I said, I don't think you are needed here."