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    When she continued to stand there, he headed to the kitchen and she eventually followed. He opened the pantry door. “Take a look here and in the fridge. Anything you need or want I’ll have delivered.”
    “I don’t want food.” She looked around the room, her eyes suspiciously bright. “I want justice and...” She closed her eyes and shook her head.
    “You want your life back,” he said gently. “I’m afraid that’s going to take more than a few hours.” Mike indulged in another long study of the woman. She was beautiful and feisty. “Go choose a bedroom and make yourself at home. I’ll handle the grocery list,” he offered. Anything to get some distance. Petite in stature even with the high heels she’d slipped into at the motel, this spitfire blonde didn’t lack an ounce in curve appeal, grit, or courage. He found the combination more tempting than he should.
    “Is that an order?”
    “If it needs to be.” He’d potentially saved her life back at the motel by talking her out of taking off on her own, but she didn’t seem impressed. “It may feel like we’re sitting around on our hands, but Claudia is gathering information we can use. We aren’t going anywhere until we hear from her.”
    “Fine.”
    When she moved out of sight down the hallway, he took a deep breath, the first in a long while. He didn’t worry about her sneaking out since every possible exit was wired. He’d be on her in seconds if she tried it. Unfortunately, it was all too easy to imagine how her sensual curves would feel under his eager hands. Not that she’d invite a normal guy like him to get that close. He could keep her alive, but he couldn’t do a damn thing to advance her career. In this town that’s what mattered most. Lauren Marie Woods hadn’t reached the level of success she had achieved without making her career rather than her love life her priority.
    He finished the grocery list and was just about to send it to Claudia when a text message from her came through. He read it, enlarged the attached photo, and read the accompanying message twice more. “Damn.”
    Another check went on the
not good
side of his mental list.
     
    Lauren tossed her purse and bag on the bed and flopped down between them. The idea that she needed to be out there doing something wouldn’t stop nagging at her. She wanted to shake Mike Stone. All he’d done so far was tell her what to do. She needed someone to help solve the situation, not remind her of the problems. She was well aware of those.
    “He did save your life, Lauren,” she muttered.
    She rested her head in her hands. If it hadn’t been for him, she would have walked right up to her car, clicked the unlock button as she reached for the door and been blown to bits. She groaned. What in the world was she going to do? News of Desmond’s murder was everywhere. The latest newsflash that she was a person of interest had likely gone viral. Her career was in jeopardy.
    Mike might be right about the danger and the odds against her, but he didn’t have to be so cocky about it. More irritating was her strange inability to ignore that ripped body of his and that handsome face. Not to mention the eyes. Those striking blue eyes were a sharp contrast to his sleek black hair. Her bodyguard was definitely leading man material—as long as the part didn’t require him to be friendly.
    She was being childish. She told herself she could put up with his attitude until this was over. She had to. He’d proven the point that she needed him. Shivering, she got up and moved to the window to peer out over the city. She’d dealt with directors, producers, and even writers who’d been worse than Mike, but they’d never seized her phone or subjected her to this kind of isolation when she needed to do something. This time the horrifying script was real life.
    Even more disconcerting, none of the directors, producers and writers with whom she had worked had ever made her wish for things