She'd been a stunner last night in black jeans and boots, and he'd done enough security in the tech world to guess that she must have come straight to the gallery from her office. But maybe he'd been wrong, because this morning she'd poured herself into a purple sc.r.a.p of fabric that had his eyes bugging from his head like a cartoon character's.

He didn't know where to look. Or where not to let himself look.

Tall and curvy, Suzanne definitely wasn't some scrawny computer geek. If he'd been asked to define the looks of his perfect woman, she'd be standing right here in front of him.

Her long, dark hair fell like silk down her back and over her chest. His mouth watered and he swallowed hard as he averted his eyes from her gorgeous b.r.e.a.s.t.s...only to be hit with a view of tanned, toned legs that were a mile long.

"Good morning." The two words drawled from her lips in a way that reminded him of her brothers' innate confidence. Brothers who would tear him into a million little pieces if they knew he was having s.e.xual thoughts about their sister.

When he finally managed to drag his gaze back to hers, one corner of her mouth was slightly lifted, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking despite his attempts not to.

"Ready to go?"

Her tone was surprisingly cheerful. But she couldn't have flipped to her brothers' viewpoint this quickly. Not after how furious she'd been last night. Unfortunately, his brain was addled enough simply from being this close to her that he couldn't work out her motives this morning.

Giving her a strictly professional smile, he gestured to the elevator. "After you."

Too late, he realized he should have rethought the smile. Because when she smiled back at him, for the first time in his life he lost his breath just from standing in a hallway. He could scale a mountain without so much as breaking a sweat, but her smile was that blindingly beautiful.

Distance. He needed to try to keep some distance between himself and his new client. But that was the very opposite of what he'd been hired to do. Where Suzanne went, Roman would go too. No matter how much being close to her messed with him.

When the elevator came and they stepped inside, he was palpably aware of what a small s.p.a.ce it was. She didn't just smell good-she smelled downright amazing.

Another string of silent curses let loose inside his head. Enough. He was a professional. It was time to start acting like one again.

In a normal bodyguard/client situation, they would already have sat down together so that she could detail the threats against her. But in this case, since she'd made it clear last night that she didn't want him around, he decided it was wiser to wait until she was more receptive to his being there before he pushed for the information.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, an innocuous enough conversation starter.

"I had some work to take care of for a few hours, but I finally found my way to bed." She nearly purred the word bed, which made his brain short-circuit again. "By the time I woke up this morning, I had a great idea for how to achieve one of my biggest goals."

Though it was taking most of his focus to corral his brain-and body-away from thoughts of Suzanne slipping naked between her sheets, he said, "Sounds like you're off to a good start."

"Oh yes," she said in a slightly husky tone that went through him like a shot of the finest Scottish whisky. "I have a really good feeling about how things are going to go today." She licked her lower lip, leaving it looking just kissed. "On all fronts."

Working like h.e.l.l to force all thoughts of kissing away, he said, "I'd appreciate it if you could take me through your plans for the day."

They walked out of the elevator, through the lobby, and onto the sidewalk, where she raised her arm to hail a cab. He found it interesting that a woman as successful as Suzanne leased an apartment from her cousin and took a taxi to work. Anyone else in her financial position would own a multimillion-dollar home with staff to cook and clean, and have a full-time driver who jumped at her every whim. It was almost as if those trappings of wealth and power didn't mean anything to her, and she was happy just to put her focus into her work instead. If that were actually the case, she would be the most unique woman he'd ever known-he'd never met a woman whose head wasn't turned by money and power.

"I have a meeting with my investors this morning, and then I'm going to try a couple of different things with the new software I've been working on."

The taxi skidded to a stop in front of them, and a few moments later she was sliding into the backseat. Only a monk would have been able to keep from noticing the way her barely there dress tightened over her hips, then rode up her thighs when she sat. He was gritting his teeth hard enough to break a molar when he got in beside her.

If only she'd pull the dress down. But she didn't seem to notice that she was displaying nearly as much skin as she would have in a pair of short shorts.

If this was what she wore to the office, what the h.e.l.l would she wear out on a date? He prayed she wouldn't have too many hot nights out planned while he was working for her. He didn't want to rip the throats out of too many guys for daring to touch her.

Thinking about all the guys he'd likely have to restrain himself from tearing apart over the next weeks-or months-that he worked as her bodyguard made it difficult to keep the growl out of his voice. "After that, will you play the rest of your day by ear?"

She nodded. "If there are fires to put out with my employees or customers, I'll put them out. And then I have a meeting with Rosa Bouchard and the staff of her new nonprofit tonight at eight."

Roman was impressed that Suzanne was running such a big, powerful company at only thirty-one. Investors, employees, customers-she had so many people to keep happy. Sullivan Security was one of the hottest tech firms in the world.

No wonder she was a target.

"Although," she continued, "if everything is cooking along well, maybe I'll try to squeeze in a run through the park at some point during the afternoon." She paused, and from the look on her face, it almost seemed as if she had suddenly remembered something important. A moment later, she turned her gaze back to him, then ran it slowly from his torso down the rest of his body. "You look like you work out a lot."

Jesus. She hadn't even needed to touch him to send him straight to the edge of losing his mind. He'd worked for a lot of tough clients, but he had no doubt that Suzanne was going to be his toughest yet. He'd take being screamed at and treated like dirt over trying to corral an impossible attraction any day. What's more, most clients didn't ask him questions. Primarily because they didn't give a c.r.a.p about him. And that was just fine with him. He wasn't interested in opening himself up to his clients. Better to keep his past buried deep where it belonged.

But since she was obviously waiting for him to reply, he said, "I make sure to keep in shape so that I can do my job."

She raised an eyebrow, and even that simple movement was s.e.xy. "Your version of keeping in shape seems different from most people's. I've never seen anyone with muscles like yours."

Her skin flushed, as if she wasn't used to saying anything quite so direct. The innocence of her blush didn't match either the outfit she had on this morning or the way she'd just been looking at him, as though she wanted to eat him up. Suzanne Sullivan was more of a puzzle than he'd thought. A puzzle he was far too interested in solving.

"When do you even get a chance to go to the gym if you're stuck shadowing your clients all the time?"

"I don't need a gym to stay in shape. I can do everything I need wherever I am, no weights, no machines, just by using my own body weight for resistance."

"I'd like to learn how to do that. I'm in my office more often than I'm not. And I usually can't get away." She half smiled. "Okay, I probably could get away, but I don't want to, especially when things start clicking with my code. Which I'm always convinced is going to happen any second if I only keep at it for another five minutes."

Her half smile shifted into another brilliantly beautiful grin. Though he tried to brace for impact, it didn't do any good. Every time she looked at him like that, his heart raced as though he'd just sprinted around a track at full speed.

"If there were things I could do to get my heart rate up while I'm waiting for my code to compile or thinking through a bug fix, that would be awesome."

"I can show you."

Wait. What the h.e.l.l was he saying? The last thing he needed to do was offer to get sweaty with her. It was her smile. It messed with his head so much that he couldn't think straight.

Before he could take it back, she said, "Great!" Her grin turned the sunshine up another notch inside the dirty taxi.

"So your brothers were right when they said you work around the clock?"

At his mention of her brothers, her smile fell away. "I'd appreciate it if you could leave them off our list of discussion topics. I still haven't forgiven them for their underhanded, low-down, ridiculous-" She stopped, paused, breathed. "Sorry, you were asking about my work schedule. I do work a lot, but it's because I really love what I do. I love knowing that my digital security software helps people. I always feel like I have a purpose. As long as I have my work, I'm not going to just float away one day, not going to feel lost."

In his line of work, Roman made sure to pay close attention to absolutely every cue-both from his clients and the strangers around him. He couldn't miss the pa.s.sion in Suzanne's voice when she spoke about her company and about having purpose. Her word choices were interesting as well, considering that he couldn't imagine her ever floating away or being lost. And yet, those seemed to be concerns for her.

"My brothers are all workaholics too," she said, temporarily forgetting that she'd banned them from the conversation. "I'm pretty sure we get it from my dad. I'm a.s.suming you know who he is?"

Roman never took on a job without researching his prospective clients. Due to the jobs he'd taken with Alec's company, he already knew the public information about the Sullivans. "Your father is a famous painter."

"He was. Until my mom-" She inhaled a breath that shook slightly in her chest. "You've been friends with Alec and Harry for long enough that you probably also know what happened to her, don't you?"

Her brothers didn't talk much about their past-none of them did, which Roman appreciated, since he didn't plan on sharing the past he'd put behind him with anyone. But Suzanne's past wasn't something that could be hidden, not when her father had once been such a worldwide sensation in his field that he'd ended up on the cover of Time magazine.

Neither Roman nor Suzanne had grown up with mothers. But where Roman's father had kicked his mother out for lying and cheating, Roman had learned on Wikipedia that Suzanne's mother had taken her own life when Suzanne was only a toddler.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Suzanne."

"It was a long time ago. I barely even knew her when she left." The driver came to a stop in front of a skysc.r.a.per, and he could see the clear relief on her face that she could now drop the subject. "We're here."

He paid the cabbie before she could, and when he got out of the car, it was instinct to reach out. He didn't realize the miscalculation until she pressed her palm against his. Still, it might have been nothing but a split-second shock of electricity if one of her high heels hadn't caught on the uneven curb.

She tumbled into him, and the press of her curves against his hard muscles was almost enough to make him forget.

Forget how to do anything but stare into her eyes.

Forget that she was the very definition of off-limits.

Forget that he didn't have it in him to do more than take a woman to bed and then leave her in the morning.

Forget everything except how much he wanted her. More than he could ever remember wanting anyone or anything before.

CHAPTER FOUR.

It was only through sheer force of will, honed by years of training himself to turn the heat at his core to ice, that Roman was not only able to remove his hands from Suzanne's hips, but also to put a good foot of s.p.a.ce between them.

Suzanne didn't move away immediately, however. Instead, she stared at him as though she were seeing him for the very first time. The little flecks of gold and amber in her eyes mesmerized him for just long enough that several moments pa.s.sed before he could get his mouth-and brain-to cooperate.

"What floor are we headed to?"

"Floor?" She blinked as if her brain was having just as many problems. Then, with a shake of her head, she said, "My office is on the tenth floor."

He had a.s.sumed she'd be on the top, like most founders and CEOs, not in the middle of the building. It was a good reminder that he shouldn't make the mistake of a.s.suming anything where Suzanne Sullivan was concerned.

As she headed toward the gla.s.s entry doors to the building, the heels she was wearing seemed to trip her up a bit. Yet again, he wondered why she was dressed in such markedly different clothes than she'd been wearing at the gallery. Was there a guy she was interested in? His gut had absolutely no business tightening in jealousy.

He'd been in high-tech works.p.a.ces before, and the lobby, hallways, and break rooms of Sullivan Security were just as bright and engaging as he would have expected after meeting the company's founder. But though he wasn't surprised by the works.p.a.ce, he was surprised that when they pa.s.sed one of the Ping-Pong tables and an employee asked her to play, Suzanne instantly put down her bag and jumped into the game.

She laughed as she hit the first ball into the net, then cheered when she scored a point. Roman expected her employees to throw the game. After all, she was the big boss and held their careers in the palm of her hand. But no one seemed afraid of her, even though the net worth of her company had a h.e.l.l of a lot of zeros.

The puzzle that was Suzanne Sullivan continued to grow. Especially when a twenty-something woman in a red hoodie, jeans, and sneakers said, "I didn't think you'd play this well with those heels on. What are they, five inches?"

"Try eight. At least, that's what they feel like."

"I didn't even know you owned heels," the woman said with a shudder that made it clear what she thought of them. "Must be a pretty special event for you to be so dressed up."

Suzanne shot a glance at Roman, her expression freezing as though she'd just been caught out at something. But then she shrugged. "I figured I should wear some of the stuff collecting dust in my closet."

Though the woman nodded, she still looked confused. They all did, actually. What was more, every guy in the room was trying to act like they hadn't noticed their boss's figure in the dress.

Roman wished them luck. Lord knew each and every one of them needed a truckload of it right now.

"Do you want to play?" the woman said, holding out a paddle to Roman.

He shook his head. "No, thank you."

Despite the fact that she didn't want him there, Suzanne politely said, "This is Roman." She rattled off the names of the dozen people closest to them, and he quickly memorized them. Given that the threat could just as easily be coming from inside her company as outside of it, he needed to be as watchful here as anywhere else he went with Suzanne.

"Are you going to be joining our R&D team?" a guy with thick-framed black gla.s.ses asked.

"No." Roman looked to Suzanne, knowing it would be best if he let her field questions about his job t.i.tle.

Her expression tightened for a split second before she smoothed it out and gave her employees a forced smile. Unlike her brother Alec, she didn't have much of a poker face. Everything she was thinking and feeling seemed to be written there. Hopefully, her transparency would make this already difficult job a little easier.

"Roman works in security, but not digital. Personal."

A blonde peeked her head out from around a gray cubicle wall. Her eyes were big as she asked, "You're a bodyguard?" When he nodded, her eyes went even wider. "For who?" She turned to Suzanne. "Is your cousin Smith coming here today? His last movie was fabulous."

Suzanne half laughed, half groaned. "No. Roman isn't here to protect Smith." She pressed her lips together as if she didn't want to have to say it. "He's here to protect me."

"You?"

The word came from a chorus of voices, all similarly incredulous.

He expected Suzanne to say she agreed with them and that she most certainly did not need a bodyguard. Instead, she simply nodded. "Yes, Roman is here to work with me. It's a long story, and I don't want to bore everyone with it, but don't worry. Everything's fine. I'm fine." Everyone looked from her to him, clearly wondering why he was standing there if she was truly fine. "I've got a meeting with the Mavericks in a few minutes, but I'm hoping to spend the rest of the day working on code, so I'll be around if anyone needs me."

With that, she continued down the hall and around the corner to the back of the building. "Good morning, Jeannie," she said to a pet.i.te woman with red curls who was sitting behind a big computer screen. "This is Roman. He's my bodyguard and will need complete access to the building. Could you please make him a badge?"

"Absolutely." Suzanne's a.s.sistant barely blinked at the request, nor did she react in any outward way to her boss's outfit. "The Mavericks have confirmed they're on for your meeting in ten minutes. There are several messages on your desk for you to take a look at before the meeting begins, and I've highlighted your highest priority emails in your inbox." Jeannie paused before adding, "Nothing urgent or out of the ordinary."

Relief flashed across Suzanne's face. "Great, thank you."

Roman wanted to understand more about what out of the ordinary looked like for Suzanne. But as she was about to head into a meeting-and he still wasn't exactly sure where she now stood on the whole bodyguard thing-he figured it would be best to watch everything carefully for the time being.

Though her office wasn't huge, it had a great view of Central Park. She had a big desk, a leather couch, and a gla.s.s table in the corner for one-on-one meetings. The big difference from other CEOs he had worked with was that more than a dozen computers, tablets, and phones were strewn throughout the room-on her desk, her coffee table, her gla.s.s tabletop, her shelves.

"I need to test my software on every possible device," she said in answer to his unspoken question. "You're not the first person to wonder why I've got enough in here to stock an electronics store. Plus," she said as she ran her hand over one of the PCs, "computers are my drug of choice."

"As far as drugs go, these seem like pretty good ones to get hooked on."

"Can you please tell that to the last guy I dated? He took one look at my office and mentally committed me."

"If he didn't get it, he didn't deserve you."

Her hand stilled over the computer. "Do you?" She licked her lips. "Get it, I mean?"

Telling himself her question shouldn't feel as weighted as it did, he nodded. "Of course I do." She might be a puzzle, but she was an open book when it came to things she loved-the top two obviously being her family and computers.

The large screen directly across from her desk began to buzz. "My meeting is about to start. You can take a seat anywhere you'd like."