Best Man for the Job. Meredith Fletcher

disappeared.

      Callan didn’t take his gaze from Eryn. He had deep, penetrating eyes. “She’s not the entertainer you hired for this.”

      At first, Eryn thought the big man had referred to her as an entertainer as sarcasm, but there was no hint of that in his voice. She locked her gaze with his out of stubbornness and tried not to notice how beautiful his eyes were.

      “That right?” The man shoved his hand out to Eryn and smiled. From the automatic way he smiled, Eryn felt certain he was a professional salesman. “I’m Toby. Best man. I’m paying for the party.”

      Eryn shifted her attention to Toby and put on a high-wattage smile. She could almost hear Renee whispering in her ear. Always be polite to the guy paying the bill. Renee had taught her that when she’d first gotten into the business. Plus, shifting her attention from tall, dark and obnoxious helped dial down the unexpected interest that had flared up.

      “I’m Candy.” She shifted her makeup kit and travel bag to her left hand and took Toby’s hand in her right.

      “Yes you are.” Toby winked at her.

      “But I’m not the entertainer you hired for the evening. My friend ended up sick a couple of hours ago. She asked me to cover for her.”

      “The other girl was blonde, right?”

      Eryn ignored the gender terminology this time. The guy paying the bills was allowed certain liberties, and they stopped where she said they stopped. “My friend? Yes.”

      Toby leered at Callan. “You ask me, we’re trading up. Daniel has a thing for blondes, which should make your sister happy. But I’ve always been partial to brunettes.” He glanced back at Eryn. “And you’re smoking hot, baby.”

      “Thanks.” Eryn tried to sound like she meant it as she took her hand back from Toby. She held up her travel bag and makeup kit. “Do you have somewhere I can change?”

      “Sure, sure. Right this way.” Toby waved her inside the hotel suite.

      Callan didn’t move.

      “C’mon, sarge, let the lady through. We don’t have all night.” Toby looked uncomfortable and not even close to being demanding. “After all, how many bachelor parties are we going to throw your future brother-in-law?”

      With obvious reluctance, Callan stepped aside. Eryn slid by him with difficulty. Her shoulder brushed against his chest and discovered he was solid as a brick. Before she could completely ease by, he took her bag and kit from her with ease.

      “Hey.” Eryn reached for her things.

      “Let me help you. Bedroom’s this way.” Somehow Callan turned his body so she couldn’t get her property back, and in one long stride he was beyond her reach.

      Eryn glared at Toby. “What’s with this guy?”

      “He’s protective of his sister.” Toby scratched the back of his neck and looked embarrassed.

      “Is she here?”

      “No, of course not. What kind of bachelor party would that be?” Bemused, Toby shook his head. “Callan’s okay. Just…intense. Protective of his sister, protective of his future brother-in-law, I guess. Jenny, his sister, told me he was a control freak.” He held up his hands. “But look, don’t worry about things. You’re going to come out of this okay. I’m a big tipper. So are the rest of Daniel’s friends. This’ll be fun.”

      You better hope so. Eryn wanted nothing more than to get her things back and leave, but Renee was counting on her.

      Raising a child alone was expensive. Eryn walked through the expensive suite into the bedroom where Callan had disappeared.

      When he reached the bedroom, Callan tossed the travel bag and makeup kit onto the bed. He didn’t like surprises and he didn’t like changes. Ops, even bachelor parties, were supposed to run smoothly. When things didn’t run efficiently, situations got difficult. Or dangerous.

      And the woman was definitely a surprise. She was just too competent, unafraid. Normally he liked that in a woman, but tonight she irritated him because he hadn’t known she was coming and she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would come out of a cake in a roomful of horny, inebriated men she didn’t know.

      The makeup kit wasn’t locked and he went through it quickly. He’d just picked up the locked travel bag when the woman walked in. She stopped in the doorway and gazed at the open makeup kit.

      “I don’t like people going through my things.”

      “I didn’t think you would.”

      She was beautiful. At least five-ten with long legs, a trim build with generous curves, and a headful of curly dark brown hair. Her eyes were blue-green, as watchful as a cat’s. Her mouth was a little too wide, but it looked fine on her. She wore a simple black dress that allowed her to fit in anywhere in Las Vegas’s night scene.

      Callan swallowed with difficulty and tried to drag his gaze from her, finally managing it with difficulty.

      She crossed her arms. “The travel bag’s locked.”

      “I noticed.”

      “Want me to open it for you?”

      “Not necessary.” Callan took out a lock pick set he’d already palmed and worked both locks. They popped open in seconds. Then he searched through the bag’s contents. Panties, G-strings and an array of neon-colored sexy underthings filled the bag. Just to be sure, he felt the bag’s lining as well. Lingering perfume and body powder filled his nose and made him think of how little flesh those lacy things covered.

      He forced himself to think of the party as a security op. You’re in no man’s land here, soldier. In enemy territory. Don’t drop your guard.

      “I keep an inventory of everything in that bag, so don’t think of taking any souvenirs.”

      The woman spoke calmly, but Callan knew she was angry. If he’d been in her shoes—stilettos, and expensive from the look of them—he’d have been angry, too. He shut down the trickle of guilt he was feeling. “Alphabetical or color-coded?”

      “What?”

      “The list. Is it alphabetical or color-coded?” She wasn’t the only one that could be hard-nosed.

      “Topographical. Based on how much they cover.”

      Despite his caution, the comment caught Callan off guard and made him smile. The brunette was quick. Then he scowled. He’d learned that quick-witted women could get a soldier dead in a heartbeat. He stepped away from the bed. “Okay, you can suit up.” He headed for the door, but this time she blocked him. He looked down at her. “Either I can go and let you change, or I can stay and watch. Doesn’t make any difference to me.” But he was lying. He would have loved to have watched.

      “It makes a difference to me.” The woman stepped aside dismissively and entered the room. “You can leave.”

      Callan went out and headed for the big room where the party was going to take place. Daniel Steadman, his future brother-in-law, stood in the center of a dozen guys all getting happily plotzed at a wet bar set up in the corner of the big room.

      Daniel was a nice guy. From the few times Callan had met him, Daniel was likable enough. But he wasn’t the kind of man Callan generally associated with. All of the men in the room were involved in big business, and that made Callan feel awkward.

      He reminded himself that he was doing this for Jenny. His little sister had asked him to keep an eye out for Daniel, in case Toby and his friends got too wild. Jenny wasn’t worried about other women, strippers or entertainers, but she was worried about everyone being in Las Vegas and so far from Dallas. Accidents happened. She’d wanted Callan to shepherd the group.

      “Hey, Callan. You want a drink?” Daniel, tall and good-looking, his blond hair carefully cut and