Sin City Temptation. Sharon C. Cooper

his arm. Of all the things he could have said, the last thing she expected was for him to request her.

      She blew out a quick breath and stepped around him. “Gunner, I’m flattered, but I...I’m not available,” she stuttered, floored that he would request her to guard him. “I’ve shown you plenty of women who are more than capable of handling this assignment. We can go through the choices again. I’m sure any of them will exceed your expectations.”

      “Why aren’t you available?” Once again, for each step he took toward her, she took two steps back. It was as if they were creating their own dance moves. “Are you married? Kids?”

      She shook her head. “No. No, nothing like that. It’s just that I have to be here to run my business. I can’t afford to take an assignment for that long.”

      “What if I paid you double your rate?” He finally stopped moving toward her.

      Trinity took a moment to catch her breath. His closeness had her all worked up, which was uncharacteristic for her. She had stared down hardened criminals and dealt with out-of-control drug addicts on a daily basis for years. Yet there was something about Gunner that made everything within her jumble together.

      She shook herself and mentally calculated what the amount would be if he doubled her rate. She would be crazy to turn down that kind of money. But she also knew that she’d never be able to handle being in his presence 24/7. Despite what she told herself, she was not immune to Gunner Brooks. The attraction she felt for him was stronger than ever.

      “Well?” Gunner prodded. “Do we have a deal?”

      Trinity shook her head. “Gunner—”

      “What if I tripled your fee? Then would we have a deal?” he asked, his voice an octave lower.

      Trinity’s breath caught in her throat. She knew he was wealthy and could easily afford her rates, but triple? Her mother hadn’t raised a fool.

      “When would you like for me to start?”

       Chapter 3

      “I can’t believe you’re moving in with a man.”

      Trinity rolled her eyes at Connie, ignoring her friend’s comment and laughter. In all honesty, Trinity couldn’t believe she’d be temporarily moving in with Gunner either. The whole situation felt like an out-of-body experience. What were the chances she’d be living under the same roof as the person she’d had a crush on years ago? On the other hand, this would give her an opportunity to understand what several of her security specialists dealt with when a client hired a twenty-four-hour guard. So far, she wasn’t looking forward to spending so much time with Gunner.

      “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about all of this,” Connie said, standing in the doorway of Trinity’s walk-in closet. “Do you know how many women would kill for this opportunity? Not only is the man wealthy, but he’s also gorgeous. If I had the skills to be one of your security specialists, heck, I’d be in his face explaining to him why I was the better choice.”

      Trinity shook her head and smiled. Connie Shaw, her best friend since high school, was five-four and a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. Trinity couldn’t ask for a better assistant, but knew her friend could barely fight off a fly, let alone some unknown enemy.

      Trinity didn’t know if Gunner’s concerns regarding someone taking out professional poker players were warranted, but she had every intention of protecting her new client. She was an expert in her line of business, and she didn’t plan on allowing her personal feelings to get in the way of her doing her job.

      “Since Vegas will probably be a thousand degrees this time a year, I’m thinking you’re going to need these.”

      Trinity looked up to see a canary yellow, two-piece bathing suit dangling from Connie’s fingers, a wicked grin spread across her friend’s mouth. Trinity might take a swimsuit, but it would definitely not be that particular one. The scrap of material barely covered her most prized possessions.

      “Connie, you can put those items back where you found them. This is not a pleasure trip.” Trinity went back to packing. She grabbed her toiletries from the bathroom and stuffed them in her carry-on suitcase.

      “I know it won’t be professional for you to have any fun on this trip with the hunk.”

      “His name is Gunner.”

      “Okay, then I know it won’t be any fun on this trip with Gunner, the hunk, but what if it—”

      “It won’t.”

      “Or what if he—”

      “He won’t.”

      Connie threw the rolled-up pair of socks that she had in her hand at Trinity, who caught it before it made contact with her head.

      “Stop that and let me finish my sentence!”

      “Violent, are we?” Trinity teased.

      “If you keep up this attitude, you’re going to end up an old maid who lives with nine cats,” Connie said and disappeared into the closet, but soon returned with a pair of red do-me-baby stilettos. “You never know when love might find you, but at this rate and with this negative attitude of yours, you’re going to miss it!”

      Trinity continued packing, adding the shoes that Connie put near the bed to one of the larger suitcases sitting on the floor. She tuned Connie out as she went on her usual rant regarding Trinity’s love life, or lack thereof. Ever since Connie started dating Todd, a guy from her cooking class, she’d been pointing out the fact that Trinity wasn’t seeing anyone and hadn’t had a date in months.

      As far as Trinity was concerned, getting her business to turn a profit was her main goal. Besides, right now, she didn’t have anything to offer anyone. She had too many balls in the air and she refused to let any of them fall by taking her eyes off her aspirations. This time next year, she wanted LEPA to have a solid list of clients and she wanted her homeless shelter up and running. Every aspect of her life was wrapped up into those two objectives.

      “It’s getting late. Are you still planning to visit your homeless friends, or should I say your peeps, this evening?” Connie asked.

      Trinity glanced at her Michael Kors watch, last year’s birthday present to herself. Connie was right—if she didn’t leave soon, it would be dark before she made it to the outskirts of Skid Row, a heavy populated area where the homeless resided in downtown Los Angeles.

      “I’m glad you said something.” Trinity placed a few more items in the suitcase. She grabbed the bag of clothes that was set aside for Lucy, a homeless woman that Trinity went to see a couple of times a month. “I still think you should go with me. I might need you to check on Lucy, Fred and Henry while I’m gone.”

      Connie, who was sitting on the bed near the suitcase, looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “You know I can’t handle being around homeless people. If that makes me a horrible person, I’m sorry, but unlike you, I can’t stomach the area where they live or the condition in which they live.”

      Trinity moved the suitcase and sat next to her friend as she slipped into her tennis shoes. “It doesn’t make you a bad person. I remember when my mom moved Maxwell and me from Vegas to Los Angeles. We were homeless, living out of her raggedy car that barely got us to LA, and eating one meal a day until some of her relatives took us in.”

      Trinity would never forget hearing her mother’s sobs fill the interior of the car when she thought that she and Maxwell were asleep. Even as a child, Trinity had started planning for the homeless shelter that she would one day open.

      “As a cop, I remember the first time I worked the area. I was a mess. My heart broke for each and every homeless person I came in contact with. I just wanted to take them home with me or find suitable housing for all of them.” Trinity adjusted her pant legs and stood. “That’s why I have