Navy Seal Bodyguard. Tawny Weber

believe me, the last thing I ever want to do is let a beautiful woman down when she’s counting on me to keep my word.”

      Those beady eyes shifted from Spence to Mia and back before the chef nodded so fast, his big white hat wobbled.

      “The menu will be to your specifications, Ms. Cade. I’ll get to work right away.”

      “I know Mia’s got a lot to deal with, so while she’s busy, I’ll check back to see how it’s going back here,” Spence said, with just enough threat in his tone to make the chef’s grimace quiver before he nodded his understanding.

      “I’m glad we managed to get that settled,” Mia said in a tone that sounded anything but. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a few things to deal with in the ballroom.”

      We, meaning she and he, Spence realized when Mia dug her fingers into his forearm and gave a subtle tug. Whether she’d had enough drama for the time being or to save his ego, she waited until they were out of the kitchen to turn on him like a rabid tiger.

      Those fairy-queen eyes gleaming with outrage, she bared her teeth in a smile that radiated threat and warning.

      “I have three questions for you,” she said, her words as low and quiet as an unexploded IED. “First off, what exactly do you think you’re doing interfering with me like that? Second, do I in any way appear incapable of handing my own business? And third, just for fun, who the hell are you?”

      “First, I thought I was doing my job. Second, you actually appear capable of handling absolutely anything.” He’d expect nothing less from one of Cade’s daughters. “And third, I’m Spence Lloyd. Nice to meet you.”

      He held out his hand to shake.

      She glanced at his hand, arched one brown brow and waited.

      “You need a new assistant, right? I’m here to help you out.”

      For a solid three second, she simply stared.

      “Did Karen send you? She usually calls me before she sends someone.”

      “I guess she didn’t have a chance.”

      Obviously a strong believer in the talk-while-you-walk principle, Mia gestured for him to come along. Glad he’d passed the first hurdle, Spence followed in her wake, telling himself to focus on her words instead of staring at her.

      “I’ll need to see your résumé and a list of references, then. I don’t have time right now but can you have them to me by the end of the day?”

      “No problem.” That’d give him time to gather enough intel to fake a few and figure out who Karen actually was. And speaking of intel... “Speaking of problems, I hear this job should come with hazard pay.”

      “Only if you’re a wimp,” Mia said dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Who tries to get out of forgetting to set the parking brake in San Francisco by claiming that someone is trying to kill them?”

      Kill them? There were those red flags again, waving wildly for attention.

      “Any chance any of those accidents almost happened to you, too?”

      “What? Look, we have work to do.” She shot him an impatient look. “I’m not sure if Karen went over the outline of tonight’s event, but I assume you have the basics. So while I deal with the florist mix-up, you oversee the table setups.” She gestured to the only set table in the ballroom, with its fancy-ass settings, complete with colored tablecloths, a round mirror, flowers, candles and class.

      “You can handle that, right?”

      No.

      But he’d led twelve-man covert missions into enemy territory with the goal of taking out insurgents without leaving a trace.

      He could handle a few table settings.

      “Tell me the order again.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I always like to double-check things.”

      “White floor-length tablecloths partially covered by what should have been shorter tablecloths in midnight blue but are navy instead, with the bead-rimmed mirrored tray in the center. Reverse order on the tables on the dais. Got that?”

      Whiskey. November. Mike. Victor. Three Charlies and a handful of foxtrot. Spence nodded. “Got it.”

      “The florist knows to put the gardenia sculptures on the lower tables and orchids on the others, but I’d appreciate it if you’d double-check to make sure it’s correct.”

      Sure. Just as soon as someone pointed out the difference between a gardenia and an orchid.

      “You’re sure?” Still assessing, those fairy eyes stared into his with enough intensity to make Spence wonder if the woman thought she could see into his brain. Still, when five seconds turned into ten, he felt a nervous tingle not even the hardest hard-ass commanding officer had ever managed with the darkest threats or demeaning insults.

      “You want the tables covered with fabric, flowers and candles. You want me to order people around to make sure they do it right. Right,” he added, “meaning your way.”

      Grinning, she shot one finger his way. “You catch on fast. We’re going to get along great.”

      He liked the way she took charge without making a big deal out of being in charge. Unlike the insecure blonde, Mia knew her own power. Damned if that wasn’t sexy.

      “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” he agreed, his own smile slow and easy.

      Something flashed in her eyes but was gone too fast for him to identify, replaced instead by professional friendliness.

      “If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be around.”

      “Actually, I need some time with you later.”

      Her eyes flashed again, but this time he could clearly read the caution. Smart woman. He appreciated a certain amount of caution, but not if it got in the way of his mission.

      So he dimmed his smile down a few notches, going for safe.

      “I just want to get a few things nailed down when you have time,” he told her in his mellowest tone. “Job details, duties, responsibilities. That sort of thing.”

      “Oh. Sure, yeah. We’ll get to that.” She made a show of grimacing at her watch, then looking around the room. Spence followed her gaze, figuring her for one hell of an optimist if she actually believed she’d be holding a ball in here tonight. “Well. Lots to do. Busy-busy.”

      With her eyes still searching his, she bit her lip but didn’t move. Good. It gave Spence longer to breathe in her scent, the rich notes reminding him of a garden in the moonlight.

      “Just to clarify, this thing tonight is pretty formal, right?”

      She blinked, her lashes so thick he was surprised she could hold those pretty amber eyes open.

      “Seeing as I’m your right hand, I assume I should be here?”

      “I actually prefer to have staff begin working with me at smaller events first. That gives me a chance to walk through my process with a little less pressure.”

      Spence looked around with an arched brow. She called this pressure? Whether it was the look on his face, a sudden leap of faith or she really needed help, though, Mia finally gave a shrug.

      “Actually, sure. I’m sure I can use your help. But it is black-tie.” She gave him a look as hopeful as it was doubtful. “Can you get your hands on a tux by six?”

      He could think of a dozen things he’d rather get his hands on—including the woman in front of him. Since none of them—including Mia—were on his mission list, he opted for a simple, “You can count on me.”

      Mia’s smile flashed, both sweet and grateful, before she answered a summons from a frantic-looking woman waving from