That quieted her for a moment.
As she measured the span of his shoulders, she wondered; how many other women had clung to them.
"And what happened?" she asked, bracing herself for the answer. "Did you..."
"Sleep with them? No, I didn't." His mouth lifted in a cold smile. "I was never tempted... until you."
"Well, at least that's a start," she muttered.
"No, it sure as hell isn't."
"Why? As you said, the threat hanging over me isn't going to last forever. You're not going to be working for me for the rest of our natural lives."
"Christ, Grace, this isn't just about the damn job. I've spent the last twenty years alone. By choice. I don't do relationships and you're not the kind of woman who can handle having sex without one. This isn't going anywhere."
"How would you know what I can and can't handle, exactly?"
"Think back to when I took you to bed that night you broke the glass. You put a stop to it, Countess, pulled away pretty damn fast when things got heavy. Not really the kind of thing a woman does when she's comfortable with casual sex, is it?"
Grace could feel the heat rush to her face.
He cursed softly. "Look, I'm not thinking straight anymore and you're not paying me to be distracted. We've got a problem and I'm trying to make it better, not worse."
"We don't have a problem," she countered doggedly.
"Then you're deluding yourself. And you're the one who's going to get hurt."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't know that for sure and neither do you."
He shot her a level stare. "If my brain gets scrambled in the wrong situation, you could end up dead. I'm still leaving at the end of this job. You want to pick between those two finales?"
"Who says they're the only options."
"There's no happy ending to this. I told you that before."
"Well, dammit, maybe there could be!"
He brushed his hand over his hair again. "Grace, don't fall... for me."
"Why? Because you're worried my heart's going to inconvenience you in some way?" she snapped.
"It's for your own good."
She put her hands on her hips, pegging him with hard eyes.
"Let's get one thing straight, you arrogant son of a bitch. I'm capable of surviving a lot worse than a love affair with a goddamn ghost. The truth is, when you hit the road, there isn't going to be much to miss because not much of you has been here. And you've got a hell of a nerve telling me what's for my own good. You're a coward under all that muscle. You," she pointed at him, "are so busy protecting yourself it's a miracle you have time to take care of your clients. For my own good," she muttered. "Why don't you work on yourself first. Then you can play Dr. Phil on someone else."
John let out a curse with such force she stepped back.
"Just what do you think your life would be like if I hung around?" he demanded. "You think you're going to have a ball staying up nights, wondering where I am and whether I'm coming home—ever? You think you can handle not being able to reach me for weeks, maybe months at a time? Are you tough enough for all that? Or do you expect me to turn into some goddamn party favor, someone you can have on your arm like a purse at all those fancy parties you go to?"
She shook her head and tried to respond more evenly. "I wouldn't want that. I'd never expect you to be something you're not. All I want is to give us a chance."
"You want to play out this whole relationship fantasy? Fine." Smith's eyes were sharp, assessing. "You can't tell your own mother you're getting a divorce from a man you don't love. How are you going to break the news to her that the two of us are sleeping together? I'm her worst nightmare."
Grace lifted her chin. "You don't need to worry about my mother. She's my problem. And as for your job, is the line of work you're in now the only thing you can do? I doubt that."
He shot her a humorless smile. "People without a valid social security number, people who have three different passports, people like me, don't just walk into an office somewhere and apply for a job."
"Don't hide behind logistics," she said with dismissal.
"Logistics? What the hell do you think I do for a living?"
She sent him an annoyed look.
"Well?" he demanded.
"You're a bodyguard." When he shook his head in disbelief, she said, "Come on, Smith, I know you're a tough guy but even the most decorated military men manage to get back into civilian life when they leave the service. You can choose another path."
She was taken off guard when he just stared at her and she got the sense she might be off base.
"Don't they?" she whispered with doubt,