Cat 'N Mouse by Yvonne Harriott Page B

enter her master suite and slam the door. He had a feeling he wouldn’t see
Her
Highness
again until they were ready to leave for the dinner party. Fine by him.
    Who was he kidding anyway with his little speech in the elevator? He’d wanted to kiss that stuck up look off her face. The problem was with him and his raging hormones but he was determined that he wasn’t gonna go there—not with Little-Miss-Sunshine.
    Before he crumpled the sheets with anyone, he made sure the ground rules were set in stone, that way there were no expectations and no strings attached. Falling for Princess would have repercussions. This was a job, that’s all. When it was over he would go back to his life and Little-Miss-Sunshine would go back to her castle.
    A castle fit for a Princess. That was his final assessment when he’d taken the grand tour of Alexandria’s palace. Everything from the sofa to the bookshelves was white and the legs of the furnishings chrome.
    There were accents of red splashed everywhere from the pillows to the picture frames. The double doors from the living room led out into a glassed enclosed solarium that had to be about four hundred square feet. That also was decked out in white wicker furnishings with red pillows.
    Sam grabbed his bag and started toward the second bedroom across from the kitchen. White marble counter tops and stainless steel appliances, did he expect anything less? He became acutely aware of the financial differences between Princess and himself.
    Nothing was going to happen between them, he reminded himself. It was something he’d let creep into the back of his mind when he had his arm around her in the lobby and had felt the heat of her body against his.
    He had three hours to kill before the dinner and decided to call Matt to ask about the doorman. There was just something about the man that didn’t sit well with him. Picking up the cordless phone, he dialed Matt’s number staring toward her bedroom, waiting for his friend to pick up.
    After he bended Matt’s ear about the Princess and the dinner, Matt laughed and told him to have a good time. A full report on Cain would be sent to him the following day via email, which meant he had to borrow Alexandria’s laptop.
    Matt also told him the Andersons were upstanding citizens that meant he was going to a dinner party. Sitting around with a bunch of rich snobs who would look down on him was not his idea of having a good time, but he would make the most of it. He was a professional.
    It wasn’t a formal dinner. Just a couple of friends she’d said. He opted to wear a black shirt, black slacks and a tanned sport jacket, that way he could conceal his shoulder holster.
    Sam was dressed and waiting by the door at five-thirty for Princess. When she opened the bedroom door and strolled out with her shoes dangling from her fingers, he shook his head and cursed under his breath. Her back was bare again, smooth. This time it was a white all-in-one jumpsuit outfit with a white collar around her neck. It also had a wide sequenced silver belt and a plunging neckline.
    He wondered what it would feel like to touch—off limits he told himself before his thoughts drifted further into dangerous territory.
    Which part of
informal
did that red carpet get up fit into? And the bling she sported, diamonds hanging from her ears and around her wrists, probably cost more money than he would ever see in his lifetime. She stopped by the door that led into the kitchen, held on to the wall while she slipped into the shoes, a strappy number that matched the silver belt.
    Anger mingled with desire bubbled up inside him. It was no contest. Anger won over.
    “I’m against this,” he said and didn’t even bother to mask his anger. She had started the war and chosen the weapon. And there would be casualties.
    “Noted,” Alexandria replied, without looking at him then started digging into her purse. She had replaced the suitcase purse with something the size of a small