Because a Husband Is Forever Page 4

  Other than pointing to various waving hands, Dakota mostly kept her silence, letting Randy and, on occasion, Ian answer the questions. Her audience appeared to be in seventh heaven. Which placed her there as well.

  She’d never had an hour slip by so effortlessly, so quickly.

  Even as the strains of her theme song began to weave themselves through the air, the audience gave no sign of being sated.

  But all good things had to end, and her program would be over in less time than it took to say it. Time to wind things up.

  She rose from her seat, immediately followed by the two men.

  “All right, ladies, Ian and Randy have to get back to doing what they do best.” She beamed at the two men. Randy was grinning from ear to ear while Ian looked just the slightest bit befuddled. Funny, she wouldn’t have thought anything could have accomplished that. The man seemed far too on top of things for that to have happened. “Maybe we can persuade you two to come back sometime.”

  Before either could answer, the audience cheered and chimed a resounding “Yes” in response.

  Dakota laughed. “I guess that settles it, then.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the director signal her. She gave a slight inclination of her head then looked toward the main camera. “This is Dakota Delany, thanking you for tuning in. Come by tomorrow so that I can get in another word edgewise.”

  She winked, knowing that the camera was fading to the credits.

  “And it’s a wrap,” the director declared, crossing to them.

  Dakota looked to the wings where her own security people had converged. “Looks like the bodyguards just might need bodyguards to make their way off the stage,” she quipped.

  “We finally through?” Ian asked. He didn’t bother hiding the impatient edge that had slipped into his voice. When she nodded, she suddenly felt him place his arm about her waist and abruptly guide her toward the rear. She half expected him to keep on moving once they reached backstage, but then his arm slipped away. An odd sort of regret filtered through her but she dismissed it in the next moment.

  Behind her she could have sworn that she heard some of the audience audibly sighing. She became aware that Ian was watching her with more than a hint of an accusation in his eyes. Obviously this hadn’t been as good an experience for him as it had been for Randy or the audience.

  “I thought your assistant said the segment was only going to be twenty minutes long.”

  Dakota raised one shoulder, letting it drop casually. “Ordinarily it is. On the average, we fit in three guests every hour. But you two were an unqualified hit.” She grinned at both of them, but only Randy responded. “In the four years I’ve been doing this, I’ve never seen an audience take to guests the way they did to you two.”

  Randy’s eyes were all but gleaming. With a barely concealed whoop, he looked at Ian. “Business is going to be booming,” he predicted.

  Dakota nodded. “I’m sure it will be. You might even have to hire extra people.”

  Ian shook his head. “I really doubt if any of those women in the audience are going to need a bodyguard in the near future.”

  Her eyes met his. “You never know. As you pointed out, it’s not just celebrities who have stalkers. Regular people are plagued by them, as well.”

  MacKenzie sailed up to join them, her feet barely touching the floor. She’d witnessed the show inside the production booth, having full advantage of all the cameras trained on the set.

  “That was wonderful,” she enthused. She grabbed hold of Dakota’s hands. “Could you just feel all that energy out there?”

  “Feel it?” Dakota laughed. “A couple of times I thought it was going to swallow us up.”

  As far as Dakota was concerned, this was almost the best part of the show—the aftermath when, if the show was a particularly successful one, the energy level surged almost through the roof. She felt far too charged to retreat into her dressing room to go over the next day’s show.

  She glanced at Randy and saw that the man was making more than a little eye contact with her production assistant. Maybe this could use a little nurturing. She tried to remember the last time MacKenzie had mentioned going out with someone. Nothing came to mind. Her friend needed to get out.

  “Listen,” she said suddenly, placing her hand on Randy’s wrist to get his attention, “do you two have to rush off just yet?”

  Randy avoided looking in Ian’s direction, as if he knew a contradiction was in the offing. “Not particularly.”

  “Good.” Dakota’s smile took in both men and her best friend. “Why don’t the two of you join Mac and me for a drink—or whatever?”

  One dark eyebrow rose in a quizzical crescent. “Whatever?” Ian echoed.

  Dakota played back her own words. Oh God, did he think she was propositioning him? Her voice as smooth as silk, she was quick to clarify the potential misunderstanding. “Early dinner, late lunch, whatever you feel like having.”

  Ian shifted his weight. The backstage area was quickly filling up with people whose jobs he couldn’t begin to guess at. That created a very small space for the four of them to occupy.

  Most especially, for the two of them, he thought darkly. The bubbly woman could have been his shadow, or at least an extension of him, she was standing so close. Close enough for him to feel her breathing. Close enough for the scent she was wearing to infiltrate his senses. Consequently, when she ended her offer by saying “whatever you feel like having” he found himself thinking that he felt like having her.

  The thought surprised him. He took a second to get his bearings and himself under control. He was a great believer in instinct, and right now instinct told him that Dakota Delany was the type that if you gave her an inch, she found a way to turn it into a town.

  There was no way he was about to get socially mixed up with someone like that. Or anyone else for that matter. He was still one of the walking wounded as far as romance was concerned. He’d learned the hard way that he wasn’t cut out for relationships. There were ways of satisfying sexual urges without getting sucked into a situation that required talking afterwards, or even interaction—both of which he preferred to avoid if at all possible. With everyone.

  The best way was to beg off at the very beginning. “No, I don’t—”

  He felt Randy’s hand suddenly on his shoulder. “We’d love it,” Randy declared firmly. “Wouldn’t we, Ian?”

  Trapped, Ian shrugged dismissively. “Yeah, love it,” he echoed.

  Dakota noticed how the look on Ian’s face was akin to thunderclouds descending over the plains. But she felt too good to allow him to dampen her mood. On a whim, she decided to bring him around, just as she had on the show.

  “Well, that was certainly a resounding positive vote.” She laughed as she threaded her arm through Ian’s, beginning to forge a path for them. “C’mon, I know a great place to go. We can walk there.”

  A slight din began to come from the front of the stage. It seemed that security hadn’t managed to clear away their audience just yet.

  MacKenzie fell quickly in behind Dakota. “I suggest walking fast,” she told the group, “before the audience decides to make a break for it and cut us off.”

  The people around them parted, but only enough to allow them to wiggle through. Acutely aware that his arm was still in Dakota’s possession, Ian glanced over his shoulder toward the stage as they made their way out.

  “I had no idea women could be that, um—” He paused, searching for a word that wouldn’t ultimately be offensive, then finally settled on “pushy.”

  Dakota caught her tongue between her teeth to keep from laughing. So, despite his somewhat gruff demeanor, the man could be innocent, as well. She had to admit she found it rather refreshing.

  “You’d be surprised,” she said before turning back to the task of getting them out of the studio.

  He was trying not to be, Ian thought, attempting not to notice the way her hips swayed as she pulled out in front of him. He was
definitely trying not to be.

  Heaven, Dakota’s restaurant of choice that night, was located only three blocks from the studio where her program was taped. In the last four years Heaven had become a home away from home to her. Certainly the food there was better than anything that could be found in her own kitchen.

  Today, as always, Heaven was fairly humming with patrons, both regulars and first-timers. An elegantly decorated restaurant, its walls were lined with photographs of celebrities who frequented the premises. As on any other day, several could be spotted seated at the scattered tables and booths, enjoying the fare.

  It was damn crowded, Ian noted. The line they’d just circumvented was clear out the door. He didn’t take Dakota for the type to cut in front of people, which meant that he was off the hook. “I guess we came at the wrong time,” he said to Dakota.

  About to retreat, he found his path impeded by the effervescent woman.

  “Not so fast,” she told him as she turned to the maître d’. Dakota greeted the man and subsequently was embraced in what amounted to a Russian bear hug.

  Ian sighed. Looked as if he’d failed to factor in the magic of star power.

  The tall, mustached man in the dark suit smiled broadly as he released Dakota. “For you? How could there not be a table for you, my friend? Always, always there will be a place for you and your friends anywhere I will be,” he swore, dramatically hitting his chest with his fist.

  Dakota inclined her head with a smile. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

  The aristocratic man looked around for a waiter. Spying one, he was quick to dispatch the man into the center of the dining area. Within two minutes Dakota and the others were ushered to a booth that was off to the side.

  The tables around them were filled to capacity with people who clearly enjoyed themselves and their meals. It seemed rather improbable to Ian that this plum location had gone begging all this time. He looked at Dakota as the waiter distributed elegant black menus with gold lettering. “He kill the people who were sitting here?”

  “You always view everything so darkly?” Dakota asked.

  He shrugged absently. “Just seems surprising that with all these people in here and that line at the door, that this booth would go empty and unnoticed.”

  “It doesn’t, exactly.” She paused to order a bottle of wine for the table, then looked back at Ian. “Dimitri keeps it reserved for me.”

  That didn’t seem like a sound business move, unless there was something going on between her and the silver-haired man. The embrace had seemed particularly warm and friendly.

  “What else does he keep reserved for you?”

  “The best wine in the house,” she answered glibly, nodding at the departing waiter. She deliberately took no offense, sensing he didn’t mean it as an insult but more of a probe.

  Ian’s gray eyes held hers. He had no idea what prompted him to ask, “What do you do in exchange for all this service?”

  Randy leaned in, an apologetic expression on his lean face. “You’ll have to excuse my partner. He left his brain in his other skull.”

  Dakota took it all in stride. “Along with his manners, I guess. Glad they lasted the length of the show.”

  She should have left it there, she told herself. After all, the man had no right to infer anything. But she wanted to set the record straight.

  “And to answer your question, this is Dimitri’s way of showing his gratitude. This place is his first restaurant in this country. I had him on my very first show and sent a little business his way as he was starting out. His excellent menu and fantastic culinary skill—until recently, he was the head chef, as well—did the rest. But he still chooses to be grateful, and I do like the food here.” Finished, she gave him an inquiring look. “Any other questions?”

  Ian laughed shortly. He supposed he had that coming. He had no idea why he’d pushed the issue, only that an uncustomary flare of temper had surfaced when he saw the way the older man had held on to Dakota for a beat too long. There was no reason why he should have cared, even if the two were lovers.

  “I guess that puts me in my place. Sorry.”

  Randy almost choked on the water he’d just sipped. Regaining control, he stared at Ian. “Oh God, this is a monumental moment. Russell never apologizes.”

  Ian opened the menu, hoping to return to business as usual. The selections ran down two long columns. “Because I’m usually not wrong.”

  Randy grinned. “He’s also been known to walk on water on occasion.”

  MacKenzie’s eyes shifted to the other man. “Now that I’d like to book for the show.”

  Ian didn’t even glance up. “Sorry, only private showings.”

  Dakota laughed. Her eyes fairly gleamed with delight as she looked at him. “Hey, you do have a sense of humor.”

  “Sometimes,” he muttered, wishing his partner would start to use his gift of gab and bail him out of this.

  As if sensing Ian’s thoughts and taking pity on him, Randy picked up the menu and looked down the long columns. “So, what’s good here?”

  “I can honestly say everything,” Dakota told him. MacKenzie nodded her assent. “I’ve sampled every item at one time or another and couldn’t tell you which was his best.”

  Ian glanced over the top of his menu. His eyes slowly slid down as much of her trim torso as was visible to him. Women didn’t generally admit to having a healthy appetite, so he believed her. “How do you keep the weight off?”

  Dakota thought for a moment. Weight had never been a problem for her. “Regular exercise, I suppose.” Or as regular as she could get it, given her hectic schedule.

  “Having the metabolism of a hummingbird doesn’t hurt, either,” MacKenzie chimed in.

  Dakota laughed. “You should talk.” If she were into envying people, MacKenzie would be at the top of her list. The smaller woman could eat from morning until night and never show any of it. “She eats ice cream as if it was going out of style and never gains so much as a lousy ounce.”

  Ian smiled politely at both women. He was here to have a drink and a late lunch, nothing more. He’d managed to keep a distance between himself and the people he worked for. Doing the same with Dakota Delany shouldn’t be difficult.

  Shouldn’t be, a small voice in his mind echoed for reinforcement.

  The small voice somehow rang false.

  Ian closed his menu as the food server came their way to take their order. He glanced at the glass of wine standing by his plate. He’d never really cared for wine. “They have beer here?”

  Dakota grinned. “More kinds than you could possibly imagine.”

  Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all, he thought. He raised his eyes to Dakota’s.

  Then again…

  Chapter Four

  The buzzing pulsed insistently as it wedged its way into a low-grade din in the restaurant.

  MacKenzie sighed, retiring her menu to the table. She looked up at their slim-hipped food server who stood with an electronic pad and stylus poised in his hand.

  “I’m probably going to have to pass,” she said. Tilting the pager that had become a permanent accessory, she nodded. “Yup, I’m going to have to pass.” She exchanged looks with Randy. “The studio’s paging me.”

  “Why don’t you just call them back?” Randy asked.

  Both Dakota and she knew that it was never that simple. “A—” she held up one finger “—the reception here’s usually not the best. Like as not, I’ll probably pick up Angela Redding’s conversation.” Underscoring her point, MacKenzie nodded at a mature-looking woman sitting at the next table. The woman’s autographed photo graced the wall and she was known as the grande dame of one of the longest-running soap operas on the air. “And B—” a second finger joined the first “—they’ll just tell me to get back there, anyway.”

  Randy rose to his feet to let her slide out of the booth. MacKenzie flashed a smile at Ian and Randy. “It’s been fun,” she told the two men.

&nbs
p; Randy stopped her before she could leave. “Why don’t I walk you back?”

  The suggestion freshened her smile, but etiquette had her protesting. “You don’t have to do that.”

  Randy gave a half shrug. “Well, since I’m on my feet anyway,” he pointed out, “I might as well just keep moving.” He took her arm. “Besides, this gives me a chance to ask a few questions.”

  Dakota noted that her friend gave up any attempt at protest. “Is charm part of being a bodyguard?”

  “It helps.” He looked over his shoulder at Ian. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Ian merely nodded. Randy inclined his head toward the other occupant of the booth. “Dakota, a pleasure.”

  “Likewise.”

  She watched Randy and MacKenzie leave. Was it her imagination, or did their bodies appear to be closer than the space around them necessitated? Maybe this was the start of something good for MacKenzie. The woman had no social life outside of the show.

  Neither do you anymore.

  And it was going to stay that way, she decided firmly. Getting burned once was enough for her, at least until the next century. Clearing her throat, she looked back at the man beside her in the booth. “So, is stoicism the other part of being a bodyguard?”

  He ignored her question. Without Randy as a buffer, it was going to get painfully quiet at the table. Taking the initiative, he slid to the edge of the booth. “Look, we don’t have to stay.”

  But Dakota made no move to follow him out. Instead, she placed her hand on his wrist. “Sure we do. We’re the only ones who’ve placed their orders.”

  That stopped him for a moment. “I’m not much on conversation.”

  “That’s okay. I am.” Mildly certain that she’d snuffed out his inclination to go, she took her hand from his wrist. “My father used to say I talked more than any three people he knew.”