Close To Perfect

by Tina Donahue

Genres: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

Cover Me, Baby Real estate mogul Josh Wyatt is hotter than hot. That body. That wicked grin. Those eyes. The man can melt panty elastic with just one look--hell, he could melt driveway ice with just one look. And the tabloid photos of him emerging--naked--from his very secluded Florida pool just got him voted the year's most delectable hunk by women all across America. Time to get a bodyguard and fast. But the minute he meets sultry, leggy ex-cop Tess Franklin, Josh knows he's met his match. . . Kick paparazzi butt? Check. Scare away his lust-crazed fans? No problem. Pretend to be his girlfriend? Sure. Practical Tess would never say no to an easy gig like that. But Josh is even hotter in person than he is in those amazing photos--and Tess Franklin is about to experience an extreme meltdown. . .in his arms.

Release date: November 19, 2014

Publisher: Brava

Print pages: 350

Sample

Nudity—especially his own—had never fazed Josh Wyatt. In the steamy Florida Keys clothing was generally kept to a minimum in public, while stripping down to skin in private was as natural as breathing, and certainly not something Josh had ever thought about.

The last forty-eight hours had changed that. Suddenly his private moments were public thanks to Keys Confidential, a popular tabloid.

The latest edition was on his desk, but Josh deliberately ignored those unauthorized photos that captured him from behind as he emerged naked from his very secluded pool. He didn’t need to look at that again; those suckers were forever burned into his memory and generated absolutely no sympathy from his staff.

“Lighten up,” his secretary had said just a short time ago. Although Peg Mulrooney was in her mid-forties, she seemed closer to Josh’s thirty-one given her lingering beauty and flippant attitude. “It could have been worse.”

Josh hadn’t a clue how, unless that paparazzo hadn’t fled before he turned completely around, with those photos being sold from under the counter in brown paper wrappers. “The bastard had no right to break into my private yard and take those pictures of me.”

“Of course he didn’t, but it’s not so bad.”

Easy to say since she was fully clothed and still anonymous to the public. Even so, Josh always listened to Peg. They had worked at the same company during his construction days, with Peg being his first employee when he became a developer. She hadn’t taken crap from him when he was poor, and wasn’t at all impressed with his current wealth.

He trusted her. If she said it wasn’t so bad, it probably wasn’t. “Why not?”

“The paper named you this year’s most delectable hunk, didn’t they? They even spelled your name right. What more could you want?”

“Damned if I know. Wait a sec—how about privacy? Or trunks?”

“Give it a rest,” she advised. “You look good.”

She had said that as her gaze was riveted to those shots of his naked back, ass, and legs.

I’m a dead man, he thought then and now. Proof of it was in the endlessly ringing phones with none of those calls being about business. Oh, no. Propositions from women who had seen him exposed in that tabloid continued to pour in by the hour, and then there were the gifts.

Josh glanced at one particularly lush basket adorned with velvety orchids in varying shades of red, purple, and hot pink. Snuggled within those dewy petals were photos of a young blonde striking the same poses Josh had unwittingly provided for that paparazzo.

Peg assured him that his photos were better.

At least they weren’t as obvious. The blonde had a scarlet banner stretched across her bare butt with white print that read: Bad Boy Meets Even Badder Girl. Yum.

He closed his eyes.

“Ah, Josh?”

Aw, God. He had momentarily forgotten that his attorney was still in the office. “Yup?”

“You really need to deal with this.”

Josh was trying, but not in the way Alan Davis would have liked. Opening his eyes, his gaze slid to the man. Despite an outside temp of ninety, and punishing humidity that made even an air-conditioned office feel clammy, Alan wore a navy Brooks Brothers suit with a gold tie knotted so tight his thin face seemed paler than usual.

Josh wondered if Alan was about to faint from lack of oxygen, lack of sweating, or the problem Keys Confidential had created. “You worry too much.”

The man instinctively touched the small bald spot on the top of his head, before smoothing down the rest of his thinning brown hair. He was only thirty-five, but looked older than Peg and seemed suddenly depressed about it. “You don’t worry enough.”

He had that right. Josh continued to ignore the bundles of that tabloid stacked on the leather sofa and chairs in here. The moment Alan found out about the photos, he had sent his crew to every grocery, liquor, and convenience store to buy all the copies. Rumor had it that the tabloid just printed more since the demand was so great. “I don’t want a bodyguard.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“This will blow over.”

“Not before the first wave of lawsuits hit.”

“You think Badder Girl would actually sue me?”

Alan looked at her picture.

Josh expected the man’s pale cheeks to finally pink up. Didn’t happen. If anything, her bare butt made Alan more determined to treat this as seriously as possible.

“I think if you so much as accidentally bump into one of these women while they’re after you, they’re going to see a golden opportunity to claim that you led them on, you got them in a compromising position, you couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and then—”

“I get your point.” Damn. Being poor had sucked, but being rich was not without its problems. The moment Josh hit it big everyone wanted a piece of him with some, even the ladies, meaning to take it any way they could. He slumped farther into his chair.

Alan rocked on his heels as if he’d gotten his second wind. “That last man you interviewed was just perfect for your needs.”

Josh rolled his eyes and swiveled his chair around until he was facing the bank of windows behind his desk. Just past the overhanging evergreens and palms a modest yacht was approaching the dock. Beyond that, the Atlantic stretched into the distance, its bluish waters rustling, restless, offering escape.

Alan sighed from behind. “What was wrong with him?”

“Besides smelling like garlic every time he belched?”

“He’s going to protect you, not kiss you. Besides,” Alan said, despite Josh’s groan, “he was perfect. Big. Strong. No-nonsense and—”

“Stop—you’re turning me on.”

Again, Alan sighed. “At least reconsider suing the publication.”

“And have it all over Court TV, then made into a movie on cable? Aren’t you worried about who they’d get to play you?”

Alan muttered something beneath his breath.

“See?” Josh said. “It’s not as easy as you think; so no, thanks. I just want this to go away.”

“Exactly. And to do that, you need to hire a bodyguard.”

Or another attorney. Suppressing a sigh, Josh finally tuned Alan out and concentrated on that boat instead.

It wasn’t an exceptional craft by any means. Just a double cabin motor yacht with an upper helm station being piloted by a young guy who kept looking towards this office, rather than the slips.

Was he lost?

“So, what do you think?” Alan asked.

Josh didn’t know what to think about that guy. For some reason his grungy hair and sloppy T-shirt seemed vaguely familiar, even though nearly everyone in the Keys dressed like that. Of course, what really struck a chord was the way he kept dipping his left shoulder as if he was dancing in place. Josh had seen that exact same movement before, though he couldn’t quite recall where or when or even if it involved this guy. Did he work around here? Had he been involved in one of the recent developments? Did he own one of the contracting companies?

Was he ever going to look at that damned dock instead of this office?

“Josh?”

“Yeah, sure, right,” he said to Alan, then craned his neck to see that guy better, until the guy craned his neck as if he also wanted a better look.

“Right?” Alan asked.

No, that guy’s last movement was wrong. Actually, it was bordering on fucking weird.

Who are you?

Josh leaned to the side for a better view, but got squat, since the guy sank to his knees behind the controls. At just that moment, a group of mean-looking clouds blocked the sun.

The windows quickly reflected Josh twisted into a very uncomfortable position, which was probably why that guy had stared and was now possibly hiding.

Straightening, Josh rubbed the side of his neck and looked past his own reflection to the rest of the office. Beyond it was a glass wall that separated his space from Peg’s.

She was standing beside her desk as she spoke to a young woman whose back was to him.

Josh’s fingers paused on his neck. The pain was forgotten as his gaze drifted down that young woman’s thick, dark hair. It fell in gentle waves to her narrow shoulders, all soft and natural.

Nice.

His gaze inched lower.

She was slender and tall and dressed in a suit that Brooks Brothers never thought to design. Foolish boys. That suit was unbelievably nice. The jacket was fitted, while the slim skirt was slightly above the knee with a side slit to make walking easy and to give a man just a hint of her very nice thigh.

That thigh was currently hidden, but that didn’t stop Josh from exploring what he could of her beneath that suit. The fabric appeared lightweight and silky—from here it seemed to be the color of a ripe peach—and hugged her so well that she looked both elegant and sexy.

His thoughts whispered, Turn around.

She did.

Without pause, Josh swiveled his chair so that he was facing his desk and her.

Alan immediately stepped into his line of sight. “Then you agree?”

“What?” Josh leaned to the right to look around Alan.

“Then you agree?”

“Sure—whatever—dammit, Alan, stand still, will you?”

The attorney finally stopped pacing. “Why?”

Why else? So he could look around the man to her.

Beneath the harsh fluorescent lights that lovely hair was glossy, the color of an expensive cognac, gently framing her face. Features that were both delicate and exotic complemented her creamy flesh and those lushly lashed eyes that were either a very light brown or hazel.

Josh imagined heat in those eyes, the kind that made a man promise all sorts of things and not regret a one of them. He imagined her in island wear—one of those sheer cotton camisoles and white skirts with a ruffled hem that hung low on her hips, baring her navel.

Something deep within him was stirred as he skimmed the outline of her breasts. Full breasts that would easily fill a man’s hands.

Who was she? Why was she turning away? What were she and Peg talking about?

What was Peg doing?

Josh watched as the woman went behind her desk. Each movement caused Peg’s beaded hippie dress to sparkle as wildly as the glittery scarf she had wrapped around her reddish curls. There were rings on each finger and too many bracelets dangling against her wrists as Peg reached into her wastebasket, pulled out a copy of that tabloid and showed it to the young woman.

Josh stared as Peg pointed to his buck naked pictures on the cover—as if anyone could miss them—then pointed to the glass that separated her office from his.

The young woman’s gaze lifted to where he was seated, then returned to the tabloid as if she just couldn’t help herself.

Please don’t keep looking at that.

She did.

A moment passed and then another, while heat rose to Josh’s chest and throat.

He had to wonder what in the world that young woman was thinking and why he cared. He didn’t know her. If she was some weirdo who was here to ogle him in the flesh, so to speak, he would never know her. So, why did he feel so damned embarrassed?

Many women had seen him nude, really nude, his stiffened cock and tightened balls ready for action and not one bit ashamed. So, what was the big deal about this woman seeing his bare ass?

Josh told himself it was no big deal, but didn’t believe it, because those pictures hadn’t been his choice and certainly weren’t something he was proud of.

Of course, try to tell that to Peg or those females who continued to call. Even better, try to explain it to this one. For some reason she seemed different than the rest. She was special, although Josh had no idea why.

He hoped to God she wouldn’t laugh.

She did not. After a long moment, she simply lifted her gaze, touching his.

It was a surprise Josh had not expected.

There was understanding in her eyes, but beneath that a female wanting that was so damned honest it touched his core. As embarrassed as he had just felt, he was now as confident. Her gaze gave him that.

So, when was the last time he had needed a woman’s approval—a stranger’s approval, no less—to feel as if he hadn’t been such a bad boy or a fool?

“Yo, Josh, remember me?”

Alan? His gaze drifted to the man. He was still here?

The door to his office opened.

Josh looked in that direction as the young woman came inside, her long legs moving fluidly, like a dancer.

Peg was right behind her, smiling broadly, her expression ordering him to lighten up.

Not a chance. Josh had never felt more coiled and aroused in all of his days. Every part of him was stirred by this young woman.

Pushing back his chair, Josh stood, ready for her, ready for anything as Peg said, “Whatever you two guys have been talking about, it can wait.”

Tess Franklin couldn’t have agreed more, though she hardly got the chance to express it as that pale, overdressed man frowned at Peg.

“No, it can’t,” he said.

“Sure it can,” Peg countered, “just chill for a little bit. That’s all I’m asking, Alan.”

Alan wasn’t convinced. As he whined and Peg refused to be impressed or intimidated, Tess continued to regard Josh Wyatt.

He was taller than she had expected, over six-two, with strong, masculine features and thick, dark-blond hair that was long enough and tousled enough to give him a boyish look.

This was no boy. His creamy brown eyes, his gaze, spoke of a man’s experience and need. His lean, muscular frame betrayed those years he had toiled in construction before hitting it big in real estate development.

Despite that wealth, Tess could see that he wasn’t at all corporate uptight, not like still-yakking Alan. Josh’s choice in clothing was confident and casual—dark beige chinos and a white shirt worn open at the collar with the sleeves folded back to mid-forearm.

That skin was bronzed by the sun, that flesh sculpted by labor.

His gaze was still on her, watching, waiting, while his dark brows were lifting in approval, or was it surprise?

Tess wondered if his surprise was as pleasant as her own. Although she had seen photographs of him in Internet business articles, she never would have believed that he could be even better-looking in person. Or that his male beauty in a business setting could so easily match those bad boy photos in Keys Confidential, which was strewn all over this office, even his desk.

Tess warned herself not to look at the tabloid, and certainly not to linger on it, but couldn’t resist.

Wow. That cover may have been unauthorized, but it was still amazing—nearly artistic as it showed three large photos of Josh with each building on the last, telling a sensual tale.

In the first, he was emerging naked from his pool. Light danced over the water streaming down his broad, muscular back and that luscious tattoo that ran the length of his shoulders.

Tess suspected he had gotten tattooed during his construction days. It was a geometric pattern, possibly Celtic—tribal, bold, virile. It made her skin tingle.

In the second photo, his ass was finally bared with that flesh as hard and well-toned as the rest of him.

In the third, he was fully out of the pool, his strong legs exposed, his hands lifted to his head as he smoothed back his damp hair, his torso turned to the side as if he finally sensed someone behind him. The muscles in his thighs were powerful and taut, the right side of his chest was exposed showing that hard pec and that dark, silky underarm hair.

He looked like a modern-day David. Even the artist Michelangelo would have been impressed.

No wonder he needed protection.

For the first time since Tess had convinced her father that she should come here—despite his vigorous objections— she was honestly glad. And not at all embarrassed by the way Josh was politely clearing his throat to get her attention.

She was behaving unprofessionally, no one had to tell her that, but there were worse things in life than a woman admiring photos of such a beautiful man.

“Yo, miss?”

Tess finished moistening her lips, and flicked her gaze to Alan. His expression was as pissy as that greeting.

Ignoring him, she looked at Josh.

In that moment he forgot what he had planned to say. His gaze dipped to her lush mouth, those freshly moistened lips, before returning to her eyes. A wave of desire so completely consumed Josh that he was unable to tell Alan to shut up.

As the attorney went on and on Josh saw that need again flaring in her eyes. They were hazel, a warm, golden color, as exotic as the rest of—

“Very well, miss,” Alan said in his most condescending tone, “you leave me no choice but to warn you.”

What the hell? Josh gave him a frown.

Alan ignored that as he continued to address her. “If you’re here to throw yourself at Mr. Wyatt so you can turn around and slap him with a lawsuit, it won’t do you any good. I’m an attorney and I know the law.”

Good God. Josh glared at the man, then looked at her.

A faint blush stained her smooth cheeks, though that had nothing to do with embarrassment as she finally looked at Alan. A moment passed and then another as she took in the attorney’s full length, before lifting her gaze. It was as cool as her voice. “Is that right?”

Josh’s brows arched. Even the most macho of men would have gone limp in all the wrong places at that dismissive tone.

Not Alan. “Exceedingly so.”

“Then you must also know what constitutes slander.”

He frowned. Josh smiled. Damn, but he liked her. Her manner was confident, her voice surprisingly musical, lilting, conjuring up images of sheer island wear, sultry nights, and moist flesh.

When her gaze touched his, liquid heat poured through Josh, again.

“I believe you misunderstand,” Alan said.

She swung her gaze back to him. “No, I don’t think I do.”

His voice hardened. “You’re trespassing.”

“There you go again,” she said.

“Now, now, play nice you two,” Peg said. “Especially you, Alan. I invited her inside.”

Josh smiled. “Thanks.”

The young woman seemed momentarily surprised by that response, then returned his smile.

It was so lovely and approving Josh couldn’t help but grin.

Oddly enough, that killed the magic. All at once, her expression changed from approving to no-nonsense—watch it, buddy.

Josh fully intended to watch all of it. Didn’t she know that?

Her arched right brow said that she did.

Losing his grin, Josh moved around his desk.

“You invited her in here?” Alan asked Peg.

“Yup,” Josh said as he bypassed the attorney and went straight to her, not stopping until he was close enough to capture her fragrance.

It was soft and powdery, reminding him of spring air in colder climes; that first hint of warmth scented by delicate flowers.

He smiled.

Her cheeks flushed again.

That and her softening gaze had Josh damned near giddy. “Hi.” He offered his hand.

Her gaze remained on his as she slipped her own inside.

Her fingers were slender and warm, her skin deliciously soft, but her grip was as firm as any guy’s.

She was no pushover; that was for damned sure, which aroused Josh all the more. An easy woman had never been his style. This woman had all the makings of a challenge, out of bed and in.

His cock continued to thicken as he imagined her naked flesh on top of his as he plunged deeply inside her sweet, wet heat. Not that Josh was about to let that arousal creep into his voice, at least not yet. “Josh Wyatt, miss—”

“Tess Franklin,” Peg said.

“Tess,” Josh said, his gaze still on her.

That faint blush deepened until it was nearly as dark as her silky peach suit. “Mr. Wyatt.”

“Josh,” he corrected, in an easy, welcoming tone. “What can I do for you?” Please, God, let it be something good.

“Ah, Josh,” Peg said, “it’s not what you can do for Tess. It’s what she can do for you.”

Even better. Josh nodded as if he understood, while his fingers gently caressed hers. “And what can you do for me, Tess?”

Although she had come fully prepared to answer that question, and many others, at the moment words escaped her.

He had really beautiful brown eyes that were as dark as his brows and a shadow of beard, which made his hair seem that much lighter. His eyes were also bright with intelligence that was softened with patience and respect. A potent combination in any man. Male was in every part of him, even his clean, masculine scent. It reminded Tess of leather, tobacco, and torrid summer nights when all caution was lost. It drove even more of her good sense away.

At least, until Alan impatiently cleared his throat.

As Josh shot him a look of warning, Tess figured she should pull herself together.

It wasn’t like her to behave so foolishly; she had never done such a thing before, especially with a man. Early on, Tess had been determined to be the equal of any guy.

For some reason, Josh Wyatt made her forget everything she had believed was important, while also making her feel more female than she ever had.

His heat, touch, the sound of his deep, rich voice, the power of his male presence was even more intoxicating than the photographs.

Of course, those photographs were the only reason she had come here today. It probably would be best if she remembered that.

“It’s all in here,” she said, easing her hand from his.

As Josh looked down at that, then to the envelope she was pulling from her shoulder bag, Alan spoke up.

“Don’t touch that,” he ordered Josh, then frowned at her. “I should have guessed. You’re a process server and that’s—”

“More slander,” Tess interrupted, “or at the very least, another preposterous assumption.” She looked at Josh. “I’m a bodyguard.”

No shit? His gaze immediately trickled down her, lingering on her heels. They were the same peach color as her suit with a cut out area to expose her toes.

Her nails were polished in a pinkish tint that was so adorable and arousing Josh had an insane urge to drop to one knee so that he could stroke, then lick those lovely toes. A bodyguard’s toes.

That brought him back to reality fast as his gaze inched back up her. To his guesstimate, she was probably five-seven or eight, weighed no more than one hundred and twenty-five pounds, though she wasn’t skinny—oh, no. Her flesh was ripe, toned, tanned, and looked raring to go.

Even so—a bodyguard?

Josh smiled, unable to help himself, as his gaze settled on the deep V of her suit jacket. “Since when?”

The edges of that jacket moved slightly with her very deep, very pissed breath.

Uh-oh. Josh lifted his gaze and wasn’t a bit surprised that her slender brows were drawn together. After clearing his throat, he used his most professional voice. “How long have you been a bodyguard?”

“Since I left the force.”

His eyes widened. “What force?”

“The. Police. Force.”

She had said that very slowly, as if he was unbelievably dense or an incredibly bad, bad boy.

“You’re a cop?”

“Ex-cop.”

Not even CSI: Miami had cops that looked as good as this.

“You carry a gun?”

“All the time.”

Josh struggled for a moment, then let his gaze trickle back down her. Where in the world could she have concealed a weapon in that outfit? The suit fit her nearly as well as skin. As far as Josh could tell, the only thing pushing against that fabric were curves that were supposed to be there.

At last, he glanced at her thighs. Was it possible that she was sporting a gun in a frilly garter? Did bodyguards do that? Did ex-cops?

His brows lifted as he considered that. Maybe that’s why she had that slit on the side of her skirt, instead of in the back. Maybe she reached beneath that slit to pull a weapon out when she needed it.

Amazing, but nice. Josh figured even the most hardened criminal would definitely notice that frilly garter and her sleek, tanned thigh, whether she was pointing a fucking cannon at him or not.

“And you have credentials to prove this?” Alan asked.

“Prove what?” Josh asked. Hell, had he spoken his thoughts aloud?

“It’s all in here,” Tess said. She waved the envelope in her hand as she went to Alan.

Josh followed.

Her gaze noted . . .