Holy shit. The smile completely transformed her face—but Devin wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing because the grin straddled the line between sexy and evil.

“I know it’s hard for you to keep your morbid sense of humor in check, Liberty, but please try,” Garrett drawled.

That wasn’t exactly a reprimand from her boss. Christ. The woman had threatened to shoot him. Had no one caught that?

Devin bristled. “I’m not joking when I say that you’re not even close to my type.”

“I assure you, Mr. McClain, you’re no more my type than I am yours.”

“Does your type have br**sts and a vagina too?” It slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Rather than bristle, she looked at each of the men beside her. They seemed . . . amused. Or maybe slightly scared of what she might do or say next.

“I’m not a lesbian—not that it would matter if I were. I’m very good at my job, but I see you’ve got too much ego to find that out for yourself. I doubt it’s your naturally protective male instincts telling you that it’s a crime against nature to hire me, but more your testosterone-laden fear that someone—your fans, your friends, your family in Wyoming, your way-hotter-than-me female groupies—will think less of you for having to hire security at all.”

It pissed him off that she already had his number. If she could read him that well, how quickly could she assess a potentially dangerous situation? “Go on.”

“People want a piece of you. People think they know you through your music. While ninety-nine percent of your fans are just normal, everyday people who love music, it’s my job to be concerned about that other one percent who boarded the crazy train. And, honestly, if it’s only about appearances for you, wouldn’t you rather people know it takes only one butch woman to protect you instead of two former linebackers? That makes you look badass, not weak.”

Damn. This woman was really, really good.

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So he shocked the shit out of her by saying, “So much for my theory that you’re the fade into the background with your mouth shut type.”

“Only when it’s warranted, sir.”

Devin directed his question to Garrett just to see if she’d become outwardly indignant. “Has she ever saved someone’s life?”

“Absolutely. She’s a bona fide hero,” Joe inserted with pride. “Two years ago, while serving in Afghanistan, she took three bullets as part of a security detail. The intended target was . . . ?”

“An ambassador to the UN,” she supplied.

“Did you know him?” Devin asked.

“No. But that didn’t matter because I did my job—which was protecting him.”

“Liberty received an honorable discharge.” Garrett paused. “If you have any further questions, please address Liberty directly.”

“Fine.” Devin locked his gaze to Liberty’s and said, “Everyone out. I want to talk with G.I. Jane one-on-one.”

After the door closed and they were alone, Devin said, “No offense. I really don’t want to hire you. Not because you’re a woman, but because I don’t want to hire anyone.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“You should also know that I’m not sexist, but—”

“In my experience, men who say that usually are sexist.”

He fought a sigh. “You don’t give an inch, do you?”

She maintained eye contact. “After spending more than a dozen years in the military, I’m good at doing what I’m told. But I was also in a position of command, so when I issue an order, I expect it to be followed. I suspect you’re not the type to follow orders—from men or women.”

G.I. Jane had definitely hit the nail on the head. Devin scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look. I’m not an ass**le.”

“In my experience, men who say that—”

“Usually are ass**les. Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He paused, needing to take a different, less antagonistic tack with her. “How’d you know I’m from Wyoming? Did you read my bio?”

“No. My sister lives outside of Muddy Gap.”

“Who’s your sister?”

“Harper Turner.”

His jaw dropped. “Are you f**kin’ serious? Hot, sexy beauty queen Harper is your sister?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” she said with a hint of humor. “Harper got the looks in our family and our little sister Bailey got the brains.”

“What did you get?”

“Resolve.”

Not the answer he expected.

As they stared at each other across the table, ready to battle, Devin realized her eyes weren’t a boring hue, but almost a shimmery silver.

What the f**k? Since when do you give a shit about her eye color? Focus. “What now?”

“How about you listen to my stipulations before I hear yours? We can go from there.”

He motioned for her to bring it.

“If you hire me, I will be by your side 24/7. I have one job: your bodyguard. I don’t fetch coffee. I don’t cook. I don’t clean your tour bus. I don’t chauffeur you around. I don’t wash your clothes. I don’t run errands. I don’t mix drinks. I don’t answer your fan mail. I don’t procure groupies for you to f**k. I don’t get on my knees and suck you off. I’m not paid to kiss your ass; I’m paid to protect it.”




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