Ahhh, a good call on Christine's part to explain his presence.

She headed to the conference room, and Craig fell into step beside her. When he placed his hand at the small of her back as she preceded him inside the room, Christine stiffened and stepped away from Craig. Ben's blood boiled in his veins and it took every ounce of control he possessed not to charge in there and break the man's arm in a couple of different places so he'd keep his hands off Christine in the future.

Ben shifted restlessly on the couch and swore beneath his breath, unable to believe how this one guy could get to him in such an elemental way. Craig closed the door behind them, but the conference room was glass-enclosed, and while Ben wasn't able to hear their conversation, he was able to watch every move that slimy bastard made.

He shut down his computer, set it aside, and kept his gaze glued to the conference room and the pair inside. An eternity seemed to pass as he watched the two interact. Craig casually touched her arm as he pointed to something in his portfolio folder, and Ben's jaw clenched. The other man said something to make Christine smile and laugh, and Ben's stomach churned with an emotion he refused to exam too closely.

By the time they came out of the conference room. Ben was feeling more than a little surly.

Christine walked Craig to the door, said good-bye, then strolled back toward Ben with an amused smile curving her lips. She was wearing a button-up beige silk blouse with her brown skirt and killer high heels, and the expensive material shimmered across her chest as she moved, reminding him of how soft her breast had felt in his hand, how tight and hard her nipple had peaked against his fingers. At the time, he'd ached to pull off her pajama top and take one of those firm mounds of flesh into his mouth so he could taste her.

She sat down beside him on the couch. "Did I hear you right earlier when you said you're a jealous boyfriend?" She looked immensely pleased at the notion.

So, she'd overheard part of his exchange with Craig. "A jealous pretend boyfriend," he corrected her. "I'm just acting the part for your benefit."

She tipped her head, causing the ends of her hair to brush across her shoulder like expensive skeins of blond silk. "Are you sure about that?"

No way was he going to admit that his jealousy was real, and judging by her sweet, knowing smile, he didn't have to. The woman read him way too easily, and it was an unnerving feeling to realize she could get into his head that way.

"Even knowing you have a boyfriend, the man can't keep his hands off you," he said bluntly.

"I don't encourage it, as you've seen," she said, absently smoothing a hand down the front of her skirt.

"I don't like him."

She laughed lightly. "So you've said before. Not that you're jealous or anything." She made a face at him.

He held back a grin, because she just looked so damned cute and irresistible. "My dislike of Craig is all based on my professional assessment of the guy," he said gruffly.

With a sudden look of concern, she reached out and placed a hand on his forehead.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"You're a little warm," she said, appearing completely serious. "I think you're experiencing office fever from being cooped up in here for so many days. And you seem to have all the symptoms of office fever, too."

He frowned in confusion. "And what would those be?"

A playful smile flirted at the corners of her mouth. "You're grouchy and irritable, which are the two most common ailments of office fever."

"Oh, you're funny," he replied.

"Luckily, I know just what you need. A change of scenery and some fresh air does wonders to alleviate office fever." She stood back up. "Give me another hour to wrap up a few things and make sure Madison has everything under control, then you and I can leave the office early this afternoon."

"To do what?"

"I have some errands to run, and then I was thinking you and I could grab a bite to eat afterward. I've had a craving for pizza lately. How does that sound?"

He grinned. His day had just taken a turn for the better. "Are you kidding me? Pizza and beer is my idea of a gourmet meal."

"You're very easy to please." She touched her fingertips to his jaw, and the lighthearted moment between them shifted and changed, as did the nuance of her comment.

He pulled back so that her fingers fell away, but the slight distance between them did nothing to dissipate the sensual awareness she'd kindled between them with just a simple caress.

And considering the desire warming her gaze as she stared at him, she knew exactly what she'd done, too.

As she walked away, he groaned beneath his breath. Oh, yeah, he was definitely in deep trouble when it came to Christine.

CHRISTINE opened her day planner and scratched off another item on her to-do list for the afternoon. "Only one more errand to go, and we're done for the day," she said, and glanced over at Ben, who was driving her around the city in his truck.

Over the past few stops they'd made, she'd noticed a gradual change in Ben whenever they came back to his vehicle and started for their next destination. He'd grown quiet and pensive, his gaze continually checking his rearview mirror as he navigated the streets of downtown Chicago.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, a frown furrowing his brow as he headed toward their next stop. "Do you know anyone who drives a white car?"

She automatically glanced over her shoulder and out the back window of the truck, her gaze searching the traffic behind them. It was close to rush hour, and all she saw was a sea of cars of various makes, models, and colors. "Why, is someone following us?" she asked anxiously.

"Well, that was nice and subtle," he said of her obvious rubbernecking.

"I'm sorry." She cringed, realizing her mistake too late. "It was just an instinctive response. What's going on?"

"It could be nothing, but I'm not one to take chances." He looked into his rearview mirror again. "There's a white car that seems to be following us from a distance, and has been since we left the office. I can't get a good feel for the make or model of the vehicle because it's too far away, but my guess is that it's a smaller, sporty model."

She thought for a moment, and it didn't take her long to realize who owned a white vehicle. "The last I knew, Jason drove a white BMW Coupe. I don't know if he still has it, though."

Without warning, Ben eased his truck over to the curb and came to a stop while the rest of the traffic kept driving by.

She glanced up at the tall building next to them in confusion, because it was nowhere near where they needed to go next. "What are you doing?"

He kept his gaze riveted on the mirror on his windshield. "I'm going to wait for the car to drive by and see who it is."

The man certainly knew his business. Curious as all heck to see the car's driver for herself, she sat there and waited not so patiently for the white vehicle in question to pass them. She didn't dare glance out the back window again, though she wanted to.

Less than a minute later he slammed his fist against the steering wheel and cursed beneath his breath, his frustration palpable.

Startled by his outburst, she jumped in her seat. "What's wrong?"

"The car turned down a side street before I could get a good look at anything worthwhile." He put the truck back into gear and segued back into traffic. "That leads me to believe it was someone who didn't want to drive by us, though I could be wrong."

Somehow, Christine didn't think that was the case, and the whole incident left her feeling uneasy and grateful to have Ben with her. She gave him the rest of the directions to their last errand, and they arrived across town in less than five minutes. This time, with no one following them.

"You need to pull into this upcoming parking structure," she said, and slid her date book back into her purse.

He did as she instructed, found a parking slot, and brought the truck to a stop. "Where do we need to go?"

She bit her bottom lip, unsure how Ben was going to take this next bit of news. "There's a men's clothing shop around the corner that you and I need to go to." It was an exclusive men's store her father frequented, where they also rented high-end formal attire.

That definitely grabbed his attention. "What for?"

She waited until they were both out of the vehicle and walking toward the men's store before explaining. "Did I happen to mention that the charity event this weekend is a black-tie affair? You know, the one you'll be escorting me to?"

A looming sense of dread swept across his features. "Uh, no."

"You wouldn't happen to have a tuxedo hanging in your closet at home, would you?" She already knew the answer to that question. Most likely the only suit he'd ever worn was his Marine dress blues.

He laughed, but the sound didn't hold much humor. "You're kidding, right?"

She held back a grin. "I didn't think so. Which means we need to get you one for this weekend."

"Why?"

Stopping in front of the shop, she faced Ben, who didn't look at all happy with the current turn of events. "Because this is a formal party, and bodyguard or pretend boyfriend, a nice suit is required."

He groaned like a man being taken to the gallows.

This time, she let a throaty laugh escape. "Don't worry. There's a fabulous tailor who works here, and I promise he'll be gentle in taking your measurements and getting you properly fitted. We'll be done in no time."

Ben grunted in reply, then held open the door for her in resignation. "Fine. Let's get this over with."