by Elle James
Dix shook the woman’s hand, surprised at the firmness of her grip. “Sounds like an MMA call sign.”
Tazer shrugged. “Suits me. I guess you could say I earned it.” She raked her gaze over Dix. “So, you’re going to be Andrew Stratford’s bodyguard.” She let the smile spread a little wider. “Makes sense.”
Dix pulled her hand free of Tazer’s grip. “I’d like to get on to my assigned duties, if that’s possible.”
Tazer grinned. “More than possible.”
Dix glanced around at the faces all staring at her. Which one was the rich man she was supposed to protect?
Tazer chuckled. “It’s none of the men at the table. Mr. Stratford stepped out to take a call. He’ll be back in a minute. As far as I know, you start your assignment immediately.”
“In the meantime—” Molly pulled out a chair “—have a seat and a bowl of chowder. I won’t take no for an answer.”
The pretty redhead might be smiling and sunny, but Dix suspected she was as tough as the muscular men seated around the table. “Yes, ma’am.” Before she could sink into the chair, a deep, resonant voice spoke from behind her.
“I’m sorry. I need to leave. Leigha isn’t feeling well. If you could send the bodyguard over when he gets here, I’d appreciate it.”
“As a matter of fact, your bodyguard is here.” Tazer hooked Dix’s elbow and turned her around.
Dix stared at the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. He stood half turned toward the exit, only one side of his face visible. While all the other men in the room were dressed in jeans or khaki slacks, this man wore a dark suit that appeared to be tailor-made to fit his body to perfection. His dark hair was shortly cropped, showing a bit of a wave. And those ice-blue eyes...
Then he squared off, spinning to fully face the room of people. A jagged scar ran from the edge of his jaw all the way up to the corner of his eye.
Dix drew in a sharp breath. She hadn’t expected such a magnificent man to have such a wicked scar.
His dark brows drew together into a V over his nose. “Where is he?”
“Not he,” Tazer said in a slow, deliberate voice. “She is here and ready to go to work.” She shoved Dix forward a step.
The gentleman shook his head, his eyes tapering into little more than a slit. “I don’t understand. I asked for someone who could protect me and my family.” His gaze raked over her. “I don’t need another female in my household. I need someone strong and capable of protecting Leigha.”
Her shock at the rugged scar on his face morphed into anger roiling deep in her belly. Dix let it bubble up to the surface. Yeah, she was probably overreacting, but she’d put up with more gender discrimination than most women, and had to fight and claw her way through every leg of the journey that had brought her this far. “Just because I’m female doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself, or take care of you and your family.” She planted her fists on her hips and lifted her chin. “Go ahead. Try to take me down.”
“Uh, Dix, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Nova said. “He’s the client.”
Andrew Stratford raised a hand. “It’s okay. I don’t think she’s the right person for the job. If she can prove she is, I might reconsider.” He gave her a narrow-eyed, assessing glance. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She snorted. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not going to hurt me.” I might hurt you, she thought, but kept the comment from coming out. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll wrinkle your suit?”
Tazer’s lips tilted upward. “Mr. Stratford, you might be biting off a little more than you can chew. My boss wouldn’t send someone who couldn’t do the job, and Dix is more than qualified. I’ve seen her dossier.”
“I can’t trust her with my family until I know she can handle the job.”
Tazer shook back her beautifully groomed hair. “Okay, but take it out in the yard. You don’t want to damage Molly’s dining room.”
Molly bit her lip. “I don’t want you to damage yourselves.”
Another man stood and clapped his hands together. “I’ve gotta see this.”
“Creed, don’t encourage them.” A sandy-blond-haired woman stood.
He shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. “You’re a nurse. If someone gets hurt, you can stop the bleeding until the ambulance gets here.”
“That’s right,” Nova said. “We have Emma. She can stabilize the loser until the ambulance gets here.”
Mr. Stratford waved a hand toward the door. “Ladies first.”
Dix fumed at his condescension, but swallowed her anger and focused on teaching this man not to judge a book by its cover, or a woman by the color of her hair or the size of her body. With her head held high, she marched through the living area and out the front door, letting it close in the man’s face.
She didn’t stop until she was standing on the ground in front of the manor.
Footsteps behind her indicated Stratford had followed her.
Before she could turn to face him, strong arms circled her, clamping her own arms to the side.
Used to facing her opponents in the MMA, the sudden attack brought back memories of being held in captivity, bound tightly, unable to fight her way out. Panic almost set in. Two years of therapy came to her rescue. She breathed in and out, forced the bad thoughts to the back of her mind and shut the door on them. Then her thoughts flashed to the best way to extricate herself from the man’s strong hold.
“If you can’t defend yourself,” he whispered against her ear, “you can’t defend me or my family.”
Dix drew in another calming breath and let her body go limp, a complete deadweight in his arms.
Stratford staggered backward.
She slipped downward, bunched her legs beneath her and planted her feet in the dirt. Then she twisted her body, taking his with hers, flinging them both to the ground.
As they fell, his grip loosened to break his fall.
Dix rolled over, grabbed his arm and jerked it up and behind his back, forcing Stratford onto his belly. She straddled his hips, sat on his back and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Sorry I wrinkled your suit, Mr. Stratford. I’m also sorry I wasted your time. And, for the record, I’m not interested in protecting someone who doesn’t trust my ability to do the job. Thank you for the opportunity but no thanks. I’ll find another job.”
Dix released his arm and stood, stepping over his prone body. She turned back to the people gathered on the porch, clapping and cheering for her. She shook her head and repeated, “Thanks, but I don’t want the job.”
The cheering died down. Tazer descended the stairs, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean you don’t want the job?”
“I don’t. Mr. Stratford obviously doesn’t think a woman will suffice. I’ve fought my share of gender discrimination. I’m done.” She started toward the rental car, wondering how long her savings would last after she paid Fontaine back for the flight and the car rental.
Before she’d gone four steps, a leg shot out and swept her off her feet. She landed hard on her back, the air knocked from her lungs.
Stratford straddled her hips, grabbed her wrists and yanked them above her head, pinning them to the dirt. “Sorry I messed up your hair and smudged your makeup, but you can’t quit until I fire you.”
Dix gasped, her lungs remembering how to inhale. “I’m not wearing makeup. And it’s too late. I already quit.”
He shook his head. “I don’t accept your resignation.”
“You don’t have to.” She shoved at him and lifted her leg sharply, attempting to knee him in the back. “It’s not negotiable.” She grunted.
“I need someone to protect my family.” He scooted back on her thighs, trapping her legs on the ground. “Despite your bad temper, I want you to do it.”
She opened
her mouth to protest.
He released one of her wrists and pressed a finger to her lips. “I don’t have anyone else. I need someone temporarily until I can hire a full-time replacement. At least give me that.”
“I’m not your man,” she bit out.
“Call me crazy.” For the first time since she’d met the man, his lips twitched in something akin to a smile. “I don’t want a man. I want you.”
Chapter 3
Andrew wasn’t sure what made him tackle the female. Not only had he pinned her to the ground, he’d insisted she take the job. He told himself it was her stubborn determination to prove herself that had pushed him past his concerns. The heat of her thighs straddling his hips and the way she’d pressed her breasts against his back had nothing whatsoever to do with his decision. Though his skin still tingled and the warmth of her breath on the side of his neck lingered in the cool night air.
The plain facts were that he needed someone to keep track of Leigha and keep her safe from whoever was trying to hurt him. What worried him more was the secret friend Leigha went on and on about. Should the person actually exist, he had no business hanging around a six-year-old without her father’s permission. Until Andrew had a permanent fix for the situation, Dix Reeves would have to do.
And even if she were as attractive as she was tough, he wouldn’t hold that against her. He rose to his feet and extended his hand to the woman on the ground.
She shoved it aside, easily rolled to her feet and brushed the dust from her jeans. She moved like an athlete, with a spring in her step. Fast and strong, the woman could be an asset. At the very least, she’d be a good temporary solution to his needs. Tomorrow he’d log on to the internet and search for reputable bodyguard services. “If you’re ready to leave, I need to get home. As I mentioned, Leigha isn’t feeling well and I don’t like leaving her for very long with only Mrs. Purdy to protect her.”
Dix crossed her arms over her chest. “What part of ‘no thanks’ did you not understand?”
Ignoring her refusal, he walked to his SUV and climbed in. “Follow me. The road can be hard to find in the dark. And by the looks of it, the Devil’s Shroud is moving in.”
Dix shot a glance from Andrew to Tazer. “What’s he talking about?”
Tazer nodded. “He’s right. By the time you get back to his place, the Devil’s Shroud will make it very difficult to find your way.” Her lips twisted. “The folks around here have a flair for the dramatic. The Devil’s Shroud is what they call a thicker-than-pea-soup fog that blinds anyone trying to find their way through it. If you live here long enough, you will undoubtedly experience it firsthand. Probably tonight.”
Molly stepped forward. “They say that when the Devil’s Shroud rolls in, you can count on evil coming along with it.”
Dix snorted. “Well, I should be able to find my way to town and a hotel before it gets that thick.”
With a shrug, Molly glanced toward Andrew. “You might try saying ‘please.’”
Andrew pressed his lips together. As one of the most powerful traders on Wall Street, he’d been used to giving orders and having people follow them without question. Since the accident, he’d left that world behind. But that world hadn’t completely left him. He swallowed the desire to tell everyone to go to hell and forced out, “Please.”
Dix’s brows puckered and a smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Wow. That’s the best you can do?”
He growled before he could stop himself. “Take it or leave it.”
She hesitated, her gaze sweeping him from head to toe. As he expected, her perusal slowed on the scars he’d acquired in the accident.
Andrew fought the urge to turn his face away as well as to hide his hand from her all-seeing eyes. But he stood fast, refusing to back down. She’d see the scars on a daily basis; she might as well get used to them now.
When her gaze reached his toes, she looked up and nodded curtly. “I’ll take it. But only on a temporary basis.” She pointed a finger at him. “And not for you, but for your daughter. Hopefully she doesn’t have her father’s bad temper.”
Andrew slipped into the SUV without saying another word. He didn’t wait to see if she would follow, but pulled out of the gravel driveway and onto the paved highway.
Lights shone into his rearview mirror.
He let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and focused on driving through the increasingly thick fog along the curvy coastal highway leading toward his estate.
When she got too far behind, he slowed and waited. By the time he reached the turnoff to his driveway, the fog had completely taken over. Andrew waited for Dix to turn in behind him before he hit the button to activate the automatic gate opener. The gate remained open long enough for both cars to pass through. Then he was leading the way along the twisting drive to Stratford House, the mansion his grandfather had left to him.
Not until he was right in front of the structure could he see the lights glowing a hazy yellow from the main living room and one of the upstairs bedrooms. The rest of the house lay in shrouded darkness.
In the fog, the house resembled one of those Gothic buildings in a horror movie. Andrew wondered what Dix was thinking. Would she turn around and leave? Or would she accept the challenge, creepy house and all?
He got out and waited for her rental car to pull to a stop next to his SUV.
Dix climbed out of the vehicle and stared up at the three-story mansion. “This is where you live?” she asked. Her gaze shot to him.
“It’s my home,” he said.
“It’s big enough to be a hotel. No wonder you need help keeping track of your daughter. Someone could easily get lost in that house.”
“It was my grandfather’s,” he said, surprised at the defensiveness in his tone.
“Did he have a large, extended family, aunts, uncles and cousins who moved in with him?”
A smile pulled at the corners of Andrew’s lips. “No. He built it for his wife, whom he loved dearly.”
Dix shook her head. “Why?”
“Some say they had hoped to fill each room with children. Others think my grandfather and my grandmother liked making love in a different room every night. It gave them a multitude of options.”
Dix’s cheeks blossomed into a pretty shade of pink and she turned toward her rental car. “I’ll have a look around the house. As big as it is, it has to have multiple entry and exit points.”
“It does.”
She lifted a gym bag from the backseat of the car and straightened. “Do you check each one of them every night?”
“I do. It takes approximately fifteen minutes to check and secure all of them.” He held out his hand. “I can take that for you.”
She shook her head. “I can manage.”
“Where are the rest of your things?”
She lifted the bag. “This is it. I travel light.”
Andrew stared at her. She didn’t wear makeup and her blond hair was straight and neatly brushed. Jeans, a powder blue T-shirt and a slightly worn pair of running shoes made up Dix’s outfit. She looked like the girl next door. No. More like the tomboy next door. So completely different from his ex-lovers. Some of them had to have a new pair of shoes for every outfit. Several families could be supported for a year on the amount they’d spent on footwear alone.
He strode to the front door, inserted a key and threw open one side of the massive double-door entrance. Andrew waved his hand. “Ladies first.”
Dix’s eyes narrowed but she stepped past him into the three-story foyer.
“Wow, it’s as massive on the inside as it is on the outside.” Even though Dix spoke softly, her words echoed against the walls and marble floors.
Andrew closed the door behind him and twisted the dead bolt. “My grandfather and grandmother had a f
lair for the dramatic.”
“No kidding.” Dix spun in a circle. “Yeah, I can see where you could lose a kid in this.”
Andrew had been coming to his grandfather’s house since he was a small child. He was used to the grandeur. Seeing it through Dix’s eyes, he could understand how overwhelming it could be. Especially if you were tasked with protecting the occupants of such a large building.
“Oh, good. You’re home.” Mrs. Purdy, his housekeeper, hurried down the sweeping staircase. “Leigha was asking for you.”
“Any improvement?”
Mrs. Purdy’s lips pressed together. “None. She’s still running a temperature despite the anti-inflammatories and cool compresses. I think she’s a bit delirious, as well. When you didn’t come after she called, she asked for her imaginary friend.”
In the months Andrew had taken over the care of his daughter, he’d only had to contend with a case of the sniffles and an odd nightmare or two. Never a fever and delirium. “Should I call the doctor or take her to the emergency room?”
Mrs. Purdy shook her head. “Her fever has only been up to 102 degrees. If it goes higher, you should take her to the hospital. For now, she needs to sweat it out.” The older woman glanced back up the stairs. “I’d stay, but Mr. Purdy wasn’t feeling on top of the weather himself.” For the first time, the woman noticed Dix. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you back there.” She held out her hand. “I’m Dottie Purdy. And you are?”
Dix held out her hand and opened her mouth to reply.
Before she could, Andrew cut in. “Mrs. Purdy, this is Dix Reeves. She’s an old friend who will be staying with us for the next couple of weeks.”
Mrs. Purdy smiled and shook Dix’s hand. “Oh, that’s just lovely. This big old place needs more people to fill it up. I’ll be sure to add a plate to the dinner table tomorrow. Anything in particular you prefer to eat, or allergies to anything?”