The Protector

by Cristin Harber

  “Yeah,” she muttered. “Should I call the gatehouse? They might’ve heard it, and—”

  A phone rang from a desk beside them. Chance picked the receiver up without hesitation while she stared at it as though they were in a horror movie and the call was coming from inside the house.

  The conversation consisted of one-syllable agreements that could’ve doubled as grumbles or grunts.

  The distant wail of police sirens stole her attention.

  “Yeah, we hear them. Thanks.” He hung up, took her hand, and after a quick review of the monitors again, he led them toward the back of the house.

  “It’s shut.”

  “And still locked.” He tugged on the locked door to be sure and then flipped the latch and slid the door open.

  Jane followed behind him as he stepped onto a patio. The evening summer sky was filled with purples and oranges. If the alarm hadn’t just blared, she would’ve thought the setting ideal.

  Chance walked the edge of the patio and then glanced over his shoulder. “Are there many false alarms?”

  She shrugged, only having heard drills. Those were apparently conducted at half the volume as real alarms. “I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

  They walked back inside. Chance continued to check the rest of the house while Jane headed toward the front door, where the police were banging and announcing their presence. She rushed, certain that the paparazzi had come in with their cruisers.

  Sure enough, an arc of cameras pointed toward the home, filming and snapping the police cars with their lights spinning as she opened the door.

  Several police officers filed in, and Jane pointed them toward Chance. After a brief discussion, most of the uniformed officers did a thorough check of the house, finding the same thing Chance had found—nothing—while two others followed Chance toward the security office.

  Gigi was going to freak out. Jane found her cell phone and sat in the kitchen, wondering if this news would come better as a text or phone call. Really, she’d only know the correct answer if she knew Gigi’s current mood. Jane checked her social media and found nothing.

  Another knock came from the door, and a man announced himself as “from the alarm company” and then bustled by her. He knew where the office was, so she assumed letting him in was okay.

  Jane decided to call Lark before Gigi, but Jane only got Lark’s voicemail. Well, hell. She needed to let the Thanes know. Jane called Gigi and then Dax. Neither answered. Of all the days for everyone to go quiet.

  Chance, the alarm company man, and the two officers returned to the living room, announcing that a faulty sensor had expired. The alarm company said they would send someone out to repair it in the morning, and the officers said they’d tell the photogs it’d been a false alarm. They all knew it was wishful thinking to hope that would send them away. If Gigi and Dax were home, they’d be on the front driveway preening for the cameras. Even the most newbie gossip hound would believe there was a problem if the Thanes didn’t make an appearance.

  Jane assumed everyone would clear out as fast as they’d arrived. But she’d been wrong. An inordinate amount of care was taken to make sure the precious mammoth house was safe and that the reports were as detailed and well-written as could be mustered on electronic tablets.

  Several hours later, around midnight, Chance and Jane walked the remaining police to the front door, thanking them as they left. Cameras flashed. Videographers rolled next to their day-glow lights perched on tripods. Jane hadn’t peeked at the gossip blog websites, but she knew tonight’s excitement had made top-of-line news.

  Before the last of the police cruisers rolled away, a gray Tesla pulled up the driveway.

  “What timing,” Chance muttered.

  A roar of questions from the celebrity press pool ignited as Dax and Gigi parked in the center of their driveway—a first—and proceeded to pose for pictures while saying, “No comment.”

  Jane and Chance slipped back inside the front door, spying from a side mirror. The Thanes relished the onslaught of the cameras and questions, and Jane noticed they both had perfect hair and makeup. Weird look for a late-night while on vacation…

  The front door opened, and Gigi called for her without coming in.

  Jane groaned and trudged toward the commotion. She absolutely hated when Gigi used her as a pawn in her act.

  Chance stayed close behind her, and when they entered the foyer, the snapping camera lights behind Gigi sparkled like tiny explosions.

  “Oh, Jane!” Gigi grasped Jane’s shoulders, smoothly angling them for the perfect picture. “We came as soon as we got notice! Is everything okay?”

  Jane tried to tell her that everything was fine, but Gigi didn’t appear to be listening. Instead, she turned toward the reports, pressed a hand to her neck, and expounded on the terrifying events of the evening. “Just had a small break-in. Of course, very frightening, but we’re all okay. Everything’s insured, of course, with Thane Insurance, and at least our son wasn’t here. Something like that would really scar him for life…”

  Right, a broken sensor would scar him for life, but a Syrian refugee camp was all fun and games? Jane glanced at Chance. He remained off-camera and rolled his eyes.

  Gigi didn’t let Jane go as she continued to speak until Dax stepped forward. Gigi swiftly moved to him as the cameras swung his way. Jane inched back, unable to turn away. Their entertainment value was sickly addictive. She listened to Dax add his commentary and a rather lengthy tutorial on the importance of having a great insurance policy to cover one’s home. Ridiculously, the camera crews ate it up.

  Finally, after the reporters had gotten their fill of the Thanes, they thanked them and waltzed in the front door, waving like they were walking a red carpet.

  “Well, hello.” Gigi abruptly stopped in front of Chance, giving him a head-to-toe inspection. “You’re my new security man?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw Chance shift uncomfortably. She didn’t know if it was the way she spoke about him or the appreciative way she studied his body.

  “Yeah.” He extended his hand. “Chance Evans.”

  “I see. You’re very photogenic. You’ll do just perfect.” Gigi held her hand out as though she wanted him to kiss her knuckles. Instead, Chance gripped her awkwardly extended hand and gave it a quick shake. The corner of Gigi’s mouth tightened downward. “I see we have some work to do.”

  Before Jane could break up the uncomfortable exchange, Dax approached and shook Chance’s hand, speaking in his gruff-man voice, but still talking a mile a minute. “Yeah, man. Good to have you here. Thanks for all that help with the situation overseas. You’re a good man to have around.”

  Chance couldn’t get a word in edgewise, but from the look on his face, he didn’t want to. There was no doubt that he was ruing the day he’d accepted the Thane assignment. If he thought they were bad now, all he had to do was wait. Jane didn’t put it past Gigi to insist Chance wear face powder or prance around shirtless or whatever she thought might get the miniseries better ratings.

  Whatever was going to happen, it definitely would get a lot worse before—she stopped herself before thinking that it would get better. Because it wouldn’t. The job would end. Chance would leave.

  Their time playing house and imagining their football teams of children was officially over.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Chance sat at the poolside cabana, directly across from Jane’s house, massaging the migraine from his temples. It had been four days since the Thanes returned. And precisely four days since he started wondering why the fuck he’d decided to accept this assignment.

  Jane, he reminded himself as he took his hundredth glimpse of her house, right across the pool. She was likely in there, with Teddy, doing her best to keep him occupied while Gigi Thane busied herself getting ready for another day of shooting the Thane family documentary.

  In Chance’s opinion, documentary wasn’t the best description for the tabloid-esque reality
show that Gigi had orchestrated. Jane had said she would do as much as possible to keep Teddy’s time at home out of the public eye, so whenever the cameras were around, he never saw them.

  But when he and Jane were off the clock, and the camera crews were gone for the day, and Teddy was tucked into bed, Chance kept Jane in his bed.

  The Thanes hadn’t picked up on their relationship, and he’d guessed that Lark kept what she saw to herself. He hadn’t seen Lark since his first day. Neither Gigi nor Dax asked where Chance had been sleeping. They’d passed his housing assignment along as though he’d just arrived—as though the world stopped and started with their arrival.

  His place was perfect; an apartment over their six-car garage. The space was meant for the chauffeur. However, Dax considered himself a car enthusiast and didn’t employ a chauffeur. From what Chance could gather, Dax’s enthusiast title was merely a loose description for driving like a maniac with blatant disregard for speed limits and stop signs.

  The best part of Chance’s apartment was the location. It was only a two-minute walk across the vast grounds to Jane’s cottage. They got their “together” time, and no one was the wiser.

  One of the sliding glass doors that fed onto the deck opened, and the now-familiar sound of a camera crew spilled out. From his vantage point, he could see the group without turning, but it was another bodyguard who went by Pennebaker that held Chance’s attention.

  Pennebaker’s bald head shined in the reflection off the pool as he lumbered down the deck stairs and lifted his chin to Chance. “Midas.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “You’re up.”

  Chance managed not to groan. He’d been artfully positioned poolside by one of the camera crew people, and he wasn’t in the mood to move from location to location all day as though he were furniture. Who the hell would’ve thought he’d miss the routine of Abu Dhabi with its opulence and a makeshift war room?

  “Good luck,” Pennebaker muttered as he pulled out a chair next to Chance and took up his poolside assignment.

  Before Chance had the opportunity to stand, Gigi leaned over the deck railing and snapped her fingers at him. “Chance, please come here.”

  Pennebaker readjusted his chair and gave a subtle but knowing glance. “Good thing she pays well.”

  The pay was nice, but the perks—or, rather, one beautiful perk who made his fucking dick twitch—were what kept Chance on the clock for a woman like Gigi, who snapped at him like a dog.

  Still, he readjusted his sunglasses and hoofed it up the stairs and onto the deck. The production crew focused on Gigi drinking a tall glass of iced tea as though she hadn’t just snapped for his attention.

  “Mrs. Thane.” He greeted her as professionally as he could muster. She wore a bikini and a sarong suitable for an island vacation and posed with a hand on her hip. He wasn’t trying to eyeball her, but it was hard to ignore the skimpy bathing suit. Chance shifted uncomfortably, very aware that any reaction would be caught on film.

  After a deliberate assessment, Gigi placed the iced tea glass on the rail and peered over her dark sunglasses. “Chance, honey, where is your gun?”

  Honey and gun. Two words he hadn’t expected to come from her mouth. He gave her a look. Is this a trick question? Another opportunity to showboat for the cameras? He pulled off his own sunglasses. “Why?”

  “Well, you do have a shoulder holster, don’t you?” She stared at him expectantly, as if she really wanted him to have a conversation about his gear. “I’m sure you know that women go crazy for a man in a shoulder holster.” Gigi winked for the camera. “Especially this one.”

  He had a shoulder holster, but since it was balls hot and he liked to carry on his hip or small of his back, he never thought to wear it. But it didn’t matter. He was Aces, not a movie star or prop. Chance cleared his throat. “Ma’am,” he said, aware that calling her the M-word would have a chilling effect. “Can we have a minute, please?”

  Her lips pinched at the corners and then flicked her hand to the side.

  “Cut,” a man called, and the crew morphed into a flurry of chatting and repositioning.

  “What?” she asked tersely.

  “My superiors didn’t know there’d be a camera crew here.”

  “Yet they are.” She took a sip of her iced tea and then waved her hand. A woman scurried over and powdered Gigi’s face.

  “I’m positive that your contract with my company won’t allow you to air video footage of me.”

  “That’s why we stopped the shot. For an explanation of contracts?” She scowled.

  The urge to walk away needled under his skin. “I don’t want to waste your time.”

  She tilted her head and ogled him. “How could you possibly do that?”

  “They’ll need to edit me out of whatever media thing you’re doing.”

  She drew a heavily-pink-painted lower lip under her top teeth and sighed. “Chance. Don’t be like that.”

  “Like what?”

  She sauntered closer. “We could be having so much fun.”

  His jaw tensed, acutely aware of her tone and positioning. “I didn’t take the job to have fun.” He willed her to back off. “Actually, the security briefings I’ve been privy to have been few and far between. I’m not sure that you need me here.” Though he’d do it all again for more time with Jane. “Definitely not on camera.”

  She took off her sunglasses and pouted. “Think of the opportunities this could open for you. I mean, Dax is cute and funny and handsome. But you? You’re sex on a cracker, Chance. Women would go crazy for you. It’s a shame they’ll have to miss out.”

  Chance sucked in a breath, understanding why she’d requested him by name. His superficial good looks were as much home décor accents as her designer candles. “Yeah, a real shame.”

  Gigi dismissed him with a cold roll of her eyes, demanding he return to the background and for Pennebaker to return.

  He didn’t wait for her to finish pouting. Chance high-tailed it off the deck, broke the bad news to Pennebaker, and settled under the poolside cabana, counting down the minutes until he could see Jane again.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Jane waited until she was positive Teddy had gone to sleep for the night. When his quiet breaths found an even cadence, she kissed his forehead and slipped out of his bedroom. The main house was quiet as she crept down the hallway. Both Gigi and Dax were home but retired to their quarters. Part of her wondered why they didn’t tuck their little boy in, and part of Jane knew the sad answer. Tucking him into bed never crossed their minds.

  This time of day should’ve been her favorite part of the day. It usually was. Within minutes, she would be at her place, and Chance would knock on the door. They would fall into bed. The rest of the world would disappear. But right now, she wanted him to hug the world away.

  “Why so glum, Mary Poppins?”

  She jerked toward his voice and found Chance sitting in a chair, illuminated by the pool and moonlight. “I didn’t see you there.”

  He pushed from the chair as though he were a century old. “Is everything okay?”

  She walked to him, feeling like she could breathe better near him. “Nothing I haven’t mentioned before.”

  He didn’t respond, instead taking her hand in his and leading her to her cottage. Warmth radiated from his hand, and while his touch could soothe her soul, she still needed to be wrapped in his arms.

  They walked through her door. If it had been any night before, they would have jumped each other, tearing clothes off, and trying for a how-was-your-day conversation in fits and bursts until he slid into her body, killing off the remnants of a conversation that would be picked up against later.

  Instead, she shut the door and curled into his chest. He didn’t reach for the lights or the hem of her shirt but rested his chin on top of her head and held her close.

  “That’s exactly what I need right now,” she whispered.

  “Rough day?”

  Jane nodded. “
Yeah.”

  Chance pulled her toward the couch, and they tangled together in the dark.

  “They don’t tell him good night.” Her voice broke, and her eyes threatened to water. “I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much tonight. But it is.”

  He stroked the back of her head.

  “He’s such a sweet kid.”

  Chance nodded. “Seems like it.”

  “And, it’s crazy to say he deserves better. He’ll never want for anything. He’s set for life. But it just seems so, so…”

  “Heartbreaking.”

  “Yes,” she cried. “And I don’t know how he can have both everything and nothing.”

  “That’s easy.” Chance inched her from his chest and caught her eye. “The best things in life aren’t things.”

  “I really wish I was Mary Poppins.” She snapped. “I could fix Teddy’s problems. Get rid of the camera crews and move his aunt into the mansion next-door.”

  “That would be one hell of a good start.”

  Face to face, they laid together, legs entangled, holding each other in a weighty silence. She snuggled against him and drew patterns on his chest. The smallest amount of moonlight mixed with the blue light from the pool, filtering through her windows. It cast a silvery glow over them. “Why were you sitting by yourself in the dark?”

  Chance inhaled a long breath and let it out slowly. “Long day.”

  She recalled his interaction with Gigi and grimaced. “What she said is still bothering you?”

  He tensed. “You heard that?”

  Jane nodded. “Sorry. She shouldn’t objectify you like that.”

  “She shouldn’t objectify anyone like that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sex on a cracker,” he finally muttered. “Who says that?”

  Jane snickered. “If you think about it, it’s kind of a weird thing to say.”

  Chance snort-laughed. “Cheese on a cracker works. Sex on a cracker, not so much.”

  “And…” She leaned closer as though she had a secret to tell. “I think she has a crush on my man.”