By Honor Bound

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  He looked over. “Like a canary, only bigger. Was bird watching another thing you pestered the gardener about?”

  “Yes. In fact, I used to keep a journal of all the species that visited our garden each year.”

  He turned back, his eyes steady on hers. “The Vandevere sisters were right. You do know just about everything.”

  “If only that were true.” She ducked her head, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “What was your favorite subject in school?”

  “Recess.”

  She couldn’t help giggling. “And after that?”

  “Math. Science.”

  “Really?” Now she was hooked. “Why did you like those best?”

  “Math follows simple logic that never changes. I’ve always liked that.”

  Yes, she thought. A man like Micah Lassiter would prefer simple, straightforward logic. It suited him perfectly.

  “As for science, there were all those unknowns.” He chuckled. “I never could resist a challenge.”

  She leaned forward, her eyes shining. “I love mental challenges.”

  “How about physical ones?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve always been too timid to accept physical challenges. I’m a good swimmer, but it never would have occurred to me to join the swim team in high school. The same for the equestrian team. I loved riding, and had my own mare when I was younger, but I just couldn’t bear the thought of competing.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. At least you got away from your laptop once in a—” His words trailed off as he stared beyond her.

  She started to turn. “What is it?”

  “Wait.” He closed a hand over hers. “Don’t turn just yet. Instead, let me help you to your feet.”

  He was already around the table and taking her hand in his, drawing her up and into his arms.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Micah?”

  “It’s the Vandevere sisters.” He pressed his lips to a tangle of hair at her temple. “They’re up on their rooftop garden watching us. I just caught sight of them hovering near the wall.” He turned her slightly so she could take a peek without being too obvious. “And though I can’t be certain, I think one of them is holding a pair of binoculars. At least that’s what I think is glinting in Octavia’s hands. See?”

  Pru started to pull back. “Micah. They’ll think we’re kissing.”

  “Exactly.” Without warning he drew her closer. His lips claimed hers. And though he’d intended it to be a joke on two old ladies, the joke was on him. Without any warning, he felt the quick sizzle of heat, and then the flood of warmth through his veins.

  She tasted so sweet. Like her flowers. She felt so good here in his arms. So normal. As though he’d come home. And though he knew better, he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

  “Micah.” She whispered the word against his lips, which only seemed to inflame him more.

  “I know. We’ll stop. In a minute.” Right now, right this moment, it didn’t matter that he had no right to touch her. All the blood seemed to have drained from his brain, emptying his mind, stealing his will.

  Pru melted against him. She’d never felt arms this strong. Or a need so urgent. With just a single kiss he had the ability to wipe her mind clean. To eliminate all her inhibitions. It didn’t matter that the Vandevere sisters were watching. Let the whole world watch. If she could, she would go on like this forever. Held in Micah’s arms. Pressed to that hard, muscled body, while her bones melted, and her pulse rate speeded up until she felt as though she’d been running up a steep hill.

  “Well.” When at last he found the strength to lift his head, Micah continued holding her while he struggled for breath. “I guess I’d better start cleaning up.”

  “I’ll…help you.”

  As they stepped apart and began clearing away the remains of their picnic, Pru shot him several quick glances.

  What was it about this man that had her behaving so strangely? She had never in her life been so bold. And yet, if he were to kiss her again right this minute, she would react in exactly the same manner.

  To end the awkward silence between them, she asked, “Is our audience still there?”

  At her question, she saw Micah glance toward the rooftop garden. Then he smiled, and she felt the quick flutter around her heart.

  “Still there. And now I think I detect two pairs of binoculars. I wonder what they’ll do when we leave?”

  “Maybe it’s time to find out.”

  They were grinning like two conspirators as they carried the bags indoors. But once inside, they went their separate ways, Pru to her apartment to clean up, and Micah to try to get some work done.

  As they parted, Micah stood in the doorway and waited until Pru’s door closed. The last thing he saw was her smile as she turned away. He waited until she threw the lock before closing the door to the professor’s apartment.

  It was time for a little soul-searching, he realized. Things were going in a direction he hadn’t anticipated.

  He needed to back off and give her, and himself, some space before this got out of hand.

  Chapter 7

  “Allen Street here.”

  “Allen.” Micah sat at Professor Loring’s desk, glancing at the stack of reports he was preparing to fax. “Will just told me there was another contact. Did it contain a threat?”

  “Not a threat, exactly. Just more rambling and twisted anger. But my people believe he’s slipping closer to the edge.” Street’s voice sounded rough with nerves. “I found the e-mail this morning when I got to the office. The FBI is already analyzing it.”

  “Do your operatives think they’re getting any closer to learning this guy’s identity?”

  “They say it’s only a matter of time.”

  Time. Micah tried to keep the edge of annoyance from his tone. “Allen, I’ve been on the job for more than two weeks now. Two weeks of spending every waking hour with your daughter, on one pretext or another. But the lies are stretching thin. I’ve already had the Children’s Village beef up their security as much as possible. They’ve cooperated completely. I can’t spend too many more days there without drawing suspicion.” He paused, then decided to charge full-speed ahead. “I think it’s time you told Pru the truth.”

  “You’ve had time to get to know my daughter, Micah. I’m sure you’ve noticed that our relationship is…strained, to say the least. The more I try to reel her in, the more she’ll just push away.”

  “Do you think it’s fair to put her in harm’s way without any warning?”

  “Harm’s way?” Street’s tone sharpened. “That’s why you’re there. To see that she isn’t harmed.”

  “But I have to keep lying about who I am and what I’m doing here, and I’m tired of the lies.”

  “I see.”

  Micah heard the edge of anger.

  “So this isn’t about Pru. It’s about you.”

  Maybe it was, Micah thought wearily. He and Pru had been seeing each other daily at the Chil dren’s Village, as well as every evening. The truth was, he’d begun to look forward to their time together. After work they’d explored half a dozen different restaurants, as well as every carryout in the area. They’d been careful not to let themselves get caught up in any romantic knots since the picnic, but they both seemed to sense that a storm was building. A simple touch was enough to trigger lightning and thunder. What would they do if things slipped out of control?

  “I don’t like lying, Allen.”

  “I’m not worried about offending your particular code of ethics, Lassiter. All that matters to me is my daughter’s happiness. And since my people don’t feel that there’s been any threat to her personal safety yet, I’m going to have to refuse your request. I want Pru kept in the dark about this.”

  “It’s your show, Allen.”

  “That’s right. I’m the producer, director, and until this nut is caught, the reluctant star. And I pray every day that it’s all a false alarm.” The voice at
the other end of the line sounded suddenly exhausted beyond belief. The tension was beginning to take its toll on everyone. “Fax those reports now. I’ll have Will contact you as soon as there are any leads in this case.”

  “Right.” Micah hung up the phone, then began faxing the documents.

  He glanced out the window and caught sight of Prudence walking along the flagstone path in the garden with Randall and Helena Crispin. As he studied her, Micah found himself frowning.

  He’d expected the daughter of one of the richest men in the country to be a pampered ice princess. A queen of excess. Instead, he’d found her to be as normal as the girl next door. A bright, funny, shy, sweet and very vulnerable woman.

  And he was falling for her. Falling hard.

  The last thing he’d expected was to lose his heart to the woman he’d been hired to protect. But that’s what was happening here. And he couldn’t afford to have feelings for her. It went against everything he’d ever learned. He needed to keep a distance between himself and the client, for the sake of objectivity.

  The client.

  Every day that passed made it harder for him to think of Prudence Street as a client. Still, if he wanted to keep her safe from all harm, that’s exactly what he needed to do.

  He put in a call to his office, then sat tapping a pencil as he waited for the phone to be answered. He knew his business was being carefully managed in his absence. But with every passing day he found himself wishing he’d refused Allen Street’s initial request.

  If he’d never met Prudence Street, he could have spared himself a lot of misery.

  Pru stirred the spaghetti sauce, tasted, then turned the heat down to simmer. Instead of eating in the kitchen, she’d decided to set two places on the glass-topped table in the great room, to take advantage of the garden view.

  When she’d finally summoned the courage to ask Micah to dinner, he’d made it so easy. But then, Micah Lassiter seemed to make everything easy. Since he’d taken over the professor’s apartment, her whole life felt as though it had changed. From winter to spring. From barren to blooming. And she had changed with it. From shy to bold. Well, she amended as she fussed with the candles in crystal holders, not yet bold. But not quite as shy as before.

  At the knock on the door, she hurried to peek out before throwing the safety.

  “Hello. You’re right on time.”

  “When a man’s hungry, he’s never late.” Micah stood on the threshold with both hands behind his back. “Which do you choose? Door number one or door number two?”

  This was a playful side to the man that never failed to surprise her. She seemed as delighted as a child at the game. With a laugh she touched a hand to his left arm. “This one.”

  “Good choice. That’s door number one.” He brought his hand around with a flourish to reveal a glorious bouquet of spring flowers. A mass of deep purple lilacs and golden daffodils, delicate white baby’s breath and trailing ivy.

  “Oh, Micah.” Pru buried her face in the bouquet and breathed deeply. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Almost as beautiful as the woman holding them.” He winked. “Now, how about door number two?”

  “More surprises?” She waited while he brought his right hand from behind him to reveal a bottle of red wine. Seeing it she laughed. “You’re going to spoil me.”

  He tugged on a lock of her hair. “You? Not a chance. But I think it would be fun to try.”

  “Come on. The wine will be perfect with my pasta.” She led the way to the kitchen. After handing him a corkscrew, she filled an elegant crystal vase with water and carefully arranged the flowers before carrying them to the other room, where she placed them on the mantel. Their perfume quickly filled the room.

  When she returned to the kitchen, Micah was just pouring wine into two stem glasses. He handed one to her.

  She accepted it, feeling the quick flutter of nerves when their fingers brushed. “What are we drinking to?”

  He touched his glass to hers. “To good friends.”

  She struggled to keep her smile in place. She’d foolishly hoped he would say something more romantic. And all because of Octavia and Odelia. Those two old sweethearts were constantly putting thoughts in her head. Making her think about things better left alone.

  “To good friends,” she said as she lifted the glass to her lips.

  “And, judging by the wonderful aroma in this kitchen, good food as well.” He glanced toward the stove. “Is that spaghetti sauce I smell?”

  “I hope you like pasta.”

  “I love it.” He turned toward the loaf of garlic bread. “Want me to slice this?”

  “If you’d like. I was just going to fix our salads.” She tore lettuce, chopped fresh green tomatoes, peppers and chives from the farmers’ market, and tossed them with a little olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

  While she worked she could feel him nearby, slicing the bread and arranging it on a platter. It should have seemed awkward having Micah working beside her in the kitchen, but instead it felt comfortable. There was something about this quiet, competent man that put her at ease. That is, until he touched her. Then sparks flew, setting off all manner of fires inside her.

  Micah picked up the platter. “Where would you like this?”

  She nearly jumped before she managed to take a quiet breath. “I thought we’d eat in the great room.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  When he left, she sipped her wine to soothe her dry throat. Then she tossed angel-hair pasta into boiling water.

  By the time Micah returned to the kitchen, she was draining the pasta. He leaned a hip against the counter and watched. “I’d say you’ve done this a time or two.”

  She laughed. “Pasta’s easy. It’s one of the first things I learned to make for myself when I left home.” She arranged it on a platter, then added the sauce.

  Micah moved up beside her. “Want me to carry this?”

  “All right. I’ll bring the wine.” She followed him to the table and topped off their glasses, before lighting the candles.

  He held her chair, then sat across from her. He nodded toward the garden outside her window. “Great view.”

  “That’s why I wanted to eat in here. I love looking at the flowers.”

  “According to the Vandevere sisters, you’ve worked miracles out there.”

  Pru laughed. “You know how Octavia and Odelia carry on. The truth is, Professor Loring was doing a fine job on the garden. But the poor dear just didn’t have enough time to spend.”

  “And you did?”

  She ducked her head. “My social calendar wasn’t overcrowded.”

  “By design, I’d say.” He broke off a piece of garlic bread. “How did you happen to choose this apartment building? It’s not exactly geared to the hip party crowd.”

  “A friend of the family recommended it. When I investigated it, I found it to my liking.”

  “And all these exciting neighbors?”

  Her flush deepened. “I’ve always been more comfortable around older people.”

  “I see.” He sat back. “I didn’t realize I was over the hill.”

  “I didn’t mean you…” She stopped when she saw his quick, devastating smile and realized he was teasing her. She decided to relax and play along. “Well, I have been meaning to ask how old you are.”

  “Thirty-three. Practically ready for social security. How about you?”

  “Twenty-seven. I’ll be twenty-eight next month.”

  Though he’d known that, it was a jolt to hear her say it aloud. She seemed, in some ways, so childlike. There was a freshness, an innocence about her that belied her age. As though she’d sprung, fully grown, without any of life’s normal experiences.

  He filled his plate with pasta, then nodded toward hers. “Did you want some of this? Or are you waiting to see if I survive before you taste it?”

  She was laughing as she held out her plate. “You’re lucky I’m willing to share. Usually I e
at this much all by myself.”

  He shot her an admiring glance. “Sorry. There’s no way that little body could hold all this.”

  “Don’t be fooled. I may forget to eat, but when I make my special spaghetti sauce, I’m like a bottomless pit.”

  He tasted, then gave a look of surprise. “This is even better than Pop’s.” He lowered his voice. “Of course, we can’t let him know that. It would break his heart.”

  “Your grandfather’s a good cook?”

  “Yeah, he exchanges recipes with every woman in the neighborhood. When we were younger, he used to take us to the playground and sit there with all the women, gabbing about housework and yellow waxy buildup on his kitchen floors. The old schemer plied them all with his charm. My mother used to accuse him of having more lady friends than she had.”

  “He sounds delightful.”

  Micah sat back, sipping his wine. “Yeah. He’s pretty amazing. The day my dad died, he stepped in and kept my family going. And he’s been there ever since.”

  Pru twisted the napkin in her lap, thinking about how different their families were. She loved hearing stories about Micah’s grandfather and mother, his sister and brothers. It would be fun to talk about her own father in that same light manner. But though she wanted to tell him about her background, she held back, afraid it would change the easy relationship she and Micah had begun to develop.

  In the past, men had always treated her differently the minute they learned that she was the daughter of Allen Street. Either they were intimidated by his enormous wealth, and backed off completely, or else they tried to force a relationship, not because of her, but rather because of what they stood to gain.

  It always came down to the money.

  With Micah, it was different. He had no idea who she was. He liked her just for herself. This friendship was too new, too fragile, to risk damaging with the truth. And so she resisted the urge to take him into her confidence.

  “More pasta?” His voice was low and easy, as though not wanting to intrude on her thoughts.

  She looked up and saw him studying her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he could even read her mind. “No, thanks. I think I’d better quit while I can still walk. Besides, I have dessert.”