“Yes, sir.” Danny kept a straight face.
If the Colonel insisted on living in a state of denial, who was he to burst that bubble? You’d have to be blind not to realize how the man felt about Sylvia. Seeing her anew in that getup, Danny was quickly developing an appreciation himself. He looked away, knowing the Colonel wouldn’t like it if he caught him ogling.
What he didn’t know was, why on earth was he here?
“I have a favor to ask,” the man said.
Okay. Here it came.
“It’s a personal request.”
That piqued his interest—not that he hadn’t been curious already. The Colonel didn’t usually ask members of his top-secret team to a ball.
“Kaye Miller.” The man measured his words, his voice kept low. “She was in an accident a few days ago.”
Danny waited, not yet seeing any possible connection to him or the SDDU—the Special Designation Defense Unit of which he was a member and Colonel Wilson its commanding officer.
“It wasn’t an accident,” the Colonel went on, looking him sharply in the eye. “She is very important to me.”
Is she now? Danny glanced at Sylvia. He’d always assumed Sylvia was very important to the Colonel. Could have sworn he’d felt the tension between those two. Hell, half the unit were taking bets on them—no disrespect to the Colonel. Kaye Miller, though, she brought a whole new twist to the game.
“You want me to look into it?” He could do that. He hadn’t been assigned to a new mission yet. He might have a few days of downtime.
The Colonel shook his head. “I’d like to ask you to keep an eye on her.”
“Covert surveillance?” The SDDU didn’t get involved in that kind of everyday stuff unless major terrorist activity was suspected. “Have we got some new intelligence?”
The Colonel shook his head. “It’s not like that. As I said, it’s personal.”
Very interesting. “She needs a bodyguard?”
“Whatever you think is best. I just talked to her about it.”
“What does she want?”
“To live.”
A reasonable wish. Still, he didn’t care for the whole personal protection angle. Waiting and watching, that’s all it would be and for nothing most likely. He’d rather overtake an enemy stronghold any day of the week.
But it wasn’t every day the Colonel asked a personal favor.
“For how long?”
“until we figure out who tried to spread her on the tunnel wall.”
That sounded serious. “Didn’t hear the story on the news.”
“She managed to keep it out of the media.”
“Must have taken some effort.” Anything that happened to Kaye Miller was big news. She was one of the most influential women in politics, a beautiful widow recovering from a heartbreaking loss. She was the nation’s sweetheart, and rumor had it she might just become the first ever female, as well as the first ever African-American Speaker of the House of Representatives sometime in the near future. At a damn young age for the job, too.
He’d seen her on TV and in the papers dozens of times, but those images hadn’t done her justice. In person, she had a fragility to her, a haunted look that belied the strength shown in her straight spine and assuring smile. He was just as big a sucker as the rest of the country. His protective instincts had been flying high from the moment he’d spotted her across the room.
He supposed that’s why the Colonel had brought him along. Try to turn down helping her after he’d seen her, if he could.
“She’s waiting to meet you,” the man said.
Danny nodded. No harm in talking to her. He followed Colonel Wilson as he cut through the crowd, and wondered why someone would want to take out Kaye Miller. Everyone seemed to love her. Hell, even her political opponents had come out to support her after her husband’s death two years ago.
Then the Colonel stopped, and there she was. She looks smaller up close was Danny’s first thought as he returned her polite smile.
“Kaye Miller, this is Daniel DuCharme, a good friend of mine.”
“Danny.” He took her hand, caught the flash of surprise in her mahogany eyes, immediately masked, felt the brief brush of calluses on her palm and wondered how she’d gotten them.
“The Colonel says you’ll be helping me.” She looked at him with polite interest.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She asked no questions, no proof of experience of him. She must have known the Colonel well enough to accept his recommendation without reservations. Just how well was the question. He felt slightly affronted on Sylvia’s behalf.
“I’ll leave you to get acquainted. There’s somebody waiting for me.” The Colonel took Kaye’s hand and squeezed it, warmth and love and worry undisguised in his eyes.
She watched him leave as if reluctant to see him go.
Damn. The Colonel and Kaye Miller. Who would have figured? Not a bad match, though, if he thought about it. The Colonel was the best man he’d ever known, and the Majority Whip one of the most intelligent and beautiful women in the country. God knew, she deserved a little happiness after what she’d been through.
Why did the thought bother him then? Because he’d been rooting for Sylvia for years? Or because when he’d first seen Kaye Miller across the room, he had felt a pull of attraction himself, an almost predatory instinct that had kept his attention glued to her?
“Would you like a drink, Mr. DuCharme?” Her speech was cultured, matching the rest of her.
In theory, he had nothing against classy ladies. In practice, he found them too reserved and high-maintenance.
“Sure,” he said. “Why don’t we walk over to the bar?” She’d better not have thought that he would fetch her a drink. He was to be her bodyguard, not her assistant.
But she moved along as if that was what she had intended in the first place.
In addition to the waiters who circulated with crystal flutes on silver trays, a full-service bar stood in the corner of the ballroom. He put his hand gently to the small of her back to steer her through the crowd, then dropped it casually when he felt her stiffen.
The lady didn’t like to be touched. A shame, since she seemed to have been made for touching. None of his business.
“Where is your security?”
“Since the building is sufficiently secured, I’ve given them some time off. They’ll be here to pick me up at eleven.”
He didn’t say what he thought of that.
She turned back to pay attention to where she was going. Her black hair was piled high on her head, a few corkscrew tendrils escaping to dangle over her neck. She had an exotic look to her. If he hadn’t already known otherwise, he would have thought her Portuguese. He had a second cousin who’d come over from Lisbon a few years back. She had the same lightly tanned skin and dark hair. The similarities ended there, though.
Kaye Miller’s slim back tapered into an even thinner waist, accentuated by the cut of her dress. His gaze slipped to the curves below and he swallowed. Fine, fine, fine. He couldn’t see her legs under the long gown, but he would just bet there was nothing wrong with those, either. He could definitely see why the Colonel was attracted.
She stopped all of a sudden and faced him, forcing him to snap his attention to her big dark eyes that reflected a mix of trust and hesitation.
Something answered deep in his chest, cutting him off guard. Whoa. He damn well better back down—and now.
“Thank you,” she said. “I just want you to know how much I appreciate your help.”
He watched the first earnest expression he’d seen on her, going beyond her stock trustworthy-politician-slash-touch-me-not-I’m-a-widow look. For a split second, he could see behind the mask and found that he very much wanted to get to know the woman he saw there.
“Sister Kaye.” A stalwart African-American man pushed through the crowd to get to her.
“Congressman Webster.”
“I haven’t heard back fro
m you on my tax proposal yet.”
“I’m working on my own.”
“Yes, I know, but mine is specific to black Americans. I am sure you would want to support your people.” His voice was on the smarmy side.
“All my constituents are my people, Congressman. I’m trying to get a tax cut for the owners of all low-income businesses to give them a chance to grow.”
“I think we must remember, Sister Kaye, that a lot of our people voted for us. They deserve our special consideration.”
“I thought the point was to end special consideration and make sure everyone gets an equal chance.”
The man’s wide smile dipped into a grimace, but he remained polite. “Maybe I could stop by your office and try to convince you.”
“Of course. Marge can give you an appointment.” She sounded tired.
“I suppose you get asked for a lot of favors,” Danny said after the man moved on.
“Everybody in this business does. I love this country with everything I have.” She looked after Congressman Webster then back to Danny. “Our history holds wonderful things that make me proud beyond words, and it holds some unspeakably terrible things that make me want to cry. One does not cancel out the other. And yes, I know we can do better. That’s why I am here.”
The passion that stole into her voice surprised him. He had a cynical view of politicians.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve had a long day. I didn’t mean to sound defensive. I do like what I do. Some days are just more trying than others.”
He’d bet. Attending an award gala to celebrate the progress against multiple sclerosis, progress that had come too late to save her husband, and listening to patient testimonies had to be hard. And all that on top of a harrowing accident. Yes, the congresswoman had had a few difficult days lately.
And like that, on the spot, he made his decision. Kaye Miller had a number of things on her plate he couldn’t help with, but for as long as she needed it, he would keep her safe.
THE MAN who watched them from the shadows drummed his fingers against the side of his leg. He didn’t like the looks of the guy who was escorting Kaye through the crowd. Who the hell was he?
No matter. Their little chat would end sooner or later. He waved on a waiter who’d stopped by with a tray of champagne. Too early to celebrate. But the night was long, and at one point Kaye Miller would be alone in it.
Chapter Two
Daniel DuCharme was sitting too close.
On the rare occasion when she had a security escort, they never sat in the back of the car with her. Of course, Harrison and Green currently occupied the two front seats. She couldn’t very well be annoyed at DuCharme for not sitting on Green’s lap all the way home.
Kaye closed her eyes. Was that too rude? She didn’t feel like talking. The week had been even more exhausting than normal for the job. She hadn’t gotten enough sleep since the crash in the tunnel, spending half the night thinking about it, hoping to remember something that might give the police a clue, waking up frequently when she did sleep, her shoulder throbbing with pain every time she rolled on it.
She took a slow breath and thought about the weekend that stretched before her and tried to relax. She gave up after a few minutes and opened her eyes. “I hope I’m not inconveniencing you, Mr. DuCharme.”
“Danny,” he said again, shaking his head. “No inconvenience. I’m happy to help.”
He turned on a smile that brought a reluctant response to her face. As when watching some larger-than-life movie star on TV, whose on-screen presence and charisma comes through strongly enough to bring out a physical response in the viewer, she found that Daniel DuCharme had that kind of magnetism.
He was beautiful, although he probably wouldn’t have appreciated that description. His features were intensely masculine, but not in a rugged, tough-guy kind of way. He was the type who would make teenage girls giggle when they passed him on the street.
The man could have made a killing in Hollywood—or politics. Put that face and smile on TV and start counting the votes.
“How old are you?” The question slipped out, to her instant embarrassment. God, had she just asked that? If she’d learned anything from her work it was never to blurt anything. She’d spent years training herself to weigh carefully every word that came out of her mouth. She wasn’t herself. The stress was getting to her.
“Twenty-nine.”
“I’m sorry. That was none of my business.”
He shrugged, curiosity in his eyes, humor playing on his lips.
She shifted on the seat, causing the ample folds of her gown to spill over his lap. She pulled back the fabric.
Twenty minutes. In twenty minutes she would be home and she could go to bed and forget about the whole evening, the whole week in fact, everything until tomorrow morning.
She hoped.
Then Sadie, her best friend from college, would be here around noon. She had a six-hour layover on her way to the Middle East. Not nearly enough time for catching up, but as crazy as both their schedules were, they were happy for that much.
“Do you have a security system?” DuCharme—his eyes dark blue blending into gray—watched her with a focused interest she found unnerving.
She named the security company.
“That’s good.” He nodded. “Shouldn’t have any trouble augmenting that.”
He was full of unquestionable confidence. It radiated off him.
“You should discuss these things with Mr. Harrison.” She nodded toward the man behind the wheel.
“We’ll take care of everything, Congresswoman,” the redheaded agent called back, his voice deep and reassuring.
She liked that about him. Harrison was a fine bodyguard, a professional, in his late thirties, experienced, large-framed. He and Green made her feel as safe as was possible under the circumstances. Rarely had panic crept up on her as it had at the reception.
“The Colonel gave me a rough rundown, but would you mind giving it to me again? Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything,” Danny was saying.
She did mind. She was tired, and she needed some time to get used to her new bodyguard, a chance to grow comfortable around him. She nodded anyway.
“The crash happened Tuesday night, around midnight, on the way home from a friend’s birthday party. I was almost out of the tunnel when a black van pulled up next to me and pushed me right into the wall.” She swallowed, her heart beating faster as she recalled the confused panic of the moment.
“The Colonel said you didn’t think it was an accident.” The smile was gone from his face now, replaced with focused concentration, the patch of skin between his eyebrows furrowed.
“He kept doing it, wouldn’t let up. And when I finally stopped, he sped away.”
“You’re sure it was a man?”
“I think so. I didn’t see him. That’s the impression I got.”
He nodded. “Have you seen the van before?”
“I can’t say. It looked plain. I was struggling with the steering wheel, couldn’t pay much attention to anything else. And it was dark.”
“But you saw the parking tag?”
“They’re pretty bright.”
“I don’t suppose you remember the permit number on it?”
She shook her head.
He waited a beat. “Ever felt like you were being followed before the incident or since?”
She didn’t like the idea—creepy. But she made herself think back.
“No. Sorry. I’m not sure I would have noticed. I’m usually rushing around, planning what I need to do next, where I need to be.”
“Have you noticed anyone around you acting strange, out of the norm?”
Nothing beyond the sensation of being watched at the M.S. gala. And the person who’d watched her turned out to be him.
“I work on Capitol Hill. People act strange all the time. Everybody has secrets. Everybody has hidden agendas. Most of the people are working some angle at any given time.”
“Have you upset anyone lately?”
“I upset a lot of people on a daily basis, but I don’t think I upset them enough to want to kill me.”
He kept on with the questions, and she answered each. He was thorough, no doubt about that. And slowly she let down her guard and started to feel safe with him, perhaps because of his demonstrated thoroughness or perhaps because he was one of Cal’s men.
The hour was late enough for traffic to be easy even in Washington, D.C. They reached the tree-lined street she lived on in less than half an hour. Harrison pulled into the garage and she reached for her door, but DuCharme put a hand out to stop her.
“Hang on. Let me look around before you get out. Wouldn’t want any surprises.”
She stared at him, swallowing her flash of impatience with the delay. She was home, for heaven’s sake, in her own house. But she was too tired to have a talk about expectations right here, right now. Tomorrow she would set aside some time with the three of them, make the new guy understand how Harrison and Green were handling her security, find a way he could help.
She dug up her keys from her evening purse and held them out for him. “This one.” She pointed. “The security code is—”
“I’ll guess. It’ll add to the excitement,” he said, ignoring the keys, and was gone in the next second, slipping into the darkness of the side yard.
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
She leaned back on the leather seat, holding on to the keys. The phone number for the security company was in the drawer of the hall table. She could call them to let them know it was a false alarm when he set off the system. Still, he was bound to wake up the whole neighborhood. She looked into the night through the large window in the back of the garage. Should she ask Green to go after him?
“Who the hell does he think he is?” The man murmured under his breath, and, as if hearing Kaye’s unspoken thought, got out. The overhead light of the automatic garage-door opener reflected off his shaved head, the brown skin smooth. In that light, from that angle, he looked a little like Michael Jordan.
Harrison was too professional to comment, but in the rearview mirror she could see him roll his eyes.
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