As her father had.
She winced as the thought trotted through her brain. She’d sworn never to need a man. She wasn’t going to start with this one.
THE WHIRRING SLIDE OF the elevator doors opening into the suite brought Bobby awake. Jane hugged the edge of the bed, as far away from him as she could get.
He frowned. Maybe she just liked to sleep without being all tangled together. Personally, he liked it.
His fingers closed around his gun as he crept toward the bedroom door. Lucky growled—more annoyed than angry. Not a drug dealer, then, but someone she didn’t like.
Bobby scooped up his boxers and stepped into them, then he stood behind the door as it slowly opened.
The instant the intruder inched into the room he had his elbow across a windpipe and his gun pressed to a foolish head.
Jane sat up, clutching the sheet to her naked breasts. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed. She glanced toward Bobby and her lips quirked.
“Good morning, Mother,” she said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BOBBY RELEASED SENATOR Harker as if she had a flaming case of leprosy. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
She turned, giving him an icy stare. He snapped to attention. Unfortunately, there was another part of him at attention that could not be disguised by flimsy boxers.
His face heated and the senator’s perfectly plucked brows lifted. “And you are?”
“Luchetti, Captain Robert.”
“Don’t bother to salute,” she drawled. “So you’re the brightest and the best Delray has to offer? Does the good colonel know you’re boffing my daughter.”
“Mother, really. Boffing? I’m thirty years old. If you’re going to sneak into my bedroom at 7:00 a.m., you’re going to see things you weren’t meant to see.”
Jane got out of bed with the sheet wrapped around her and tossed Bobby his pants. They hit him in the face. He wasn’t reacting too quickly this morning. At least not from the waist up.
“When did you get over your aversion to men who carry guns?”
“When other men started pointing them at me with obscene regularity,” Jane muttered.
“Hmm.” Senator Harker glanced at Bobby. “How did you get past the guards?”
Bobby stood there, uncertain if he should get dressed or continue to pretend he wasn’t in his underwear, trying to tame the hard-on of a lifetime in front of the mother of his…
Jane.
“He’s Delta Force,” Jane answered, and Bobby took the opportunity to set his gun aside and slip into his pants.
The problem was, he couldn’t find his shirt. It was probably under the bed. He took a quick glance around the room and stifled a wince. Or maybe hanging from the lamp. He’d have to do without it.
“I’m aware of his affiliation, Jane.”
“Then you should know that he can get in wherever he wants, whenever he wants.”
“Not exactly,” Bobby protested.
“Well, in here, anyway. The guards were a joke.”
“Were they?” The senator looked displeased.
The elevator whirred again. Bobby reached for his gun. Senator Harker’s eyes narrowed into a contemplative stare.
“Delray?” she called.
“Ma’am,” the colonel answered.
Bobby left his weapon on the nightstand.
“Get in here.”
Jane made a disgusted sound and stomped into the bathroom. Bobby stood at attention and waited for his career to go down the toilet.
Colonel Delray stepped into the bedroom; his gaze swept over the well-used bed and settled on Bobby, wearing nothing but his black pants.
“Sir,” Bobby said.
“Not you, Luchetti.” The colonel shook his head. “Not you.”
Bobby wasn’t sure what to say. I couldn’t help myself was probably not the best defense.
He’d been taught to withstand torture, extreme heat, unbelievable cold, boredom, adrenaline—pretty much anything. Yet a week in Jane’s company and he’d lost all control of himself. He had no excuse. So he remained right where he was and waited for the worst.
He could always be a farmer. Yippee.
“Luchetti, get dressed and meet me—”
“Just one minute,” the senator interrupted.
“I’ll take care of this.”
She shot the colonel a glare that would have peeled paint off a porch. “According to my daughter, the guards are a joke. This man can get in anywhere he wants to, whenever he wants to.”
The colonel shrugged. “No doubt. But I didn’t think he’d try to get in here.”
“I want him to be her bodyguard.”
“Excuse me?” the colonel and Bobby blurted at the same time.
“He’s already interested in her body. I’m sure he’s going to want to protect it.”
“But, Senator, he’s Delta Force. He can’t operate in this country.”
“He isn’t going to operate. He’s going to protect Jane.”
“I can’t assign an expensively trained man like Luchetti to baby-sit. He’s got terrorist cells with his name on them.”
Bobby cleared his throat. “Sir, have you asked the senator about what I learned?”
Senator Harker snorted. “There’s no conspiracy. No one’s blackmailing me with Jane. I wouldn’t allow it. But for some reason—probably money—someone is after her.” Her gaze sharpened. “You do know I’m a very wealthy woman.”
“No, ma’am.”
The issue of money had never come up—probably because too many other things had.
“Hmm.” She didn’t seem to believe him.
“Someone wants her dead,” Bobby pointed out. “What does that have to do with your money?”
She didn’t answer, just continued to stare at him until Bobby wondered if his fly was open, but he didn’t have the guts to look.
“You’d do better to have Luchetti find out who’s after your daughter than waste his talents protecting her,” Delray said.
“I want the best. According to you, he’s it. Make this happen, Delray.”
The senator tapped her foot impatiently. The colonel appeared a little ill. Bobby had to wonder why his superior was letting her order him around. Was everything about money?
With the government and the military, sadly, the answer was often yes.
A better question would be, why was the senator behaving so oddly? She wanted Jane protected, yet she didn’t seem to want the culprit apprehended, and that just made Bobby’s teeth itch.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
“You can’t,” Delray began. “You’re Delta and—”
“I’m on leave.”
The colonel blinked. “That’s right. You are.”
“If I choose to spend it with Jane…” He spread his hands.
“Not my business.” The colonel grinned. Problem solved.
Jane barreled out of the bathroom as if she’d seen a rat, although Bobby had a hard time believing she’d care one way or another about a rodent.
She was dressed in cream slacks and a shirt that was almost pink, but not quite. Her hair was twisted into some fancy knot on the back of her head. Which only made his fingers ache to take it down. The bruises on her face were turning a lovely shade of puce. He barely noticed.
She was an Amazon warrior queen, and she’d come to defend him.
“Don’t even think about punishing him, firing him, sending him to Siberia or wherever it is you send people nowadays.” She jabbed a finger at the colonel’s nose. “If you so much as look at him crosswise, I’ll create the biggest media stink you’ve ever seen. I learned something from you, Mother.”
“Relax, Jane. Meet your new bodyguard.”
That brought her up short. Her hand lowered; her mouth hung open a little. She turned her gaze to Bobby, and he shrugged.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Some country that needs butt-kicking, a terrorist who needs killing?”
“Always. But someone else
can have the fun this week. I’m on leave.”
“You promised me you’d go home and see your family.”
“Once you were safe. You aren’t safe.”
The senator was watching them too closely. Bobby scowled. He didn’t want to have this conversation in front of her. He didn’t trust the woman.
“I’ll get my things and move into the other room.”
“Uh-huh.” The senator rolled her eyes. “The other room.”
“Mother,” Jane warned. “Put a sock in it.”
“I think I have the right to know if the bodyguard plans to continue boffing my daughter.”
Bobby plucked his T-shirt off the lamp, shoved his head and his arms through the openings, then settled the dark material over his bare chest.
He could lie to her. But why?
Scooping up his socks and his boots, Bobby met Jane’s eyes as he answered her mother, “Yes, ma’am, I do.”
He strolled out of the bedroom and into the elevator, Colonel Delray at his side. He felt Delray’s censuring glare.
But all he saw was Jane’s smile.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO THE woman who didn’t want a man?”
“I never said I didn’t want a man,” Jane pointed out.
“Oh, that’s right. You wanted a child and not a husband. Does the captain know?”
“Why should he? We aren’t planning on a lifetime commitment.”
“You’re planning on getting pregnant and sending him on his way?”
“No!”
The absent birth control loomed large in her conscience. But if she hadn’t told Bobby about it she certainly didn’t plan on telling her mother.
“I have to say, Jane, that getting pregnant by the bodyguard, even if he is Delta Force, would not be helpful.”
“Helpful?”
“To my career.”
Jane stared at Raeanne. “Mother?”
“Yes?”
“Bite me.”
Instead of being insulted and flouncing out of the hotel room, never to return—why should she behave in any way that Jane would expect?—Raeanne merely tapped her pink lips with a matching pink nail. “The Patriot Ball.”
“What?”
“The ‘welcome back to Washington after a summer of goofing off’ ball.”
“You never leave Washington,” Jane pointed out.
“I won’t get ahead if I don’t work harder and longer than everyone else.”
“Yet some people would consider being a senator ahead enough.”
“Not me.” Raeanne peered at Jane’s face. “The ball’s in three days. We’ll be able to cover up those bruises by then.”
“I am not going to some stupid dance. Have you missed the memo? Someone’s trying to kill me. Or maybe kidnap me. I’m still not quite clear on that.”
“The security at the Patriot Ball is obscene. Everyone who’s anyone will be there.”
“Except for me.”
“You’ll be there.”
“No.”
“I’ll donate a hundred thousand dollars to that shit hole you call a village.”
Jane froze, mid denial. “A quarter of a million to the Doctors of Mercy,” she countered.
Her mother narrowed her eyes, considered, then gave a sharp nod and held out her hand. Jane hesitated. Why did she feel as if she were making a deal with the devil?
Probably because she was. But for a quarter of a million dollars, she’d not only make the deal but stick to it. Jane put her palm against Raeanne’s and gave it a shake.
“Excellent. Now, you’ll need a dress.”
She stood back, looked Jane over from head to foot and frowned.
Here it comes, Jane thought.
“Have you put on weight?”
“Not since the last time you asked.”
“I don’t know how we’ll find a suitable ball gown at the Big and Tall shop.”
“I do not need to shop at Big and Tall. I’m a size fourteen.”
Raeanne winced.
“Just because you’re a size two doesn’t mean fourteen would fit a Holstein. I’m five foot eleven, and my weight is exactly right for my height.”
“You know those charts are too generous.”
“Those charts are sensible.”
Raeanne waved her hand. “Whatever, dear. I’ll have some gowns sent over in the larger sizes.”
Jane felt the headache begin at the base of her skull. She was gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. A common occurrence when she spent more than an hour in her mother’s company.
“I’ll call the herbalist, too,” Raeanne said.
“The what?”
“For your face. We need to fade those bruises.”
“Only time can do that.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Considering her mother was inordinately proud of Jane’s medical degree, it always astonished her how often Raeanne turned to alternative medicine. Still, Jane had to admit she’d seen some amazing natural cures during her years in various jungles.
“Fine. Great.”
“Then a facial, manicure. Shoes!”
“Mother, for a quarter of a million dollars you can dress me up like Barbie and trot me across the stage like Lassie. But I don’t want to hear about it ahead of time.”
She could have saved her breath. Raeanne continued to regale her with all that had to be done until Jane’s eyes glazed over. Once again, it was Bobby to the rescue.
The elevator door swooshed open and there he was. With coffee.
“Hallelujah,” Jane muttered.
Bobby dropped a small knapsack near the door, then crossed the room, doing his best not to trip over Lucky the Prancing Dog. He set the tray on an end table. There were also croissants. She could love this man.
Jane blinked at the thought. She didn’t love Bobby. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. That was a sure-fire recipe for heartbreak. He wasn’t staying. But then neither was she.
“That was fast,” her mother said.
“I travel light.”
“Hmm.” Raeanne eyed his beat-up carryall with obvious disdain. “I need to get a move on if I’m going to make those calls before I have to be on the Hill. Expect the dresses, shoes, et cetera before noon. I’ll have the herbalist and the esthetician call before they come.”
Bobby opened his mouth and Jane shook her head. If Raeanne wanted to go, they needed to let her.
Amazingly Bobby kept his lips zipped. Either he was a mind reader, or he wanted her mother gone as much as she did.
He escorted Raeanne to the elevator as if he’d never stood in front of the woman wearing only boxers and the expression of a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck.
As soon as the doors slid closed, he turned. “What’s up?”
Jane sighed and quickly explained her mother’s lunacy. She finished with “Sorry. I know protecting me at a stupid dance is not what you had in mind.” She tilted her head. “Actually, what did you have in mind? I’m sure you have better things to do than this.”
“Than protecting your life?” His gaze drifted over her battered face, but he didn’t seem to notice the bruises. “Not today. Tomorrow or next week, either.”
Jane smiled. “You’re very sweet.”
“Sweet. An adjective not often used anywhere near me.”
“Nevertheless.” Jane poured him a cup of coffee, then filled her own. “Sweet is just what you are.”
He snorted.
“We don’t have to go to the ball. As my bodyguard—” She faltered over the word and he grinned. “Have you ever been a bodyguard before?”
“Not of so nice a body.”
“Right.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to schmooze me, Luchetti. I’m a sure thing.”
“I’m not schmoozing, Jane. You’ve got the most gorgeous body I’ve seen in years.”
He really seemed to believe that. Of course, he had been hiding in caves and hanging out with bearded men. Which explained a lot.
&
nbsp; This was an affair, nothing more or less, and she had to stop herself from slipping into some fantasy land where happily-ever-after was real.
“I have been a bodyguard before,” Bobby said. “Usually I protect leaders of small Third World countries who are then deposed or killed the instant we leave said country. They aren’t very soft, they don’t smell good, and they definitely don’t make me happy just to be with them.”
“What?” Jane asked, stunned.
How was that for smooth?
Bobby just smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “The ball won’t be a problem. Your mother’s right. The security there is astronomical. But why is she insisting you go?”
“She’s always asking me to attend those things. I always say no.”
“You don’t like to get dolled up and dance?”
“I’m not a doll and I do not dance.”
Bobby contemplated her over the rim of his cup. “Hit a nerve, huh?”
“I looked like a fool in those coming-out dresses.”
She shuddered at the memory of the laces and bows, the pastels, which had only made her appear larger and less feminine than she was.
“I’m not even going to discuss the heels. I was several inches taller than any boy in the room in my stocking feet.”
“Poor baby,” Bobby murmured. “That must have been tough. Did not one foolish boy ever ask you to dance?”
“I don’t know how,” she whispered.
“I thought all those fancy schools taught dancing.”
They had. Jane just never caught on.
“I know how,” Bobby said.
Jane lifted her gaze. “The waltz? Stuff like that?”
“My mother made us learn. Along with lifesaving, CPR and various other basics she thought we should know.”
“I like your mother.”
“You probably would.” He tilted his head. “You want me to teach you?”
“That’s okay.”
“Until the ball, seems like we’ve got nothing but time.”
He was right, and the thought of swaying to music while being held in his arms was too tempting to resist.
“Sure. Why not?”
Bobby stood, then headed to the entertainment center concealed in a cherry-wood bureau and fiddled with some buttons. Music from the forties slid out—something slow, smooth, sexy. Maybe Glenn Miller. Jane wasn’t sure.
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