Single Mom's Bodyguard

by Lisa Childs

  “If that’s what happened,” Cole said, “then Dane isn’t the only one in danger. Every one of us is in danger.”

  “And not just us,” Lars said, “but the people we care about are in danger, too.”

  Like Nikki and Lars’s sister...

  Once again Manny was glad that he had no one in his life. He had no one to lose.

  But his friends...

  Where was Dane? Was he safe?

  Chapter 12

  Where was Dane?

  Was he safe?

  He had been gone so long that Emilia was filled with fear. She shouldn’t have sent him after the man with the knife. But Dane had a gun. He could take care of himself. Better than she could take care of herself. She glanced down at the bandage she’d wound around her wrist before she’d hurried upstairs to Blue. The blood that had seeped through the white gauze had turned dark and dried. Her wound had stopped bleeding.

  She was lucky that the knife hadn’t hit an artery.

  She’d thought she could defend herself with the weapon, but it had nearly taken her life. She’d been crazy to try to confront her intruder.

  But she’d also been angry. Instead of the crying driving her crazy as her assailant must have intended, it had driven her to anger. She had wanted to hurt him, like he’d been hurting her.

  Instead she’d nearly lost her life. She only had to glance down at the bloodied bandage to remember what had happened. If the man had plunged the knife into her heart, she would have been dead for certain.

  Why had he chosen to slash her wrist instead?

  Had he wanted it to look like suicide, like she’d done that to herself?

  Her heart rate slowed with dread as she realized that might have been exactly how he’d wanted it to look: self-inflicted. She had been acting erratically. The crying had robbed her of sleep, leaving her shaky and distraught. And the calls canceling those wedding services made her look incompetent.

  Someone had been setting her up for suicide. She shivered as she considered it. Hopefully Dane had found him and could prove that she had been attacked. She hadn’t injured herself. She wouldn’t.

  She had too much to live for. She had her son. And he was everything.

  The knob turned then rattled. She stepped between the crib and door. She had to protect Blue. She wouldn’t stop unless the man plunged the knife in her heart this time.

  “Emilia...” a deep voice murmured. “It’s me...”

  “Dane!”

  He was back.

  She rushed toward the door, unlocked and opened it to his handsome face. A bruise had swelled on his jaw—from Lars’s fist—and on his temple from the attack by the thugs. She saw no new injuries. “Are you all right?”

  He nodded and reached out, turning her wrist over so that he could see where the blood had seeped through. “It looks like it stopped bleeding.”

  “I told you it was a shallow wound.” Because she’d fought. And because Dane had arrived when he had. If he hadn’t come to her...

  She shuddered as she considered what might have happened. “Did you find him?” she asked.

  He didn’t look at her. Instead he studied that wound.

  Her heart lurched as she realized what he was thinking. What someone had probably wanted him to think.

  “You didn’t find him,” she mused.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t see anyone.”

  “Did you find the knife?” she asked.

  He shook his head again.

  “You believe me,” she said. He had believed her before, even when she’d doubted herself. He was the one who’d suggested that her keys had been copied and that the crying she’d heard was a recording.

  She knew that was true now. She’d seen that knob turn after her door had been unlocked. She’d seen the intruder in her home, had heard the crying playing from his pocket.

  But Dane hadn’t been here. He hadn’t seen what she had.

  “Don’t you believe me?” she asked. “You don’t think I would try to do this to myself?”

  He blew out a breath he must have been holding and shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Emilia.”

  “The window—he broke the window,” she said. “And he took the knife when he left.”

  “You could have cut yourself on the glass,” he said, suggesting another alternative to the truth.

  He didn’t believe her.

  Tears began to pool in her eyes. And she shook her head. “No...” Frustration burned inside her.

  Dane had believed her—until now. That was almost as hard to handle as when she’d doubted herself. But before she could give in to the tears that threatened, Blue began to cry.

  Blue’s wail sounded like the scream she’d let out when the intruder had attacked her. Her son must have felt her frustration and anxiety.

  He was the only one who sensed her helplessness now.

  She couldn’t count on Dane to trust her. In fact he might help her intruder. He might help to prove her incompetent. And then she would lose her son.

  Again.

  * * *

  After assuring himself she was all right in the room with Blue, Dane had come back down to investigate the crime scene. The sight of her blood spilled across the stark white bathroom tiles had his stomach lurching.

  If he’d stayed away like he’d been considering...

  Or if he’d come just a little later...

  He might have found her in worse shape than he had.

  Sure, she could have cut herself on that glass. But he’d seen the wound. It had been clean and shallow. That wouldn’t have been the case had she gauged herself on the broken glass. And if she had smashed the window from the inside, why would so much glass have been scattered across the bathroom tiles rather than outside the window?

  Some of those shards had black fibers stuck to the edges—like someone wearing gloves had broken the window.

  He shouldn’t have doubted her. But maybe that had been the vestiges of his head injury. His mind was clearer now, though. As he stepped inside the room and saw her holding her son, everything became crystal clear.

  She was beautiful but never more so than when she looked at her son. Her face radiated joy and love. No. She would never risk losing him again.

  “I believe you,” he said.

  Startled, she jumped a little. She must not have heard him enter the room. Her lips parted on a soft gasp, and she murmured, “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  Her breath shuddered out now on a ragged sigh of relief. “I was so afraid...”

  Anger surged through him. He couldn’t imagine how frightened she’d been—with the person breaking in and then trying to slit her wrist. Rage surged through him as he realized the terror she’d endured.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he said.

  “I thought you’d changed your mind about moving in here,” she said.

  He couldn’t deny that he had considered it.

  And she must have realized that because she said, “I don’t blame you. Those men must have attacked you because of me.”

  He wasn’t so sure about that. He had made some enemies of his own, who could have just found him.

  “And Lars is so angry with you...”

  Her brother would be even angrier if Dane didn’t tell him what was going on with his sister. But if he told him, would Lars believe her?

  He’d already suggested she was suffering from PTSD. So many soldiers had come back from war only to tragically kill themselves at home. So Lars might not come to the same conclusions that Dane had.

  “Should we call the police?” she asked.

  “On your brother?” The smart-ass comment slipped out, but he was glad that it
had when her lips curved a little.

  “Did you mention him to the officer you talked to earlier?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Officer Kelly had already determined the attack was gang-related.” And it might have been. But Dane wasn’t so sure about that or about anyone tracking him down for revenge over those old missions.

  He’d messed up the intruder’s plan tonight. It stood to reason the guy wanted him out of the way.

  She pressed a kiss to her son’s forehead before laying the sleeping baby back down in the crib. It was late. No wonder the baby was tired. His sleep had already been interrupted twice.

  She looked tired, too, with those dark circles beneath her pale eyes. Dane wasn’t tired, though. He was too wired now—from the fight earlier. And from looking at her.

  “Why didn’t you call the police earlier?” he asked. Or him? She hadn’t called him, either. He’d checked his phone.

  “There was no time,” she said. “I was just going for my cell when I heard the window break.”

  “So instead of grabbing a phone, you grabbed a knife from the block?” he deduced. Her purse had been lying open on the counter, next to the overturned knife block.

  She nodded. But instead of looking proud, she looked embarrassed, her pale skin flushing with color. “That was stupid. He took it from me so easily.”

  “It was brave,” he commended her. Emilia was far tougher than anyone—even she—knew she was.

  “It was stupid,” she insisted. “And you must think calling the cops would be stupid, too, or you would have done it already.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t...”

  “You don’t think anyone else would believe me,” she said. And from the dejected look on her beautiful face and the way her shoulders slumped, neither did she.

  “It might be exactly what he wants.” A report on file for something that could look like a suicide attempt.

  “For me to look as crazy as he’s trying to drive me,” Emilia finished for him. “What are we going to do? How are we going to stop him?”

  * * *

  Nobody was going to stop them. They had come too far to give up now. Not when they were so close.

  He turned toward his partner and said, “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  His partner said nothing, wouldn’t even look at him.

  So he admitted, “I know that it looks bad, though.”

  How much had Dane Sutton figured out? Anything? Or maybe tonight would give him doubts.

  “It looks bad for Emilia Ecklund,” he insisted. “The wound on her wrist looks self-inflicted. If they call the police, they’ll think she did it to herself.”

  But then he glanced down at the knife he held. He’d forgotten to drop it. Would the police believe she’d hidden it? Or used another weapon?

  “Damn Dane Sutton.”

  If he hadn’t showed up when he had...

  He’d ruined everything.

  When that door had flown open, he’d barely had time to escape before Dane had seen him. Taking the knife hadn’t just been an instinctive reaction. It had been self-preservation in case Dane chased him.

  But he’d had time to escape.

  Barely.

  Grasping the knife even tighter, he plunged it into the cantaloupe sitting atop the granite counter. Emilia’s blood oozed onto the pale orange flesh of the melon. He wished it was Dane Sutton’s heart instead.

  The man kept ruining the plan.

  “It’s fine,” he assured his partner. “An officer might think she hid it to conceal what she’d done.” It would be a good thing if they called the cops.

  He glanced at his partner and realized the original plan had been taking too long. Way too long.

  “It’s time to end this,” he said. Before they got caught...

  It was time to finish Emilia Ecklund once and for all. Driving her crazy hadn’t worked. But that wasn’t the only way to get rid of her.

  Chapter 13

  Dane had left again, without answering Emilia’s question about what they were going to do. Where had he gone?

  They had agreed they couldn’t call the police. As she pulled Blue’s door closed and stepped into the hall, she glanced down at her wrist. It wouldn’t look good for her. It would look like she’d tried to hurt herself. Even her brother might think that. Only Dane believed her. Or did he?

  He was gone.

  Then she heard footsteps on the stairs. Before she could reach for Blue’s door again to lock them both safely inside, a voice called out, “It’s me.”

  And her breath shuddered out in relief. “You came back.”

  “I didn’t leave,” he said as he stepped onto the second floor, a box cradled in his hands. “I just went to get my stuff from the back of the truck.”

  “You’re still moving in?”

  “That’s the plan,” he said. “We’re going to follow that. It’s how we’re going to stop him.”

  She had her answer now.

  “It’ll stop him from trying to get in again,” she said. “But then we might never figure out who he is.”

  “You didn’t recognize him?”

  “He had a hood pulled tight around his face. But it wasn’t his face,” she replied with a shudder at the horror of that grotesque Halloween mask. “It was a zombie mask. I couldn’t tell the color of his hair or even his eyes.”

  “But you know it was a guy?”

  She nodded. “He was strong.” Stronger even than Nikki, who was physically the strongest woman Emilia knew. “And he was big.”

  “How big?”

  “Big,” she said, and her voice cracked as that fear coursed through her. If Dane hadn’t arrived when he had...

  He looked intense now. Angry even. Setting his box on the floor, he stepped closer and reached for her wrist again. He stroked his fingertip over the swollen flesh around the bandage. “You’re going to have bruises.”

  “Good,” she said with a surge of relief.

  “What?”

  “Then everyone will know I didn’t do that to myself.” But she suddenly cared less what everyone else thought and cared only about Dane. He hadn’t seen that swollen skin before he’d believed her.

  He’d trusted her.

  So maybe she wasn’t crazy for trusting him. She tugged her wrist from his grasp and lifted her arms to slide them around his neck. Then she pressed her body against his in a hug.

  “Thank you,” she said. She’d meant the embrace to express her gratitude. But other sensations raced through her, as her skin tingled and heated. She looked up and found him staring at her.

  His caramel eyes had turned dark like rich chocolate. And there was a heat in them she’d never seen before.

  He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers. And she felt the passion in him. He kissed her deeply, sliding his tongue into her mouth, playing with hers.

  Then he lifted her, as easily as she lifted Blue, and carried her down the hall toward her bedroom. She wasn’t surprised he knew where it was. As a bodyguard, he probably needed to know the complete layout of every place where he intended to protect someone.

  Without even flipping on the light, he found her bed and laid her on it as gently as she put Blue to bed. Then he stepped back from it.

  She could hear his breathing, could see it in the rapid rise and fall of his heavily muscled chest. “Dane...”

  “I—I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said, his voice gruff.

  So he’d just carried her to her bed to put her in it—alone?

  She didn’t want to be alone for so many reasons. But most of all, she wanted Dane. She reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him toward the bed—toward her. “The couch is too far away,” she protested. “How is that protecting me?�
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  “That’s how I’m protecting you,” he said, “by walking away. And it’s taking everything in me.”

  He wanted her, too.

  “Then stay,” she implored him. “Stay with me.”

  “Neither of us will get any sleep if I do,” he said.

  Curling her fingers into his shirt, she tugged him closer. “I’m not tired.”

  His teeth flashed in the darkness as he grinned. “Liar.”

  “Well, I don’t want to sleep.” After everything that had happened, she wouldn’t be able to if she tried. She was afraid even to close her eyes because she would see that hooded man in the mask again. She would see the blade of the knife gleaming as it slashed across her wrist. She shivered.

  And Dane groaned. He settled onto the bed next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I know...” he murmured. “I understand. You’re worried about having nightmares.”

  Her breath escaped in a gasp as she realized he worried about them, too. Probably because of everything he’d seen—everything he had endured. Even tonight, that must have been terrifying for him, having all those guys jump him and being unable to see any of them.

  “Of course you would understand,” she said. “You must have them, too.”

  His shoulder shifted against her as he shrugged. “Not that I remember.”

  That was good. When she had the nightmares, even after she jerked awake, she felt like she was still in them. But that was because of the crying. That wasn’t real.

  This probably wasn’t real, either. But she needed it—she needed Dane. She turned toward him and ran her fingers down his chest, which continued to rise and fall with harsh breaths. “How are your ribs?”

  He shrugged again.

  “And your head?”

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  He didn’t sound fine. So she reached up and pressed a kiss to Dane’s temple.

  “Emilia...” He said her name on a groan. And his arm tightened around her shoulders. Then he turned toward her, and his mouth found hers.

  He kissed her again—deeply—like he had before. His tongue slid between her lips.

  She kissed him back as she curled her fingers in his shirt again, tugging it up. She wanted it off him. She wanted nothing between them but skin.