Bodyguards Boxed Set

by Julianne MacLean

  Tonight he was pushing her to the limit. She was exhausted from not sleeping well, worried about the stalker, and felt vulnerable and alone. The new knowledge about her mother tormented her, as did the memory of Cord’s kiss and caresses in her bed that night--how he’d responded to her and how he’d rejected her. But it was the dawning awareness that she was in love with him, not Preston, that dug deepest into her soul. Regardless of what happened between her and Cord, she’d have to end her engagement.

  “Come on, Stacey. You’re not concentrating.” Cord’s annoyed tone grated on her.

  “I am too.”

  “Oh, sure, I could have raped or killed you three times already.”

  She glared at him. “Right about now, I don’t really care.”

  Like lightning, just as quick and deadly, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed tightly. “Don’t ever say anything like that again.”

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she’d be damned if she’d cry in front of him again. She just nodded.

  “Now, be assertive,” he barked out.

  All right, McKay. You want assertive. I’ll give you assertive.

  “Let’s try it again. I’m coming up from behind. I get you in a bear hug. What’s the first thing you do?”

  Stacey swung her hips out of the way and brought her fist back. He’d said to go for the testicles. She went for them mercilessly.

  He was quick, she’d give him that. Darting out of the way just in time, he cursed fluently.

  “Well, you said to go for it. Of course, I wouldn’t want to ruin you for Eileen.”

  “Shut Up.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said shut up, or you’ll be sorry where your smart mouth gets you.”

  “I’m never sorry for what I sa—”

  A quick twist of his leg landed her flat on her back.

  Glowering up at him, she decided, This is war.

  Lithely she sprang to her feet. “Let’s try that again. And don’t let up on me.”

  “Don’t worry, babe, I have no intention of making this easy for you.”

  Another grab from behind. Another swivel of her hips. He parried her groin attack, so Stacey quickly whipped her foot around his leg. His arms flew out to balance himself and she took advantage of the exposure of his chest to jab her elbow into his ribs. He doubled over and fell to the floor.

  “Is that assertive enough? Am I paying close enough attention?” She wiped the sweat out of her eyes and stuck her hands on her hips.

  He nodded, but before she could step back, he sneaked his hand around an ankle, toppling her down next to him.

  “Major lesson in self-defense, Stacey. Never get cocky about your victories.”

  “Go to hell, McKay.”

  She tried to rise but Cord rolled over, pinning her beneath him. Her chest heaved as she bucked futilely.

  “What are you so angry about?” he asked. “Is it because I didn’t make love to you four days ago?”

  No, this is because I’ve fallen in love with you, you jerk . Had her hands been free, she would have slugged him. He was so dense. “All right, I admit. I wanted to make love with you,” she said. “I may be many things, but I don’t lie to myself. Unlike you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You wanted to just as much as I did.” She lifted her chin. “I could tell.” She arched her hips against his. “Just like I can tell now.”

  Easing back up on his elbows, he started to pull away. “That’s it, McKay,” she said. “Run away. That’s your M.O., isn’t it—flee from the conflict. You’ve spent your whole life avoiding involvement, running away. Why? What happened to you in the past?”

  His face went ashen. More sweat beaded on his upper lip. “I gave you my reasons. Besides, you’re engaged.”

  Not for long. What would he do when he no longer had that safety net?

  The thought made her lips curl. He frowned, as if he’d read her mind.

  “Let me up, would you, caveman? You’ve proved your superior strength, and your superior willpower.”

  For now.

  * * *

  ROLLING OVER ON his narrow twin bed, the man slid his arms underneath his head, and stared up at the ceiling. The stains on the plaster of his rented room reminded him of the seedy house on Erie Avenue where he’d grown up. He’d spent allota nights in a bed just like this, listening to the muffled screams of his mother, and then later, after she’d left, to those of his father’s “friends.” Goddamned whores were all alike. Women made you beat the hell out of them, then wanted you to hump them till they couldn’t even walk.

  The image reminded him of Stacey Webb. He laughed aloud. Her pals thought they were so clever, figuring out how to get to her even though he’d managed to break the fucking elevator and block the ground floor door. But he’d planned it that way. He wanted McKay to rescue her. And he wanted to be there when it happened, to see how scared she was, to watch those lips tremble with fear. Of him. He’d had to go out of his way to accomplish that one. If the secretary in the repair shop hadn’t been such a hottie, he never would’ve been able to pull it off. Yeah, his father had been right—all cats are gray in the dark.

  He wondered if Stacey Webb would be any different—feel any different when he rammed himself inside her. The thought made him hard.

  He sprung out of bed and walked over to the poster on the wall. He’d had the photo of her enlarged as big as he could get it, then carefully cut out the other half of the picture. She was alone on his wall, all by herself in the shiny blue dress that clung to her ass like a man’s hand.

  Reaching into his boot, he yanked out the knife. Methodically he dragged the blade across her face. Then, beginning at her throat, he carved up the photograph.

  CHAPTER NINE

  * * *

  “HI, LOVE. I’M so glad you called.” Preston lounged in the doorway of his chic condominium in Pillar’s Post, one of the many small villages surrounding Canfield. He peered over her shoulder to the parking lot. “Well, look at that. If it isn’t Clint Eastwood, Kevin Costner and Bruce Willis all rolled into one.”

  Frowning, Stacey nodded. “I asked him to stay in the truck. I wanted some privacy.”

  Preston’s eyes locked with hers. His leer made her shiver. And not from desire. “Smart girl. Come in.”

  Stacey stepped over the threshold and moved past him; he closed the door and grasped her shoulders before she could turn around. One hand slid to span her waist and the other angled toward her breast. She squirmed away, unable to bear his touch after...

  “Preston, we have to talk.”

  He stiffened. “I want to touch first. I’ve been out of town for a whole week. I’ve missed you. I need what little you’ll give me tonight, Stacey.”

  A hammer of guilt pounded inside her. It jarred her conscience, spurring the inevitable comparison to Helene. She pivoted to face him. “There won’t be any more touching, Preston.”

  “What is it now? More limitations? I have to tell you, I’m getting really sick of this.” He strode to the black lacquer cabinet in the center of the huge, cathedral-ceilinged great room and poured himself a drink. Scotch in hand, he sat down on the white leather sofa. “All right. Hit me with this one.”

  He was making it easy. In answer, Stacey slipped off his ring, crossed the room and stretched out her hand. “I can’t keep this, Preston. I’m breaking our engagement.”

  His classic jaw gaped. “What?”

  “I can’t marry you.”

  “I never expected this.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Robotically he reached out and took the ring. He fingered it for a minute then looked up at her. “Stacey, you’ve been under a lot of pressure these last few months. This isn’t a good time to make such a big decision.”

  Jamming her hands into the pockets of her oversize red silk shirt, she sighed. “It’s not because of the stalking. Or maybe it is, indirectly. In any case, I’ve come to realize how different we a
re, how we don’t even like the same things. I can’t commit myself to a lifetime of living up to your expectations.”

  “You’ve never had a problem with my expectations before.”

  “I know. But I’ve changed.” Unwillingly, she looked toward the door. “Things don’t seem the way they used to anymore. I have a different perspective on life now.”

  Preston was too smart to miss a subtlety. Ironically, it was one of the things she’d truly liked about him. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with McKay, would it?”

  In spite of her attempt to stifle the response, Stacey felt herself blush. “I don’t want to talk about Cord. I just want to be fair to you.”

  Preston slammed his drink down on the table. Glass meeting glass echoed like a gunshot. Then he bolted off the couch. “Fair? Fair? You’ve got to be kidding. You haven’t been fair to me since the first time you refused to go to bed with me. Damn it, Stacey. I haven’t touched another woman in months, even though you’ve played the ice princess.”

  In months . They’d been seriously dating for over a year. The knowledge made her mission a little easier.

  He paced. “I can’t believe you’d dump me for a washed-up cop who never even made it to college.”

  If Stacey ever doubted her resolve, this strengthened it in a heartbeat. “I won’t listen to more insults about my bodyguard.”

  Eyes narrowed, Preston asked, “And how close to his body have you gotten? Has he been sampling what’s mine all these weeks?”

  “I’m leaving. Goodbye, Preston. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

  Insolent shoulders shrugged. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll be just fine.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just surprised you’re letting go of such a good catch.”

  Without responding, Stacey turned and headed for the door. She didn’t look back as she exited and hurried to the truck where Cord waited for her. Though she was certain that breaking up with Preston was the right thing to do, she was shaking from the unpleasant scene when she slid into the passenger seat

  Cord asked, “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  She gave him a sideways glance.

  “All right, all right, I know we agreed to no personal stuff between us.”

  “Actually, I’d like to talk to Lauren, Would you take me to her house?”

  For a split second, he turned wounded eyes on her; then the look was gone. “Sure. You made it clear that since Daddy’s paying the bill, my time is yours.”

  “Can it, McKay. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They drove to Lauren’s in silence. She lived in a small Cape Cod on the south side of Canfield—a house her parents had left her. Grateful to see lights on inside, Stacey yanked open the truck door. Cord did the same on his side.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice razor-sharp.

  “It’s dark here, and not as close to the street as Matthews’s place. I’m escorting you to the door.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “Don’t bother. You can freeze me out all you want, but as long as I’m on the case, I make the safety decisions.”

  Turning her back without answering, Stacey bit her lip to keep from snapping at him. They climbed the lower flight of steps, then the upper one.

  Stacey pressed the doorbell, then they waited. She rang it again, then again. Glancing at the street, she said, “Her car is here. Do you think she went out with someone?”

  “Yeah, maybe Prince Charming.” Cord shared her dislike of Mark Dunn.

  Stacey banged on the door. “Lauren, it’s me, Stacey.”

  Just when she was about to give up, the front door creaked. Through its slit, Stacey saw the Japanese-print kimono she’d given Lauren for her birthday. It was dark in the entryway. “Lauren, it’s me.”

  In a hoarse voice, Lauren said, “I know. Go away, Stacey. I’m busy.”

  Unobtrusively, Cord eased the door open with his foot. He peered inside, having a better angle than Stacey. He said, “Lauren, how about letting us come in?”

  Stacey’s head snapped to Cord. His tone was so gentle, so soothing, it alerted her instantly.

  “Lauren?” he continued in the same coaxing voice, “let us in. I can help.”

  Her friend choked back a sob. “Nobody can help,” she said, leaning her head on the door. “Just go away. Please, Stacey, just go.” It was then that Stacey got a glimpse of the red welt on her friend’s shoulder where the robe had pulled away.

  Cord inched closer to the door. “Is he still here, Lauren?”

  “No.” And they hadn’t seen his car.

  “All right. Will you call us if you need us?”

  “Yes.”

  With a look of painful resignation, Lauren closed and locked the door. Raising both fists, Stacey pounded for almost a minute, then stopped and slumped against the wood.

  Cord touched her arm. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “I can’t just leave her here.”

  “I gather this has been going on for some time. Haven’t you already tried to talk to her about it?”

  “Of course I have.”

  “And?”

  “It hasn’t helped.”

  “You can’t force abused women to change, Stace.”

  “I know.” Tears leaked from her eyes as she descended the steps, leaving her childhood friend to deal with her personal demons, in her own private hell.

  * * *

  CORD TRIED NOT to think about Lauren Sellers on the drive back to the Webbs’ house. He understood the battered woman’s syndrome, but the knowledge didn’t stop the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of Lauren’s situation. To distract himself, he thought about Megan. God, he missed her. Talking to her three times a day wasn’t enough. To ease that pain he let his mind wander to what was going on between Stacey and Matthews.

  When she’d asked him to take her to the swank condominium tonight, then wait in the truck, taunting visions of her under Matthews’s hands nearly drove him wild. She’d returned too fast for any real damage to be done—except maybe a quickie. Of course, Stacey didn’t seem to be the type for a fast tumble. He’d bet she liked her sex long and slow. He knew just how he’d… damn it, McKay, you’re behaving like an adolescent boy. He willed his mind blank for the rest of the drive.

  When they got home, Stacey was silent as they walked into the deserted foyer, then to the den. Her father had business out of town for two days and was staying over in Atlanta for the weekend. Cord squelched the knowledge that he and Stacey were alone in the house for four full days. And three long nights.

  As soon as they reached the den, Stacey faced him squarely. “I want to talk to you.”

  Something about her tone set off his trouble detector.

  “I have some work to do. Let’s wait until tomorrow.” After I’ve marshaled my defenses a little more.

  “Not on your life, buddy.”

  Had she read his mind? Cowardice told him to run for his life. Something inexplicable and irresistible drew him to her.

  When he came fully into the room, she said bluntly, “Look.” She held up her left hand.

  He saw nothing. Nothing. Nothing!

  “Stacey? What have you done?”

  Her angled chin was all the confirmation he needed. “I’ve broken my engagement with Preston.”

  Elation fluttered wildly in his heart before he could quell it. “Why?” he croaked.

  “That’s a stupid question.” She came toward him, her hips swaying gracefully in the red silk walking shorts.

  “Answer it, anyway.”

  Her hands reached him first, glided up his chest, nestled in the hair visible under three open buttons of his sport shirt. His heart jump-started.

  “I couldn’t stay engaged to one man when I’m in love with another.”

 
; Cord was sure he was going into cardiac arrest when she spoke those precious words.

  But they’re words you have no right to hear, McKay.

  Damn! What was he thinking?

  He grasped her clever hands, which had wandered to his neck. Wanting with all his heart and battered soul to leave them where they were, to take what she so innocently offered to the man who had almost ruined her life, he pulled them from his thrumming body. Stepping back, he said, “Stacey, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re doing. Listen, you’ll make up with Matthews. It’s just the circumstances, the forced separation, probably the abstinence that’s causing this breach. Once you’ve resumed your normal relationship, things will be better.”

  Could her big brown eyes possibly get more innocent? “What do you mean?”

  Oh, God, she was going to make him spell it out. “You know what I mean. Your sexual relationship.” The phrase grated on his nerve endings like knuckles on a cheese shredder. “Men get testy when they’re...deprived...of what they normally have.” He pulled away completely and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “Damn it, Stacey. You can’t be this dense. Once you’ve resumed your normal sexual relationship, Matthews will settle down again.”

  He never expected the laughter. It bubbled up out of her, soft and amused and again innocent. “There’s nothing to wait for.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Now who’s being dense?”

  “Stacey, what are you saying?”

  “Preston and I have never made love, Cord. I’ve never been with a man. And right now, I’m very, very glad. You’ll be my first.”

  Absolute joy and undiluted terror hammerlocked his heart. “What?”

  Giving him a sultry laugh, she inched closer and began to unbutton her shirt. “I’m sure this is a surprise, but I thought the news would please you. Knowing no man has ever had me before. Knowing you’ll be the only one. Don’t you like that idea, Francis?”