“Agent Gilchrist is still tidying away the details, though I’ve done all I can. I actually rang to check in on Saria. How’s she doing?”
“Still quite jumpy. We’ll all trying to work on unwinding her which is not an easy task.” Tyler’s clomping footsteps echoed down the line then a door banged shut. “I’m taking the phone to Saria now. Luke took her downstairs to play cards in the hope of distracting her. Luke mentioned she’s worried about you too.”
“She shouldn’t be. I’m not in any danger.” When her fears had first arisen and she hadn’t been getting any sleep, he’d taken her to see a therapist. The woman had assured him everything would blow over once Saria became more settled. The therapist had instructed him to give Saria whatever comfort she needed, and if that meant remaining close to her at night when she suffered the most, then to do so in a non-threatening way. He’d delivered, or at least he’d tried without stepping over that frustrating bodyguard-client line.
“Ben, living together for a year, no matter the circumstances, brings people closer together. Whether there’s danger or not, she’s going to worry. You should’ve rung her and touched base by now. Girls need that,” Tyler advised.
“Living together, yes, but I kept a professional distance even when I slept beside her.”
“And therein lies your problem. You allowed Saria to become dependent on you, and far more than I’ve ever seen you allow with another client before.”
“Her physical and emotional welfare were my responsibility, and I did whatever it took to ease her fears. She’s more than a client. She’s a friend. Put her on. Let me speak to her.” He couldn’t have her suffering. His gut would be in turmoil and eat him up.
“Almost there. I was poolside, and she’s two flights down. Saria, the phone’s for you.”
“Is it Ben?” Saria’s voice rolled over him, soothing him. “Ben, is everything okay? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Saria. How are you feeling?”
“I’ll feel better if you keep talking. I need to hear your voice.”
“I’m outside the house now and have the last of your things in the boot of my car. What do you want me to do with them?”
“Just keep a hold of what’s there for me until I can grab it off you. Did you hear Tyler and Lydia are getting married? He asked her the day we set sail.” An edge of expectation laced her tone and he sensed her next question before she asked it. “Lydia said Tyler wanted you and Brigs to come for the wedding.”
At least he could allay that fear.
“We are.” He propped his butt on the hood of his car and stroked the shiny silver paintwork. “Brigs and I are flying out tonight. We’ll be there by dawn tomorrow.”
“Then you have to ring me, before you takeoff and again when you land. Sorry, stupid fears, but you have to.”
“It’s no problem.” He’d do whatever it took to ensure she remained at ease. “I’d have called before now if I’d known what you were going through. You want to talk about it?”
“I’m still not sleeping well at night. It’s difficult when you’re not beside me.”
“You’ve got your sister.”
“I miss you too.”
“You’re not permitted to miss your bodyguard.”
“I knew you’d say that.” She clicked her tongue as if telling him off. “Will your office run smoothly with you gone?”
“My office assistant is beyond organized.” His specialist team of bodyguards worked all over the country and Gladys ensured everything ticked along. He accepted jobs from government officials right through to local law enforcement. Long or short term. He never turned anything of value down.
“Saria, get back here now. Dylan’s cheating and I need your help.” The deep male voice rang in Ben’s ears.
“Is that Luke?” he asked, clenching his fist.
“Yes, and we’re playing poker. I’m finally getting a good grasp on the game.”
“How’s that?” He’d tried to teach her, but gotten nowhere.
“Well, I have to remove a piece of clothing every time I get an ace in the hand.”
“What?” He jolted upright. “Are you telling me you’re playing strip poker?” Damn Luke. He’d told Tyler’s brothers they had to watch out for her, not take advantage of her. “I’ll kill him.”
“Calm down. I get to put that clothing back on if I win that hand. Luke insists it’s to help me concentrate on the good card I just got dealt. It’s a little bit of reverse psychology, and it’s working. I’m incredibly focused on not ending up naked.”
“You have to watch Luke.” Luke was the youngest, and at twenty-three, a terrible flirt. His short nails bit into his palm. No one was permitted to see Saria naked, not even him. One morning he’d actually caught her coming out of her bathroom after she’d showered. She’d been wrapped in a fleecy white towel that barely covered her breasts and bottom. That image would be forever seared into his mind. He’d certainly struggled to turn around and walk back out again when all he’d wanted to do was strip her bare, toss her onto the bed and touch her as he’d always longed to. He groaned then forced his wayward thoughts back into the dark hole they needed to remain in. “No nakedness is permitted on board that ship. You hear me?”
“Is that an order, Hammers?” One sexy smooth tone, the words delivered in a way that had those thoughts slipping free again. Hell, he loved it when she called him Hammers.
“If you ever wish to play strip poker, then let me teach you.” Damn. He had to get himself under control. He’d taken an oath to protect her, which meant even from himself.
“Is that a promise?” Was she flirting back with him?
“No.”
“Spoilsport.” A soft sigh.
“Morning there, neighbor.” The elderly man from across the other side of the road waved as he strolled along the pavement.
“Morning,” he called back and turned away so he wouldn’t invoke further conversation. “Saria, I need to go. I’m attracting some attention when I shouldn’t be.”
“Where are you?”
“In the driveway, but wishing I was throttling Luke instead. You’re not to remove any more clothing, okay?” Two birds shrieked from the highest branch of the old oak tree gracing the front lawn as if adding their agreement.
“Funny, but sure, I’ll let Luke know he’ll have to tangle with you if I do. Don’t forget to call me tonight. I’ll be waiting.”
“I’ll call you when I get to the airport, about ten. Talk to you soon.” He hated hanging up, but he did before he gave in and stayed on the line with her. He’d have to find a way to insert some distance between them while at the island, but at the right time so they both managed to come out of this codependency they’d formed unscathed. He’d certainly never experienced these kinds of emotions with any other client he’d lived with, but then Saria was different. He’d known from the moment he’d met her that maintaining any emotional distance wouldn’t be easy. She loved with all her heart, and made his heart want far more than he could ever have.
The secret of his unfortunate birth had decreed his future. One of utter solitude.
Which meant Saria was out of bounds.
His disgusting father had so much to answer for.
* * * *
In bed, Saria tossed and turned, the white sheet covering her more like a stifling weight than a piece of thin cotton. The bedside clock ticked over to 6.00 AM. Ben should have called eight incessantly long hours ago, yet every time she picked up the sat phone and tried to get a dial tone, nothing happened. Last night the captain had said they’d moved out of satellite range. They needed to move back within it, or even better, arrive at the island, which had its own cell phone tower and connection to the mainland. She had to know if Ben had traveled safely.
She untangled her legs from the sheet, shoved her feet over the side of the queen-sized bed and palms on the windowsill, leaned her forehead against the wide sheet of darke
ned glass. Along the horizon, red blazed across the dawn sky and the ship slowed as the tropical island appeared like a hidden treasure within the expanse of blue. A long wharf jutted out, and at the top end of the walkway, a dark-skinned Polynesian man with springy black hair waved them in toward their berth.
The motor rumbled as the captain reversed into their slot, and the islander in his yellow shorts and polo with the resort’s logo emblazoned on it, snatched the end of a coiled mooring rope and tossed it to a crewmember waiting at the stern. The rope tightened and the ship knocked gently against the piling and settled.
Past the wharf, a clear white sand beach curved around the bay, and a mass of swaying palm and coconut trees gave glimpses through the foliage of the resort beyond.
Overhead, the whop-whop of chopper blades drummed a soulful tune. Ben’s flight was due in at dawn. Her heart pounded as the white and blue aircraft flew in and landed with a soft bump on the concrete helipad beside the wire-fenced tennis courts.
The blades whirred to a stop and two men jumped down then slung large brown army duffels over their shoulders. The first man jogged toward the wharf, his face hidden in shadow as he held a black cap in place. He hauled something from his pocket, jabbed at it then pressed it to his ear while the second man caught him up. The man who followed was impossible to misplace with his bronze Samoan skin and black curly hair cropped close to his head. Brigs. He wore long charcoal colored chinos and a black and white checked shirt, his favorite colors.
The sat phone trilled and she grabbed it off the bedside table. “That better be you, Ben Hammers.”
“I’m coming. About to board now.” He bounded from the wharf into the rear of the ship, his cap sailing free and smacking into Brigs’s chest as he jogged up the gangplank behind him. “Neither Brigs or I have been able to get through to you since we left Auckland. The satellite was down. Which floor are you on?”
“Ground floor, first door on your left when you hit the passage—”
Her door banged open and Ben strode in. He hung up, tossed his cell phone on the dresser and shut the door behind him. He was finally here. His windblown blond hair brushed his shoulders, the longer length always making her yearn to run her fingers through it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call. You haven’t been too worried, have you?”
“I’d like to say no.” She just wanted to haul him to her and hug him, not that he’d ever allow such a touch. Sleep deprived, she wobbled as she set the phone down.
“You knew I’d be here at dawn.” He shoved a hand through his hair, tossing those gorgeous locks around.
“That didn’t stop me from worrying.”
“Did you sleep at all?” He dropped his bag on the white leather couch along the wall, edged around the bed then brushed in behind her. “I don’t like those dark circles under your eyes. Lean back against me.”
“Are you sure? That would require us touching.”
“That’s an order, Miss Sands. Lean back.”
“Thank you.” She slowly relaxed against him. His solid presence, an instant balm to her senses, soothed her as nothing else could. She tipped her head back until it rested on his shoulder, and every tortuous second of the past few days she’d been without him slowly dissolved.
“Is that better?” He stroked her hip and she jumped at the touch then quickly jammed her hand over his.
“Yes, although I really must look like a mess for you to allow this kind of touch.”
“I’m not your bodyguard anymore, and those strict rules are gone. A little touch is allowed. Now, get into bed. You clearly need some sleep.”
“But you just got here.” She didn’t care to move, not when she’d lose this precious moment. She twined her fingers through his, and more of his warmth settled over her.
“I’ll stay for a bit.” He leaned forward, bending her at the waist as he lifted her tangled sheet. “Please. I don’t like seeing you this exhausted. You’re supposed to be on vacation.” Soft words, a whisper in her ear.
“That’s what Lydia said.” She crawled in and patted the space beside her. “Hop in. There’s loads of room for two.”
He pursed his lips then nodded. “I guess one more night in your bed won’t hurt.” He shut the pale blue blinds, toed off his black boots and tucked them beside the built-in caramel-painted drawers. As he unbuckled his belt, his gaze moved around the room. “That’s a nice fish tank. I wouldn’t have thought to bring the marine life inside.”
“Tyler’s mother decorated this yacht before she passed. I love it.” The cylinder tank, standing floor to ceiling in the corner, held an envious number of exotic fish. They darted in and around the pretty, underwater stone castle, rocks, and swishing reeds. Oxygen bubbles floated to the surface and popped along the top.
“Mrs. Whitehall was an amazing woman. So was Gabriella.” He slid open his black shirt’s top two opal buttons, hauled the snug cotton over his head and draped the shirt on top of the dresser.
His broad shoulders and heavily muscled chest had her mouth watering and fingertips tingling. She wanted to trace each ridged ab and defined pec and not stop.
“I’ve forgotten how hot the tropics are, and the day’s barely begun.” He slumped onto the bed in his black jeans.
“Take your pants off then.” Yeah, a needy request, but she didn’t care. “I promise not to pounce if I see more skin than usual.”
“I wouldn’t let you pounce anyway.” A twinkle lit his beautiful sky-blue eyes.
“And I’m curious to learn if you wear boxers or briefs.” She rolled onto her side, wrinkling her buttery colored sleep-shorts higher. With one elbow wedged up, she propped her head into her upturned palm. “Indulge me, Hammers.”
“Indulging would be dangerous. But it is hot.”
“Take them off. I know you could easily hold off little-old-me.”
“Sure, but close your eyes.”
“Not a chance.”
He chuckled, released the button on his jeans and slid his zipper down.
She held her breath.
He shoved the denim down his powerful thighs and kicked his jeans away. Smooth black silk boxers, sitting incredibly low on his hips, gave a tease of blond hair narrowing down his rigid belly and disappearing within. Her breath whooshed out and he eyed her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, all we need now are some cards and I’ll be set for an actual game of strip poker. I’m certain you’d lose.”
“Or maybe you would.” He fixed the thin strap of her singlet top that had slid off her shoulder. “What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m wondering how quickly you could disarm me if I attempted to make a move.”
“Less than a second.” He draped the bed sheet over his lower body, and she lost half her glorious sight. “Which means you’re not permitted to. I don’t want to hurt you, and I am trained to immobilize any threat.”
“And you consider me a threat?”
“Of the greatest sort. I don’t do relationships, Saria. I’ve told you that before.”
Yes, he’d told her that the night he’d started sleeping in her bed. He’d made his position more than clear, that their new arrangement was necessary because of what her therapist had said. “I’ve never asked for a relationship, and being stuck in The Program made that impossible. Some fun though would be nice.” Slowly, she stretched her fingers and hovered her hand over his chest. She waited for him to halt her, but the seconds ticked by. “You’re not stopping me.”
“You haven’t done anything yet.”
“I said I’m after some fun.” She pressed down and with lightning speed, he trapped her fingers against his warm skin. His heart beat soundly under her palm.
“Fun isn’t permitted between us.” He rolled toward her, his brows slashing down. “Clients have the potential to form an attachment to their bodyguard, and at times bodyguards can become as dependent, needing to keep an overly watchful eye and all.”
“
I might be dependent on you, but I like it.”
“We’ll muddle through and find a way to break our codependency.”
“Muddling is good, breaking is not.” She leaned in, rubbed her nose against his. “You should know I’ve fantasized about kissing you.”
“Breaking our bonds means no kissing.”
“I’ve also fantasized about you kissing me.”
“You’re not being very helpful, Saria. You promised not to pounce, which you are.”
“And you said you wouldn’t let me. I also noticed your last answer wasn’t a direct no.”
“Taking my pants off gave you the wrong idea.” He pressed forward with his body and steered her back onto her side before rolling back to his. “I want you to sleep. You need the rest and so do I. Tomorrow I’ll get my own room and we’ll begin on inserting some space. A little at a time so our codependency has a chance of retracting.”
“Sleep and retracting are technical terms that just went right over my head. Sorry, but you’re out of luck.” She wriggled one leg over his. “I want to feel your mouth on mine, to see how deep this connection between us goes.”
“There’s no connection.” He stroked her upper leg. Sure there wasn’t.
“Kiss me, or else I’ll kiss you.”
“Did you just dare me?”
“I did. What are you going to do about it, Hammers?”
“Show you I’m right.” He kissed her then jerked away. “See.”
“I saw nothing.” She touched her lips to his, whisper soft. “I haven’t told you this before, but I have two fears, losing you and Lydia. I trust you, like I trust no other. Having some fun won’t hurt. I’m not asking for a relationship.”
“I have issues.”
Which had to be about his family. He never spoke of them, but she’d once probed Brigs who’d been with Ben since their army days, and he’d told her Ben had grown up moving from one foster home to another.
“There are bad genes in my stock, and I have no intention of spreading any of it.” He dipped his head to her neck and nuzzled her ear. “I missed your scent, like vanilla and strawberries. Maybe you can loan me one of your candles.”
Bodyguard Pursuit Page 2