* * *
Sapphira listened to Cindy Ward’s low whistle as she peered through the crack in the door into the reception area to get a look at Lucas Finn. “I guess it’s really tough to be you,” her best friend and partner at Belle Charities drawled with a sarcastic smile as she pulled away from the door. She sighed dramatically. “Having to spend every minute of every day chained to that single good-looking man out there.” Her face blanked. “Poor you.”
“Cindy, the fact that he’s good-looking and single doesn’t negate the fact that I’m still a prisoner and he’s the damned guard.”
Cindy snuck another peek at Huck. “Oh, and right now he’s playing with your Pussy.”
“Cindy!” Sapphira hissed over her scandalized chuckle, her face flaming. “Keep your voice down.” No doubt she’d rue the day she’d shared that little tidbit with her friend. Honestly, it had been all she could do to keep from howling with laughter--after her initial shock, of course--when he’d shared his nickname for her beloved pet. It was crude, crass and unseemly... which was probably why she’d found it so damned funny. Particularly coming out of that sinfully crafted mouth.
Regardless, she couldn’t allow him to refer to Trixie as “Pussy.” What sort of pet owner would she be if she permitted him to malign her dog that way?
“Would you get back over here and try to focus,” Sapphira told her. “I’m running out of time and have you haven’t finished updating me yet.”
Her friend had been too busy wanting the low-down on Huck to be bothered with the real reason they were sneaking around at the spa doing business under the guise of a pedicure rather than meeting in the inconspicuous offices of Belle Charities as they normally would. Ordinarily Sapphira logged in quite a few hours a week in the office, but given her constant surveillance over the past ten days she’d only been in once.
Considering her every move was being recorded for her father’s benefit, she couldn’t risk going any more than that and arousing his suspicions. Better to let him--and Huck, though it bothered her more than it should--think that she was more interested in making sure her handbag matched her shoes than whether or not a family had dinner tonight.
Careful not to mess up her toenail polish, Cindy duck-walked back to the chaise lounge. “Oh, all right,” she sighed, settling her petite frame onto the chair. “I suppose we’ve lusted about tall, dark and gorgeous out there long enough.”
Sapphira quirked a pointed brow at her friend and applied her hand sanitizer. “We?”
“You might not have been lusting for the past few minutes, but you’ve been lusting the rest of the time,” she said. Her brown eyes twinkled with knowing humor. “I can tell.”
That was the problem with having a best friend, Sapphira thought. She could always tell. Sapphira considered her options and decided that the truth would be more efficient. “If I had the time to argue with you about this, I would lie and say no, I don’t find him the least bit attractive. However, I don’t have time and you aren’t going to be satisfied until I confess, so--“ Sapphira released a pent up breath. “--yes, I do find him extraordinarily handsome.” Mild understatement. If he’d been the cherry on a sundae she would have already devoured him by now. She was hammeringly aware of every move he made--could literally feel him in her bones--and sweet Lord, she didn’t know what sort of cologne the man wore but it absolutely made her want to slither and slide all over him. She bit her lip. “My toes actually curled when he walked into my living room.”
Seemingly satisfied, a slow smile slid over Cindy’s mouth. “What are you going to do?”
“About what?”
“About him?”
She cleared her throat and tried to focus. “I’m going to take the same tact with him that I have with the other three. Wear him down with the empty-headed, vain, shallow heiress routine and hope that he finds out whose sending the letters before Carmen goes into labor.”
Cindy’s shrewd gaze caught hers and held. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
She did. Her cheeks puffed as she exhaled mightily. “It’s a non-issue, Cindy. He’s my bodyguard, for pity’s sake.” There had to be a conflict of interest in there somewhere, not to mention the fact that her father would have him drawn and quartered.
Furthermore, Sapphira didn’t like to date men who were unmanageable and Lucas Finn had hard to handle written on every beautifully muscled inch of his mouth-watering frame. He reminded her of a big bird, fast and predatory, keen and sinfully forbidding.
“No doubt he could guard the hell out of your body,” Cindy said, chuckling wickedly.
Unbidden an image of Huck’s big hands sliding down her bare back, that hot sexy mouth feeding at hers, materialized in her mind’s eye making the air vanish from her lungs. A pulse of heat throbbed between her legs and her palms tingled, aching for the feel his warm skin beneath her hands. How could she ache for something she’d never had? How could she burn when he hadn’t so much as touched her? Better still, how in the hell was she going to mask the attraction if she drooled at the mere sight of him?
Enough, Sapphira thought, forcing herself to focus. “Have you talked to Carmen?”
Cindy nodded. “This morning. She’s doing well. Ready to have the baby, but otherwise fine. Her next appointment is on Wednesday at two. She told me to tell you that she’d understand if you couldn’t make it.”
“Understanding won’t keep her from being disappointed,” Sapphira told her, letting go a sigh. “I’ll have to work something out.”
“You’ve already played the yearly-visit-to-the-gyno card for last week’s appointment. How are you going to swing it again so soon with Huck? Tell him you have some sort of VD?”
“Of course, not,” Sapphira said, shooting her friend a revolted glare. “I’ll tell him that one of my tests needs to be redone.” Pap smears were notorious for that sort of thing, not that he would have ever heard of one. But if he happened to press the matter--which she sincerely doubted--it sounded authentic enough.
“You could always let me go,” Cindy suggested.
“I need you to go where we know I can’t,” Sapphira reminded her. “You haven’t forgotten about the mentoring meeting downtown tonight, have you?”
Cindy made a moue of regret. “No, but I wish you had. I don’t like going down there. It’s creepy.”
She had to admit the inner city after dark gave her a slight pause as well, but the area around Reverend Alton’s church was policed quite well. Having been an advocate for the area for years, the reverend had contacted Belle Charities about making donations to his various causes--after school programs for kids, continuing education for adults and Sapphira’s favorite cause, mentoring young unwed mothers.
Her own experience aside, in many cases these girls were virtually alone with no one to help them become the mothers and providers they would need to be in order to rear a successful, healthy, well-rounded, drug free child. Though she’d lost her own baby, Sapphira still knew that becoming a mother in the best of circumstances was difficult enough--becoming one with little to no education, spotty nutrition and no help was much worse.
In order to accommodate the growing demand for mentors and firmly believing that one could make a difference, Sapphira had asked for volunteer Belles to become mentors. Like Cindy, many had been nervous about that particular area of town, but ultimately everyone who’d begun to participate had decided the risk was worth the reward.
Naturally Sapphira understood Cindy’s reticence--even Ella had been a little worried about her traveling into the inner city area--but Reverend Alton would ensure her safety and bottom line, as second in command, Cindy had to be there in Sapphira’s absence.
“Let’s see,” Cindy drawled thoughtfully. “You get to go home with that good-looking guy out there and I get to go step over used needles and pray that I don’t get mugged--or worse,” she added direly with a delicate shudder. “Who’s getting the better end of the deal here?”
Sapphira coul
dn’t help but smile. “On the surface you probably think that I am, but let me put it into perspective for you. Yes, I get to go home with that good-looking man out there. But I don’t get to touch him or talk to him about anything of importance.” She winced. “Instead, I get the happy job of making him think that I am shallow, spoiled, self-absorbed and relatively unintelligent.” Her heart drooped a little lower with every unflattering adjective. “Because, at the end of the day, I have to make him dislike me to the point that he quits, or at the very least, asks to be assigned to another case.”
Understanding dawned slowly in her friend’s intelligent gaze. “And you want him to like you.”
“I want everyone to like me,” Sapphira said, shifting uncomfortably.
“You didn’t care of the other three liked you,” she countered. “You didn’t like playing the part, but you didn’t give a rip whether the other security specialists personally liked you or not.” Her gaze narrowed. “What’s different about this one?”
Sapphira sighed. “You mean aside from the fact that he made my toes curl? I-- I don’t know. I just...”
“Like him,” Cindy finished, a slow knowing smile curling her lips. “You like this one and you don’t want him to hate you.”
In a nutshell, she supposed that was the truth. She’d never reacted so strongly to a person before in her life--not just physically, which had been disconcerting in and of itself. Sexual attraction aside, there was something more to Lucas Finn, a wounded look behind those curious gray eyes, a sense of sadness lurking beneath that sexy smile. Something haunted him, Sapphira instinctively knew and the urge to discover his ghosts and exorcise them for him was as strong as her need to breathe. Odd when she’d only been in his company a few hours, but she couldn’t deny it all the same. Those issues combined with that rock-your-world smile and I-could-break-you-like-a-twig strength made him lethally appealing.
Unfortunately, ghosts or no, his very presence endangered everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. Too many people were dependent on her to let a little thing like whether or not her bodyguard liked her interfere. She had to keep the bigger picture in focus, not just the one he presented.
He had to hate her, Sapphira thought resignedly.
And the sooner the better.
CHAPTER 4
“How’s it going so far?”
Huck shot a dark look across the lingerie section of the department store and stifled the growing urge to howl. “Fine,” he lied into his cell phone, forcing a smile so that maybe it would actually reach his voice. “Everything’s going fine.”
Jamie Flanagan’s low laugh rumbled into his ear. “Bullshit. What? She’s got you out shopping with her, doesn’t she? I can hear the music. Shoes or panties?”
Huck blinked. “Come again?”
“If she’s not carrying the dog to have her hair colored or visiting the gynecologist, then she’s either shopping for shoes or looking at panties. The woman can flat waste some time in a store and typically, it’s one that is designed to make a man miserable.”
Huck rubbed the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re in the panty store,” he admitted, mortified.
He heard Flanagan share that tidbit with the rest of the group and a chorus of you-poor-bastard laughter reached his ears. “S-sorry, man. But better you than me. I served my time. I feel for you.”
He felt for himself and he hadn’t even reached the end of the first day with her yet. Honestly, she’d been ogling undergarments--slinky, sexy, sheer things held together with tiny bits of lace and thread--for the better part of an hour. He’d watched her disappear into the fitting room, hands loaded down with matching bras and panties and, evidently his imagination was much better than he would have ever dreamed because he could mentally dress her in each and every matching set with little to no problem at all.
In short--gallingly--his anger wasn’t the only thing swelling around here.
Furthermore, though he’d been watching closely he hadn’t seen a single person--aside from the coffee shop clerk she’d snapped at over the low foam on her latte--who wanted to do her any bodily injury. No suspicious-looking characters, no threat of any sort. And, though he could have misread the file, he didn’t think any of the others had noted anything odd either.
“Listen I know I’m the new guy here, but something about this doesn’t feel right. For someone who is supposedly in danger, she’s not the least bit worried and I haven’t detected even the slightest hint of a threat.”
“We didn’t either,” Flanagan admitted. “But the letters are real and her father is worried, so our job is to do what we’re getting paid for. Protect her, of course, and find the source of risk.”
He knew that--and would follow orders--but it didn’t keep him from seriously wondering just what the hell was going on. Another thought struck. “Did you meet her father?”
“No, I didn’t. Payne pulled first duty with her and he’s the only one who’s met Mr. Stravos.”
Ranger Security reputation aside, he still thought that was strange.
“Any new developments in the case?” Jamie asked. “Has another letter arrived?”
“Not that I’m aware of. We’ve, er... We’ve been gone all day,” he admitted. “Pussy had to have her nails painted--
“P-pussy?” Flanagan chuckled. “Isn’t the dog named Trixie?”
“It’s not what I’m calling her,” Huck said grimly. “Then Sapphira had an appointment to get waxed and buffed and her nails done.” Clearly he’d gone into the wrong business--he needed to open a pet-friendly spa, one where the owners and animals could get their manicures and pedicures, hair and the like done at the same time. The idea made a grim chuckle rise up in his throat. He blew out a breath. “Then we had to drive all over town to find a particular shade of lip gloss to match the new nail color ‘because the shade at the spa was more peachy than pink’--“ Now there was a sentence he never thought he’d use, particularly in the security field. “--and now we’re here, where’s she tried on every freakin’ pair of panties in the store, with the exception of the control top garments.”
He glared down at the dog currently resting atop his foot. Meanwhile, he was dog-sitting. Again.
Jamie laughed once more, then apologized. “Sorry, man. We warned you.”
Yes, they did. Regardless, this was not at all what he’d envisioned when he’d signed on for the job. Naturally he hadn’t expected anything to be so thrilling as being a paratrooper--free-falling through the sky was a singularly unique sensation which he knew from personal experience had no rival, and God how he missed it--but he had expected to need adrenaline more than patience, at the very least.
“You’re not regretting you decision, are you?” Flanagan asked, showcasing a keen sense of insight.
When he’d rather not lie, Huck had learned to merely remain silent.
Flanagan let go an uneasy breath. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, in three years in business this is the first case we’ve had of this sort.”
“Hopefully it’ll be the last,” Huck told him, resisting the urge to rub his throbbing leg. At any rate, what did it matter? He couldn’t be a paratrooper anymore and this was the best gig in town. Even if it didn’t feel like it at the moment, Huck thought, staring morosely at the check-out counter where Sapphira had finally moved.
Promising to call with regular updates, he disconnected the call. He’d barely stowed it in the holder before it vibrated again. Huck checked the caller ID display and felt a smile tug the edge of his mouth. Mick.
“How’s it going, Falcon? You teaching those boys how to kick some security ass yet?”
Huck chuckled. “Hardly. I’m guarding a socialite and we’re presently in the panty store.”
Mick’s easy laugh came over the line. “She pretty?”
That would be the first thing his hell-raising love’em and leave’em friend would ask. “Did you hear me?” Huck asked, purposely ignoring the question. “I’m in
a panty store.”
“Yeah, well, I’m getting ready to head out again.”
Huck’s senses went on point. “Where?”
“You know I can’t say. Just another miserable village in another war torn country.”
He detected an unusual undercurrent in his friend’s voice--reticence? Fear? “When will you be back?”
“End of the week, God willin’.”
“Be careful.”
Mick laughed. “When you’re as good as I am, you don’t have to be careful.”
Arrogant bastard, Huck thought, shaking his head. “You’re so full of shit.”
“And you’re in a panty store, guarding a pretty woman. Wanna trade?”
Huck’s gaze homed in on Sapphira. “I never said she was pretty.”
“I know. Sometimes it’s what goes unsaid that ends up being the most telling.”
“What? Have you been reading your fortune cookies again?”
“Asshole,” Mick shot back, laughing. He paused. “Have you heard anything from that PI you hired?”
Mick was the only person on the planet who knew why he’d buggered that training session, who knew that he’d decided he had to know who his father was. He swallowed. “He called this morning. He still doesn’t have anything yet, but he’s working on it. It’s tough going because it’s a small town and I don’t want my mother to know that I’m doing any snooping around.”
“I still think you need to just ask her.”
He knew what he thought and he disagreed. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too afraid of hurting her. “You know I don’t want to do that.”
“If you want answers, you may end up not having a choice.”
Huck sighed. He’d just have to cross that bridge when he came to it. He told him as much. “Give me a call when you get back, will you?” It was the closest thing to a let-me-know-you’re-okay as he could get.
“Will do,” Mick told him, accepting the gesture for what it was. Huck disconnected, thankful that Mick had been a stubborn sonofabitch and hadn’t given up on him as a friend after the accident. He smiled. Oh, hell. Who was he kidding? When had he ever known Mick Chivers to give up on anything? Belatedly remembering his target, Huck’s gaze found Sapphira once more.
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