The Bride's Bodyguard

by Beth Cornelison

  “Is what I should have done. Airing my dirty laundry serves no purpose, so don’t hand me any psychoanalysis or some crap about ‘sharing my feelings.’”

  She winced and choked down the platitudes waiting on her tongue. Squeezing the sheet in her fist tighter, she angled her head to gaze blindly across the camper toward his bed. “Then why did you tell me?”

  “You asked.”

  She chuckled softly. “I asked why you thought I was spoiled.”

  “And a bunch of other follow-up questions that…” He grunted. “Hell. I don’t know.”

  He sounded charmingly embarrassed, and she grinned.

  “It’s dark in here,” he said, and she heard his bed squeak again as he shifted his weight.

  She pulled a face, knowing he couldn’t see it. “Duh. So?”

  “It’s easier to be honest, to…spill your guts, when it’s dark. When no one can look at you, and you don’t have to see people’s reactions. Or so I hear. Guess it must be true, since I—” A buzz of lips accompanied his exhaled breath. “Just forget I said anything, and go to sleep.”

  Paige rolled to her side, facing Jake in the darkness, and pillowed her hands under her cheek. She wouldn’t push him. “Sure. Good night, Jake.”

  But she knew it would be a long time before she fell asleep. He’d given her far too much fodder for her restless thoughts and analytical mind.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, Jake woke early after a restless night of little sleep. When he did manage to steal a few minutes of shut-eye, his dreams were vivid and disturbing—roadside bombings where he found Paige dead among the carnage, meetings with his child-services caseworker where she told him he had failed his duty as a SEAL, campfires where the flames leaped out to grab Paige while she cried, “Why didn’t you plan for this?”

  He woke in a sweat that had nothing to do with the humid June morning and the lack of air-conditioning in their camper. Keeping the sheet around his waist, he bent to collect his jeans from the floor. In the watery light of daybreak that seeped into the camper, Jake studied Paige’s profile. She had her back to him, her curvy hip and trim waist draped by her sheet, and her long dark hair spread in a chocolate cascade against the white pillowcase.

  Peaceful. Beautiful. Off-limits.

  A fist of emotion blindsided him and squeezed his lungs.

  Last night had been a mistake. Lulled into a false sense of privacy and emotional security by the still, dark night and Paige’s soft, reassuring voice, he’d told her things he’d never shared with anyone. He’d bared parts of his soul he rarely acknowledged even to himself. And what had he gotten for his honesty? An endless parade of nightmares and the prospect of her pitying looks today.

  Hell. What had he been thinking?

  He scrubbed his face and finger-combed his hair. If she mentioned his late-night ramblings, he could always downplay them, shrug them off as inconsequential.

  He blew out a sleep-deprived sigh. Paige was smarter than that. He could only hope she’d respect his request to forget the conversation ever happened.

  His stomach growled, and as quietly as he could, he rummaged through the bag of groceries they’d bought yesterday on the way to the campground. He selected a couple of granola bars and an apple, then set up the collapsible table to start working his way through Scofield’s files again.

  There had to be more clues to what the bead was, what Brent had gotten mixed up in, than what the research files he’d read yesterday indicated.

  Flu vaccines. GPS coordinates in Brent’s datebook. A jeweler’s receipt. How did it all fit together? What was the bigger picture he was missing? Did Paige know something she didn’t know she knew, something that might have seemed inconsequential to her when she first learned it?

  He opted to take his turn reading through the files on Scofield’s computer. Scofield likely thought his password-protected computer files were safe. He’d likely not kept a hard copy of anything truly incriminating.

  He opened Paige’s laptop and said a prayer that the battery lasted long enough for him to get something accomplished today. The low-wattage electric hookup the campsite provided wasn’t sufficient to recharge the computer battery. Soon, he and Paige would have to go back into town and find an internet café where they could broaden their research and recharge the laptop.

  But today, he wanted to lay low. Scour the files they had. Tap Paige’s memory once more, now that she’d had time to look at her relationship with Brent from a fresh perspective.

  The laptop beeped and chirped as it started up, and Paige stirred. She rolled to her back, then jerked her head to face him with a gasp. “Oh, it’s you.” She rubbed her eyes. “For a minute, I forgot where I was and—”

  “Sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet.” He held up a granola bar. “Breakfast?”

  She laid her arm over her eyes and groaned groggily. “Later.”

  He turned his attention back to the computer, which awaited his next command. He logged in using Paige’s password and started opening documents to read.

  Sheets rustled, and Paige slid her feet to the floor and raked her tousled hair back from her face. He hazarded a glance at her.

  Damn, but she was sexy in the morning, rumpled from sleep as if she’d just been thoroughly…

  Jake dropped his gaze to the screen again and shoved the thought aside. For starters, Paige was not the sort to indulge in one-night stands or raucous sex. He knew that much about her after just a few days with her. She would make love. Emphasis on the emotion.

  Which was all the reason he needed to keep his mind off Paige and any notion of sharing her bed.

  He swallowed hard, fighting the temptation to peek up at her again as she smoothed out the sheets on her bed and managed, through some admirable contortions, to change shirts without ever being topless.

  “Making love” doesn’t preclude lusty, aerobic, thoroughly satisfying sex.

  When the thought popped into his head, his hands shook so hard, he had to reenter a file name three times before he got it right.

  She cleared her throat. “Um…Jake?”

  Paige’s voice sent a wave of heat over his skin, deep into his belly. He clenched his teeth and kept his head bent over the computer. “Yeah?”

  “I need to go to the bathhouse. I want to get a shower…among other things.”

  His eyes darted up to hers now. She had a towel over her arm, a bottle of shampoo in her hand, her bottom lip caught in her teeth.

  Damn, he wished she wouldn’t bite her mouth that way. It made him want to nibble that lip himself. And somehow the gesture made her green eyes look wider and more vulnerable.

  “You said you wanted to go with me wherever I went. Even to the bathhouse.”

  He closed the computer and scooted it back. “Right.” He slid out from the bench seat and jammed his feet in his shoes, praying his jeans didn’t look as tight as they felt.

  He’d been part of a lot of dangerous, top secret missions as a SEAL. But being Paige’s bodyguard, sticking by her wherever she went, being near her 24/7, may well be the toughest assignment he’d ever undertaken.

  Paige spent a hot, wearisome day cooped up in the tiny camper with Jake, going over Brent’s files. Even after hours of tedious reading and note taking, they’d not learned more than what they knew yesterday. The bead was probably in her wedding ring. Brent’s most recent project with R and D was for a new flu vaccine. To date, the vaccine was still in the works, nothing terrorists should be interested in.

  Besides the strange GPS coordinates, Brent’s datebook didn’t mention any unexplained meetings or contacts that Paige didn’t recognize. None of the older projects mentioned in his files could be construed as any threat to national security, including an attempt by Bancroft Industries to create a drug to treat erectile dysfunction.

  When he discovered the notes on that development project, Jake sent her a hooded glance. “So maybe not all of your products are developed to save lives. Mayb
e this project was about cashing in?”

  Paige sent him a patient glance. “Doesn’t quality of life count for anything?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Counts for $2.6 million in gross sales for the company, according to your market research.”

  She gave him a wry grin, then cocked her head. “Although I find your interest in the product…fascinating.”

  Jake’s eyes widened, and color flushed his cheeks. “I don’t—” he fumbled.

  Paige chuckled, but her mind flashed back to that morning when Jake had stood from behind the table to escort her to the bathhouse. She’d seen for herself that Jake didn’t. Not by a long shot…

  Danger, her conscience screamed. Any consideration of Jake’s virility was definitely a treacherous path for her. Working in such close proximity all day had been hard enough.

  As the day passed, his wide shoulders seemed to fill more and more of the cramped space. When the heat of the day had led him to shed his shirt, she’d nearly swallowed her tongue. And the sexy, low rumble of his voice as they dissected Brent’s reports, looking for useful information, had made her belly quiver on more than one occasion. His deep, throaty mmmhmms as he reviewed new information reminded her of the gentle roll of thunder announcing a sultry summer storm. Or of a man savoring a good orgasm.

  Now it was her turn to blush. She felt the sting of heat in her cheeks and covered her embarrassment by shoving to her feet and pacing to the other end of the camper—all of about six feet—to stretch the kinks from her back.

  She hitched a thumb toward the door and stuttered, “I’m…gonna go—”

  Jake started to slide out from the table, and she held up her hand.

  “Down boy. I just want some fresh air. I won’t leave our campsite.”

  He rolled his muscled shoulders and nodded once. “I’m gonna read the last few files we downloaded from Brent’s computer before I call it quits for the day.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Later, if you’ll help me gather up some wood, we’ll have our own campfire tonight.”

  With a nod of agreement, she staggered out of the sweltering camper to the equally stifling outdoors. She sent an envious glance toward the Appelmans’ RV, where a window air-conditioning unit purred quietly. That morning, the Appelmans had been pulling out of the campsite with fishing equipment loaded in the back of their truck when Jake and Paige had returned from the bathhouse.

  She longed for just a couple minutes in front of the cool breeze of that window unit….

  She glanced back toward their own rented camper and sighed. Maybe a cold shower would better suit her needs. Last week, if someone had told her she’d be so powerfully attracted to a man so ill-suited for her, she’d have laughed. But then, if that same someone had suggested Brent was involved in something nefarious and was wanted by terrorists, she’d have had a similar reaction. Preposterous!

  But she was undeniably drawn to Jake. So she had to either figure out how to control her lusty urges or just have a fling with Jake and work the erotic longing out of her system. She dropped onto a large log that a previous enterprising camper had placed near their fire pit as a bench.

  Have a sexual fling with Jake? Was she nuts?

  Paige plowed her fingers into her sweat-dampened hair and groaned. Tempting as the notion was, that kind of recklessness was more Zoey’s style. Paige couldn’t commit to something so bold without considering the ramifications. For starters, although she was on the pill, using a condom, too, would provide additional protection. Before she slept with Jake, she’d have to buy—

  Paige shook her head and scoffed. Before she slept with Jake? As if it were a done deal, an inevitability?

  The heat was affecting her reasoning, her sanity. She and Jake were nothing alike. She wasn’t even sure he liked her much. He seemed to resent the family’s money.

  It’s not the money. Jake’s whispered confession last night teased her memory, and her heart tripped. I guess I’m a little envious that you have so many people that care about you.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about the pain that had filled Jake’s voice last night when he’d told her about being bounced from one foster home to another and about the loss of his navy family. He’d been burned so many times.

  Was there something she could do to prove to him that not everyone in his life would be so fickle?

  Yet even as she had that thought, Brent’s deception, the lies of their relationship ricocheted through her head. She’d faithfully kept her promises to Brent, even though she hadn’t loved him, but her loyalty and commitment hadn’t been enough to forge a meaningful, lasting relationship. Why was it her sisters, even flighty, irresponsible Zoey, could make relationships work, when she couldn’t? What else did she need to do to prove herself? She wasn’t above putting hard work into making a relationship work, but all her sacrifices with Brent had been for naught. What else—?

  Jake stepped out of the camper, and Paige snapped her gaze up, losing her train of thought in an instant. Damn it, how did Jake do that? Around him, all rational thought fled, her concentration shattered and her hormones took control.

  He met her inquiring gaze and shrugged. “So much for reading those last few files. The laptop died.”

  “We have an electric hookup. Can’t we recharge the battery? Run it off the hookup?”

  He shook his head. “Not enough juice here. We’ll need to take it into town, find a low-profile place where we can hang out for a couple hours without attracting attention. Someplace with Wi-Fi would be good. I have a few questions I want to research on the net.”

  He strolled over and sat beside her on the log bench. His slightly musky, somewhat woodsy, thoroughly sexy scent drifted to her on a stir of breeze. The masculine aroma danced along every nerve ending, firing all her senses. She’d never been so aware of a man in her life. The sound of his voice, the scent of his shampoo, the color of his eyes, the feel of his lips on hers…

  Heat flashed through her, raising her already high body temperature. She lifted her face to the pitifully insufficient waft of humid air, looking for some shred of relief from the June heat wave.

  “So three days in, and we really don’t have much more to go on than when we started.” She watched a boy toss a Frisbee to an energetic dog a few campsites away and sighed her frustration with their progress. “We still have no clue what the security threat is and what to do about it. Or how to get the gun-toting goons off our backs.”

  Chapter 9

  The next day, after loading anything that could be relevant to their case in the rented Taurus, they headed back into Lagniappe to find an internet café. Near a large mall, they found a coffee shop that boasted Wi-Fi access that met their needs.

  While Jake was occupied, she eased across the coffee shop, nearer to the order counter where she had a modicum of privacy. Using the prepaid cell phone Jake had bought her the first night they were in hiding, Paige punched in Holly’s cell-phone number.

  “Hello?” Holly sounded tired, uncertain, wary.

  “It’s me.”

  “Paige! How—?”

  “I’m fine, but I don’t have much time to talk. Are you still in Lagniappe? How are Mom and Dad? Have you heard anything from Zoey? Is Brent conscious yet?”

  “Whoa. Slow down! And to answer your questions—yes, worried sick, no, and yes.”

  Paige performed a mental rewind to remember what she’d asked and match the answers. When she reached the last answer, she blinked, gasped. “Brent’s awake? He survived?”

  Her heart hammered an expectant, hopeful rhythm. If she could get to St. Mary’s hospital and talk to him…

  “He woke up a couple hours ago, but he’s weak,” Holly replied. “The doctors are about to operate to fix some new complications that have come up. Something about damaged veins or arteries…. They say in his condition, it’s risky surgery, but without the repair, the veins could tear at any time, and he’d die.”

  Brent was awake, but for how
long? She bit down on her bottom lip and tried to squelch the trill of panic rising in her chest. She had to talk to him before he went into surgery. Brent had answers she and Jake needed. “Is he alert? Is he coherent?”

  “Yes.” Holly paused. “Paige, if you have…things you need to say to Brent, things to settle between you for your own peace of mind, you should come. You should be here when he goes into surgery and—”

  Paige glanced across the coffee shop where Jake had his head down, his attention focused on the laptop. “I—I can’t come, Hol. Those men are looking for us. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Paige, Brent needs you! If the man I loved was dying, wild horses couldn’t keep me away!”

  Paige swallowed the bitter taste of guilt that rose in her throat. “Holly, I…I don’t love Brent. I…never did.” Silence screamed through the line, and Paige squeezed the phone tighter. “Holly?”

  “I kinda wondered…before the wedding. I mean, you didn’t seem happy. Not truly happy, like I am with Matt.”

  Not like I am with Jake.

  The thought popped into her head unbidden, and Paige’s pulse spiked.

  Jake made her happy. Despite the mosquitoes, the fear of being found by Trench Coat’s band of thugs, the total upheaval of the past several days, she was happy. She loved matching wits with Jake, loved his wry humor, loved his courage and sense of duty. She felt safe with him. She had an inner peace about Jake that she’d never known with Brent. An assurance that she was where she was meant to be.

  I always knew I was an outsider.

  The echo of Jake’s words from the other night sent a sharp pain to her core. He still held himself apart, kept a distance between himself and others.

  “Paige? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I—” On the heels of the disappointment over Jake’s isolationism, an impulse prodded Paige to act, to do something to show Jake they made a good team. She hadn’t been much use to him so far, but she had a chance now to earn his respect, prove herself a valuable asset to the mission. “Holly, how long before Brent’s surgery? Do I have time to come talk to him?”