by CC MacKenzie
In the end, she was the one who moved.
When she winced slightly as he withdrew, he looked between them to see a smear of blood on his thigh and hers.
Immediately, regret hit him hard.
"I hurt you."
Her arms wound around his neck as her leg hitched over his hip.
"Nope. You made my first experience of making love absolutely wondrous. I loved every single moment."
His eyes held hers and he relaxed as he saw the dazzling bright-eyed truth staring back at him.
They'd found something very precious this day.
And he wasn't going to say or do anything to spoil it for either of them.
"Let us get cleaned up and then we can do it all again. This time we will take it slowly."
Her smile was so wide, her eyes so clear and happy in her beautiful face, his heart soared with love.
Love?
Was this what love felt like?
Before Pascal could compute the huge wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, she leaped out of bed, grabbed his hand and spoke,
"You're on."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
"You're looking very happy today, Missy."
Anastacia was happy that her best friend was happy, even if she was feeling like crap herself. Olivier hadn't come near her last night. It seemed their relationship was well and truly over. In spite of her own misery, she couldn't help but grin at Danni's walking-on-air dreamy face.
"Is it time for a very loud hallelujah?" asked T.C.
"He wants to be my boyfriend, my friend and my lover."
"Whoa. The man moves fast," said T.C.
Anastacia could only agree.
Maybe things were moving too fast?
But one look at Danni's beaming face and she kept her mouth well and truly shut.
No way was she going to rain on her best pal's parade.
Instead, she moved in to give Danni a big hug.
"I'm so happy for you. He's a lovely man."
T.C. joined in the group love-fest, although her eyes caught Anastacia's over Danni's dark head. She mouthed, WTF?
Anastacia shrugged and gave her big eyes in a warning that made it clear T.C. was to leave well alone.
"I'm in the middle of a blog post, what are you two going to do today?" T.C. asked.
Danni shifted back to give them a big toothy grin.
"I'm taking Ana dress shopping."
Dress shopping?
Not a chance, sunshine.
"I'd rather have a burning arrow poked in my eye."
Danni patted her cheek. "I know you hate it, but I want you to try a young designer I've found. Her clothes are amazing. Minimal. Fantastic tailoring. Just made for you."
T.C. moved to sit at her desk, pressed a button on her laptop and started to type.
"Yeah, sounds like a barrel of laughs. Y'all run right along now and have fun. I've gotta busy few hours coming up."
"That organic shampoo?"
T.C. grabbed her ponytail, sniffed her hair. "Yup. Should be called orgasmic. Smells amazeballs. Leaves it all soft and shiny. Feel it."
Her friends did as they were told and cooed and aaahed all over her hair.
Sean walked into what he knew was some sort of girly thing and stopped dead.
The bombshell was wearing a huge black sweatshirt and with matching tight leggings and bare feet. And her amazing hair was in a ponytail and being sniffed by her pals. As soon as she caught him staring, ice entered those baby blues.
Ouch.
He could feel the freeze stretch out and grab him by the throat.
As well as a temper, it appeared she was a grudge holder too.
To show he was not intimidated, he grinned.
Her scowled response could curdle milk.
Anastacia stepped into his line of vision.
"Sean, this is Daniella Pebbles, known as Danni to her friends." She turned to a slim brunette with gorgeous big hazel eyes that went wide as they measured his height, his shoulders. "This is Sean Kennedy, bodyguard."
"With a very twitchy trigger finger," muttered T.C. "Watch him, he carries a gun."
All this was said as she focused on her screen, her fingers dancing fast over the keys.
When the girls faces paled, Sean decided that the bombshell had a big, as well as a beautiful, mouth. He had a feeling he needed to deal with her sooner rather than later. There was no way he was going to have his position undermined by her or anyone else.
"For protection purposes only," he said in an I'm-a-big-pussycat voice, and added a reassuring smile for good measure as he held out a hand to Danni.
Danni, still pale, took his hand.
The tiny tremble made him shoot an I'll-deal-with-you-later-baby look at T.C.
A look that was totally wasted on her since she was one hundred percent focused on the screen. Hiding his frustration that he couldn't give T.C. an attitude adjustment right here and now - the woman was nothing but trouble - he smiled at the girls who were staring at him as if he'd just been beamed down from Pluto.
"Going somewhere?" he asked Anastacia and Danni in the same easy tone as he took in the fact both had handbags the size of a small car slung over their arm.
"We're just popping out to visit a designer who might suit Anastacia," said Danni.
Her voice was soft and low, but it was the big wary eyes that flicked to his that made Sean silently curse T.C. again. She'd scared her friend. Again his eyes flicked to the woman he just knew was going to drive him crazy and he realized she'd been making a dig at him and was totally unaware of the effect her careless words had had on her friend.
But then Anastacia did something that made him her slave.
She put an arm around Danni's narrow waist and pulled her close.
"Sean's first cousin is Elena Kennedy who works at Ludlow Hall."
Danni's smile dimpled in her cheek as the wary look in her eyes disappeared and she relaxed.
The girl was a total sweetheart.
"She's engaged to Marc Atelier. They're getting married soon."
"Yeah," said Sean. "The whole Kennedy clan are looking forward to that shindig."
"Right," said Anastacia. "We'll get out of your hair and see you later."
They made to move to the door, but Sean shifted to block their path.
"Why don't I tag along?"
Danni blinked up into his face.
"Do you really think that's necessary? Ana's trouble happened in the UK. I think she'll be perfectly safe in Paris."
"Just part of the service," he said easily.
Anastacia just shrugged, ran her hands through that amazing waterfall of dark curls.
"Fair enough. But I warn you now it'll be boring."
Somehow he doubted boring was the right word, but Sean held his tongue.
He followed them into the elevator, spoke to his team that their client was on the move and to keep on their toes.
Eyes peeled, he held open the entrance door to the hotel and nodded to Pete, stood back and let Anastacia and Danni clatter past in their flirty dresses and skinny high heels.
Not for a moment did he think anything was going to happen to Anastacia in the middle of a busy Paris street, but Sean had learned the hard way never to assume anything in life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The girls were standing at a pedestrian crossing waiting for the green light when Sean felt the first tickle on the back of his neck. Taking his time, his gaze scanned the people standing next to them and behind and could see nothing out of the ordinary. A gaggle of Japanese tourists were holding up selfie sticks and mugging for their camera phones. There was a young couple holding hands patiently waiting, and a skinny girl wearing a baseball cap pushing a stroller.
Pete's voice in his ear broke his focus. "What's up?"
"Dunno," said Sean into his earpiece. "Gotta tingle. See anything?"
After a silence, Pete's voice came again. "Nope. But you don't tingle for nuthin."
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After working ten years together the men trusted the other's intuition one hundred percent.
"Something's up. Just can't see it."
When the green light beeped, everyone stepped into the road.
Again his neck tickled and Sean moved behind and close to the girls. The quicker he got them off the damned street the better.
By the time the girls had arrived at the designer and were inside nice and safe, Sean stood outside with Pete and behind dark glasses scanned the empty narrow street. Nothing moved.
"The guys can't see anything, but they're doing a recce just in case someone's lurking," said Pete.
Just because they couldn't see danger didn't mean it wasn't there.
His neck didn't tingle for nothing.
"Stay sharp."
An hour later, the girls emerged carrying a couple of glossy white bags with black cord handles. Danni looked pretty pleased with herself, while Anastacia looked as if she'd had a root canal.
"Where to?" he asked.
"Back to the hotel," said Anastacia, her dark blue eyes studying his face. "You look tense. I told you it would be boring."
Sean blinked at how perceptive the girl was.
He was a professional.
Professionals didn't look tense.
"We're cool. Let's head back."
The girls took their own sweet time window shopping.
They were again standing in a crowd at the same pedestrian crossing.
This time when the tickle came it was too late to do anything about it.
Three things happened simultaneously.
Anastacia wound her arm around Danni's waist, heads close together as they inspected the contents of a shopping bag.
A bus was bearing down fast on the junction in an attempt to jump the light.
And the same woman with the same stroller headed for the girls at a run.
Pete yelled in Sean's ear as the stroller barrelled into the back of Danni's legs shooting her head first into the path of the bus and since Anastacia still had her arm around her friend, she went with her.
Instinct to protect kicked in before Sean's brain caught up with the act.
He launched himself between the girls and the bus, grabbed them and rolled.
The clip on his hip shot pain straight to his brain.
And then there was only darkness.
Anastacia sat on the curb with a sobbing Danni next to her.
The shopping bags and their contents had gone flying along with their purses.
Kind Parisians had collected their belongings.
A cafe owner was supplying everyone with hot coffee.
But it was an unconscious Sean Kennedy being wheeled into an ambulance that had tears flowing unheeded down Anastacia's cheeks.
He'd saved their lives.
And risked his own without a second thought.
Someone called Pete had grabbed the girl who'd ran into them with a pushchair.
For a horrified moment, Anastacia was sick to think of an injured baby. But the pushchair held a doll rather than a human being. Thank God.
Then there was a commotion when a white faced Pascal Wolfe and Olivier tried to shoulder through the police cordon. Pascal spoke in rapid French and the gendarmerie stepped aside to let them through.
Olivier dropped next to Anastacia, held her close.
"What the hell happened?"
Anastacia shook her head, her hands shaking so hard her coffee was spilling.
Olivier took the cup, placed it on the pavement.
He ran trembling hands over her head, her face, down her arms.
"I don't really understand it. A woman with a stroller rammed into the back of us and we fell into the road." Her voice hitched as the picture of the bus bearing down on them flashed into her mind. "Sean threw himself under a bus for us." Tears flowed down her face. "He risked his life for me. This is all my fault."
Olivier kissed her right on the mouth, then shifted to stare into her eyes.
The love she saw, for her, made her tear up again.
He spoke through clenched teeth,
"If this is another example of a crazy football fanatic, I'll..."
"Non," said a white-faced Pascal with an edge to his voice. He was sitting in his designer threads on a filthy Paris street with bruised and battered Danni on his knee. The way he was holding her, as if he'd never let her go, made tears flow again as the truth hit Anastacia. Omigod. He loved her. He loved her Danni. "You were not the target. She wanted to hurt Danni."
"Who's she?"
Pascal's dark grey eyes held hers. "Her name is Alianna Fouchet. She used to be a financial journalist. We had a very short relationship. When it ended she refused to accept it was over. Eventually I got a restraining order. She ended up in therapy. Her family had her committed for treatment. She has a history of mental instability."
Anastacia turned to look over her shoulder at a too skinny woman held in handcuffs between two huge policemen. Her shoulders were hunched. Her eyes fixed on the pavement. She seemed to be humming a tune.
"But why would she want to hurt Danni?"
"The gendarmerie found hundreds of pictures of Danni and me on her cell phone and digital camera. Pictures of us taken at the fashion show, walking along the river. She has been following Danni."
Anastacia just closed her eyes and leaned against the warm strength of Olivier.
It seemed she wasn't the only one who attracted crazies.
"Where do you hurt, ma petite chat," Pascal asked Danni.
"Just bumps and bruises. I'm fine," she whispered into his neck.
Pete crouched down in front of Anastacia to look her straight in the eye.
He wasn't as tall as his boss, but he looked just as tough.
"They're taking Sean to the hospital. He has a bump on his hard head, a few bruised ribs. Don't think anything's broken. He's always been a lucky bastard, but he's unconscious so they need to do a CAT scan, the usual."
"I want to go with him," she made to stand, but her legs wouldn't hold her.
"Nah. You go home and I'll phone and let you know how he is."
"I don't want him to be alone, he nearly died saving my life today."
"All part of the job." He stood, looked down at her face, cracked a smile. "I'll be riding shotgun on you until he's fighting fit. Go home. Get some rest." He turned to Olivier, gave a nod and strode into the waiting ambulance.
Before she could get to her feet, Anastacia found herself lifted in strong arms.
As Olivier shouldered his way through the crowd, she wound her arms around his neck.
Through her lashes, she peaked at his stern face.
"You're not going to carry me all the way to the hotel."
"Si."
"I'm too heavy."
The way his mouth twitched thrilled her.
The way his eyes flicked to hers thrilled her, too.
"You have lost weight pining for me," he said with complete confidence.
Once she'd picked her jaw up from the curb, she wriggled in his arms.
"Of all the arrogant..."
"Silenzio," he said in a tone that warned her he was in no mood to argue. "We will talk in our suite, after you have rested."
"I don't need to rest," she said sounding like a five year old having a sulk.
She ignored the passerby's smiles and comments.
And said nothing until the door was closed behind them in Olivier's suite.
He sat her on the bed.
Then he stood above her and studied her carefully.
"You are not moving from here until we have sorted out everything between us."
Her eyes travelled up long legs clad in black jeans, white shirt in soft white cotton opened at the neck. And up to a face that would make angel's weep. A face that was determined. A face that belonged to a man on a mission.
Any residual anger with how he'd treated her, not trusted her, seemed to simply leak away.
She loved him.
She always would.
And as she stared into those brooding dark eyes, Anastacia knew she was toast.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Meanwhile, T.C. was sitting in Pascal Wolfe's penthouse apartment listening to the whole story of the day’s events from a Danni whose tears were flowing freely.
T.C. didn't do tears, but she found a hot hard lump in her throat when she saw the way Pascal refused to let her friend loose from her place on his knee.
Danni wore a thick robe of white cotton.
Her face was scrubbed squeaky clean and the tip of her nose was pink.
Only Danni could pull off looking gorgeous while tears streamed down her face.
Her left elbow and skinned knees had taken the brunt of the fall.
If it hadn't been for Sean Kennedy's quick thinking and reaction the outcome could have been a helluva lot worse.
"How is the hero of the hour?" drawled T.C.
A sarcastic tone that made Danni's frown a chastisement.
"He's still unconscious and not allowed visitors."
Now T.C. felt an unwelcome hint of anxiety and wondered just how serious his injuries were.
She didn't want him badly hurt.
But perhaps a weakened Sean might be easier to handle.
Didn't he deserve her gratitude for saving the lives of her friends?
Maybe she would pop along to the hospital.
Maybe take a bunch of flowers, just to make sure the big lug was going to be fine.
Deciding to leave the love-birds to their billing and cooing, T.C. waved them goodbye and before she could talk herself out of it, hailed a taxi.
***
"Well, he's not dead. At least that's something."
The voice wobbled a bit, sounded like a woman's, sounded upset.