Beauty and the Bodyguard

by Lisa Childs

  But instead of changing the subject as she always had whenever he’d asked her something personal, she stared up at him, her usually warm brown eyes cool and guarded. And she replied, “Not yet.”

  Was he a mistake she was considering making? He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t risk making a mistake of his own. Not now...

  Not with his daughter and other innocent bystanders—and Penny—in danger. He had to act and quickly before more guests arrived at the church. There had only been a few early arrivals, besides those armed people. Unfortunately, they’d been aunts and uncles and cousins of his late wife, unarmed civilians who wouldn’t be able to help him protect the others.

  If only some of his agents or Penny’s sons had arrived already...

  “Where do you keep your signal jammer?” he asked.

  “Nobody’s been in my office,” she said.

  “Where do you keep it?” he persisted. God, the woman was stubborn. It was good that he’d decided not to ask her out—despite all the times he’d thought about it since meeting her. He’d picked up his phone a million times to call her. But something had held him back.

  Fear. He was not good husband material. His late wife had told him that often enough. He had been consumed with his career, had spent so much time away. Of course that had ended when she’d gotten sick. His job was still just as important to him, though.

  Like Penny’s job was to her...

  She pulled a charm from the bracelet on her wrist—a tiny key—and slid it into a lock on a drawer built into the wall perpendicular to her desk. Instead of the drawer opening, the wall slid forward revealing a space behind it large enough for a glass case full of guns and the signal jammer. The industrial-style box jammer was closed and inactive.

  “What the hell?” he murmured, in awe of the hiding place and the equipment and guns she’d stowed inside it.

  “This church has a lot of history,” she said.

  He suspected not all of it had been good. She’d been married there. He wasn’t sure if that had been a good or bad union.

  “There are other hiding places,” she said. “And a secret passageway that leads to the little courtyard out back.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “You can leave that way.” But were there other armed gunmen outside? Would they see her if she escaped that way?

  She shook her head. “I’m not leaving.”

  “We need backup,” he reminded her. “And since you’re not the one jamming the signals, someone else is.” Someone who’d planned to cut off communication to the church.

  She turned back toward her desk and opened a bottom drawer. “I have a landline, too,” she told him.

  He was surprised. Smartphones were more useful, especially for businesses.

  She had an old-school kind, the console with the cord attaching the receiver to it. No wonder she put it in a drawer, so it didn’t take up too much of the surface of her whitewashed oak desk. When she put the receiver to her ear, her brow furrowed. “There’s no dial tone.”

  That didn’t surprise him. If the gunmen had gone to the trouble of jamming the cell signals, they would have made certain to cut the landline, too. And they probably had reinforcements stationed outside. He couldn’t send her out alone to the courtyard.

  He needed reinforcements of his own.

  Penny’s eyes widened—looking even bigger and darker—as her face paled. And the woman who usually had all the answers asked, “What are we going to do?”

  Something shifted in Woodrow’s chest, squeezing his heart. He reached for her—intending to offer her only comfort from the fear gripping her. But her lips parted on a soft gasp, and he had the sudden urge to taste them.

  To taste her...

  Before he could lower his head to hers, the doorknob rattled. Someone had found them. Would he have time to draw his weapon and protect them?

  Chapter 5

  Frustration knotted Gage’s stomach muscles. The damn little buttons were driving him crazy. His fingers were too big to grasp them, let alone push them through the little loops wrapped tightly around them. The edge of the glass or crystal was sharp, scraping his fingertips. He glanced at the scissors she’d set on the vanity table.

  “I should cut it off,” he said.

  “You should,” she eagerly agreed.

  But he liked Nikki’s plan to change places with the bride. Hell, maybe he just liked it because Megan would no longer be the bride. He shouldn’t care that she was going to marry another man. While he’d once considered asking her to marry him, he never would again. She’d said she hadn’t loved the man he’d been. She certainly wouldn’t love the one he had become. “We can’t.”

  He’d been at it for long moments and had only undone one button. They were spaced so closely together that even with the couple that Nikki had undone, only a little more than an inch of Megan’s skin was visible through the slight opening.

  Megan was never comfortable showing much skin. She always dressed in layers. Skirts with tights beneath and tall boots. Blouses buttoned to her throat with sweaters over them. She dressed like the librarian she was. For some reason Gage had found that super sexy. Just like he’d always taken his time unwrapping presents, to draw out the anticipation and excitement, he’d taken his time getting Megan out of her clothes.

  He’d toyed with the zippers on her boots before lowering them and pulling them off her curvy calves. He’d taken his time with the buttons on her cardigan sweaters and on her blouses beneath them. Even with the layers, she’d never had as many buttons as this, though.

  And at least then his efforts had been rewarded. He’d been able to stroke and taste all that honey-colored skin he’d exposed. He’d been able to elicit soft moans and cries from her as she’d pressed her hot, naked body against his.

  Remembering the sensations—the heat, the tension, the pleasure—had a groan slipping from his throat.

  “Use the scissors,” she told him.

  But his frustration wasn’t with the buttons. It was with the fact that even if he managed to undo all those buttons, he wouldn’t be able to kiss and touch the skin he exposed. She wasn’t his anymore.

  She’d never really been his, because she’d never trusted him. She’d never trusted what they’d had. Or she wouldn’t have accused of him using her.

  “I can’t...” he said.

  She tilted her head and peered over her shoulder at him. “Can’t cut it off?”

  He couldn’t keep thinking about what they’d had, what they’d done to each other. How he hadn’t ever been able to get enough of her.

  Heat rushed through him, making his blood warm, his skin tingle. He’d bared less than an inch of her silky skin, but he wanted her as obsessively as he’d always wanted her.

  Maybe it was her shyness that had appealed to him the first time they’d met. When her father had introduced them, she hadn’t met his gaze, and she’d ignored his outstretched hand, hers shoved deep into the pockets of her skirt. Used to women seeking his attention, flirting with him, he’d been intrigued by the novelty of Megan Lynch. She’d challenged him.

  And Gage had never been able to walk away from a challenge...until the end. Until he’d realized there was no way he would ever win her trust or her heart.

  He just shook his head.

  And her face paled. “You’re giving up again?”

  “Again?” he asked. “When did I give up before?”

  Unless she was talking about them. But she’d given him no choice then.

  Now color flushed her face. “You quit the Bureau.”

  After they’d broken up, he hadn’t been able to work for her father. Not only would it have been awkward but it would have killed his pride. He’d learned what everyone thought of him—that he was doing the boss’s daughter in order to get ahead. Megan had believed those vicious rumors. So maybe that was another reason he’d quit, to prove her wrong.

  “I had my reasons,” he reminded her.

  She jerked her chin up
and down in a nervous nod. “I thought it was my fault. The reason you quit, the reason you reenlisted, the reason you...” Her voice cracked, cutting off whatever she’d been about to add.

  “The reason I what?”

  “Got killed,” she said. “I thought you were dead.”

  And she’d blamed herself. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. He’d blamed her, too. Getting mad at her had eased some of his pain.

  “I didn’t die there,” he said. He wasn’t so certain that he wouldn’t here, though. He glanced to the door, wondering if those armed people were out there yet, waiting to force their way inside.

  “Do you think it’s that dangerous?” she asked.

  He didn’t have Penny Payne and Nick Rus’s notorious instincts or he wouldn’t have fallen for Megan in the first place. Nor would he have spent six months in captivity in Afghanistan. But maybe those six months had helped him develop some kind of sixth sense as well.

  Because he knew Megan Lynch’s wedding day wasn’t going to end well—for anyone.

  She expelled a shaky breath. “You do...”

  “Nikki has a good plan to switch places,” he said. But Nikki had been gone a long time. Had one of those gunmen taken her out?

  He pulled his cell from his pocket and glanced at his blank screen. She hadn’t gotten the jammer turned off yet. They still had no backup. No way of knowing if Ellen had even been able to reach Nick.

  Gage flashed back to those six months that he’d spent wondering if anyone was going to come to his rescue, if they knew where he was or even that he was alive.

  They hadn’t. There had been no help coming. So he’d had to rely on himself. Then. And now.

  “We need to get you out of here,” he said. Maybe it was time to cut off the wedding dress. He reached for the scissors.

  But she caught his hand, her fingers sliding over his. “No.”

  “It was your idea,” he reminded her.

  Her face flushed. “I know. But now I don’t think it’s a good idea...”

  He thought he understood, even though it knotted his stomach, this time with dread. It was still her wedding gown. She must have been having second thoughts about destroying it.

  “You want to wear it again,” he said. “For Richard.”

  “Richard.” His name slipped through her lips on a gasp. “Richard—what if he’s in danger?”

  Gage didn’t give a damn. But then guilt flashed through him. Richard Boersman had never done anything to him. It had been the other way around. Gage was the one who’d stolen Megan from Richard. But he hadn’t been able to keep her.

  “You really think anyone has a beef with Richard?” he asked with disbelief. “I’m sure he’s perfectly safe.” There was no doubt why she’d agreed to marry him. Richard was safe and boring and dull, and she didn’t have to worry about him breaking her heart like she’d constantly worried Gage would.

  The irony was that she’d broken his instead.

  She squeezed Gage’s hand around the scissors. “Please make sure he’s okay.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” he said. If he walked away and left her alone and unprotected, he might never see her again. And he couldn’t risk that.

  Couldn’t risk never seeing her beautiful face again, never touching her soft skin...

  His free hand moved up to cup her cheek. He skimmed his thumb along her chin and tipped up her face. Then he began to lower his head...just as the doorknob rattled. Someone was trying to get inside.

  * * *

  Déjà vu. Nikki wasn’t like her mother or half brother with all their premonitions and instincts. She hadn’t ever experienced any psychic phenomena until now. Now she had that weird sense of déjà vu. Walking inside the bride’s dressing room gave Nikki the exact same feeling she’d had walking inside her mom’s office just moments ago. And she murmured, “I keep interrupting.”

  Gage tensed, and his hand tightened around the weapon he’d drawn from beneath his tuxedo jacket before opening the door for her. “What did you interrupt? Are they making a move?”

  She suspected that Woodrow Lynch had been thinking about making one on Penny before Nikki had burst into the basement office. But Penny hadn’t been very happy with the man for drawing a gun on her only daughter. She’d been even unhappier with him when he’d agreed with Nikki’s plan to switch places with his daughter.

  If something happened to her, she doubted her mother would ever forgive the FBI chief. So she had to make sure nothing happened to her.

  She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “What do they want?” Megan asked.

  Nikki exchanged a glance with Gage. They were both pretty sure they wanted the bride. Even Woodrow and Penny had agreed about that.

  “It doesn’t matter what they want,” Gage said. “We’re not going to let them get it.” He held up his cell. “It’s completely dead now. Didn’t you find your mom’s jammer?”

  “It’s not hers.”

  He sucked in a breath.

  “Her landline was cut, too.”

  Still standing guard at the door, he opened it a crack and peeked out. “Where are all the guests?”

  “The wedding isn’t supposed to start until noon,” Megan said. “We have a half hour yet.”

  “People usually arrive a half hour early,” replied the daughter of the wedding planner. Nikki had grown up knowing about weddings—and never planning to have one herself.

  Even before she’d learned about her dad’s betrayal, she’d never wanted a husband of her own. She’d had enough males in her life with her overprotective brothers. Occasionally, she got lonely, though...

  Occasionally, she missed that kind of tension she’d felt in her mother’s office and when she’d walked into the bride’s dressing room. Then again, she wasn’t certain she’d ever felt that kind of tension herself.

  “Do you think they have someone posted outside the doors?” Gage asked. “Turning guests away?”

  “They’ve planned this out,” Nikki said. “So yeah, probably.”

  “Wouldn’t that draw suspicion?” Megan asked.

  “They’re probably telling everyone the wedding was canceled,” Nikki said. “And the guests who know about your past—” she jerked her thumb at Gage “—and his return from the dead probably wouldn’t question it.”

  “But how would those gunmen know about that—” her face reddened as Megan asked “—about us?”

  Unless...

  Maybe this siege on the church wasn’t about revenge on the bride’s father. Maybe it was about revenge on the bride’s ex-lover.

  Because it was clear that hurting Megan would hurt Gage. Nikki narrowed her eyes and studied Gage’s face. He was even tenser now than when he’d opened the door to her, his handsome features so tight his face looked like a granite mask—hard and sharp—like his green eyes.

  He’d obviously considered the same thing she had. And he didn’t like it.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Nikki told them both. “What matters is everyone getting out of here alive.”

  Gage looked at her then, his glance one of pity for her naïveté. She wasn’t so stupid that she hadn’t considered the other alternatives. She already knew there was a strong possibility that they wouldn’t survive.

  Then she would never experience that tension she’d felt in her mom’s office and in this room. But you couldn’t miss what you’d never had.

  She held up the one useful item she had retrieved from her mother’s office.

  Gage stared at the small tool. “What the hell is that?”

  “Crochet hook,” she replied. “This’ll get those buttons undone.”

  “That’s what your mom used to do it up,” Megan said. And she released a ragged breath, as if the dress was constricting her lungs. Maybe it was. It looked tight and heavy and uncomfortable as hell.

  Nikki couldn’t wait to get it on and put her plan into motion, even though it could quite possibly be the last thing she would ever do.


  * * *

  Megan jerked away as Nikki reached for her. Sure, she wanted out of that dress—so badly that she hadn’t even cared if Gage was the one to cut it off her. But it was different now, different since he’d nearly kissed her again.

  Wasn’t that what he’d been about to do before Nikki had started turning the doorknob? He’d been lowering his head, and his eyes had gone dark, the pupils dilating as he’d stared down at her. He’d looked like he’d wanted to kiss her, just like he’d looked that first day in her father’s kitchen.

  Now that all the old memories and feelings and longings washed over her, she couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stand to have him watch her get undressed and know that he wouldn’t touch her—wouldn’t kiss her.

  Not that she wanted him to.

  She didn’t want to put herself through all that pain again, no matter how much she probably deserved it. She’d hurt Gage. And now she was about to hurt another man, if he hadn’t already been harmed.

  “You said you’d check on Richard,” she reminded Gage.

  “I said that I couldn’t,” he corrected her.

  “Because you couldn’t leave me alone,” she said. “But I’m not alone.” Nikki had a gun. And Megan had the scissors. Gage had pressed them back into her hand before he’d drawn his gun and opened the door.

  Nikki nodded. “I’ll protect her and get her out of the dress,” she said. “You should check on the groom. We don’t know what the hell could have happened to him.”

  Megan’s stomach lurched, and a gasp slipped through her lips.

  And Gage’s jaw tightened. He thought she loved Richard. And she did—as a friend. Nothing more. But he was a friend and had been one for a long time. So she was worried about him.

  His blond head jerked in a sharp nod. “Sure, I’ll check on him.”

  “Gage...” She wanted to call him back, wanted to explain that she didn’t love her groom. She didn’t love anyone but Gage. She never had.

  But the door slammed behind him.

  Nikki jumped. “So much for not drawing any attention to himself.”

  It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d slammed the door or quietly slipped out. Gage Huxton was the kind of man who drew attention with his height and his handsomeness. He wasn’t like Megan, whom people rarely noticed.