by Bella Grant
A phone rang somewhere in the house, and Naomi stopped what she was doing to reach into her back pocket, but the phone obviously wasn’t there. Cursing, she glanced up the stairs as the phone rang again.
“Shane, could you run and get that please? It’s probably in my office.”
Mockingly, Shane saluted her, then ran up the stairs to find the phone as it rang again. She glanced at Beau and smiled, leaning against the stove, and stirred what looked like a white pasta sauce. When she held out the spoon to him, Beau realized she wanted him to taste it. He sampled the sauce on spoon while she dug around for another. It was far better than anything he’d ever cooked, bursting with flavor and smooth all the way down. She watched him closely, and he cleared his throat, his face warming. What the hell was she doing to him?
“Good, huh? Old recipe I found when they brought me here.”
She hummed as she moved about the kitchen, finishing up the vegetable platters and cutting a loaf of bread. The sight of her having to use a cane to move even a little bit caused a clenching in Beau’s gut as his fists curled in anger. She was too young to be handicapped.
“How long have you been here?” he asked, trying to distract himself from his anger and her swaying hips, forcing his thoughts to focus on his mission and nothing else.
“Three weeks since I lost my home and was dragged to this safe house.”
“They said your other home was in the States.”
“Montana. Moved there from the UK when I was a teenager with my parents so my mom could be back where she came from. My dad was the Brit. Wanted to move back there eventually, but, well, funny how plans change.”
She picked up a basket of bread and tried to carry another platter at the same time but almost dropped them both because of her cane. Beau came around the counter quickly and took them from her. She grinned up at him sweetly, thanking him as he scowled at her.
“You shouldn’t try to do so much with that leg of yours,” he said shortly.
“And you shouldn’t order people around who aren’t under your command,” she snapped back, her smile faltering.
“You are under my command. I’m here to keep you safe.”
“From a shooter, not my own clumsiness.”
They stared each other down. Beau tried to see past the coldness in her eyes, but it was a solid wall. He cleared his throat as he tried to break away from her gaze. As cold as her eyes were, they mystified him, and he wondered what caused her to be like this. Running a hand through his hair, he told her he was going to check out the house and grounds to see how much work awaited him for security purposes. She nodded, and he backed away awkwardly, yelling at himself inside his head to get a grip and get on with the job. He was so lost in thought that he almost ran smack into a wall trying to navigate the stairs. It was then that he decided he needed a cold shower. He glanced back down at her and shook his head.
He needed a really cold shower.
Eddie frowned as Beau walked away, enjoying the view of his muscles underneath his tight, white t-shirt. He definitely looked like the picture in his file, if not better, even if his personality left something to be desired.
Typical, predatory, egotistical man with a gun.
The clock on the wall chimed two, and she hurried to finish lunch. Her boys needed food, and cooking was still one thing she could do famously after the accident gave her a bum leg. The more she thought about it, the more she realized no one bothered to look at her like Beau had since before the accident. He might not approve of how much she tried to do with a cane, but she had caught him staring at her curves.
Shane stalked back into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, which Eddie immediately yanked out of his hands, ignoring his protests.
“No booze until you tell me who called and why you look like you’re going to kill someone.”
“Who do you think called?”
Eddie handed Shane the beer as she removed the pasta sauce from the burner. “He’s worried already? The man just got here and thinks we’re all dead, is that it? I just talked to him, for God’s sake.”
“Basically, and nice touch with the accent.” Shane popped the top off his beer and took a long swig. “Oh, and he wants a report.”
“Every hour on the hour, like usual. I know.”
“Yeah, but this one’s different. Savage is one of his best men—can you blame him for being worried?”
“Guess not. Still think we’re doing this wrong, though. Savage should know what’s going on.”
“Not your call, Eddie, and not mine either.”
She tapped her fingers on the countertop, watching the stairs and wondering how much shit she’d bring down on herself if she just came clean with him. Her eyes slid to the man beside her, but he looked calm and collected, as always. She wanted to drill him about where he’d been the last two days, but now wasn’t the time or place to reveal her suspicions.
“You want to call the men in and let them know lunch is served?”
As soon as she was sure she was out of Shane’s sight, she sat down, grimacing at the pain in her left leg. Yesterday it started acting up, and the pain medication stopped working… again. She tried to massage the pain away quickly before the men came into the kitchen and yelled at her for working too hard, but there was nothing else to do for the moment. At the sound of voices, she stood quickly and beamed at the men as they came in the room, biting her tongue against the pain.
“What feast have you prepared for us today?” one of the men asked, giving her a one-armed hug and a wink, glancing with worry at her leg. They all did it, and in the beginning, it ticked her off. Now, she ignored it. She didn’t want their pity.
“Hopefully enough. You boys are going to eat me out of house and home soon, I swear,” she teased as they lined up to get their fill, thanking her nonstop. She hated keeping up the charade, but with Beau around, there wasn’t much of a choice. She wanted to ask them if there was any news, but she couldn’t. She was simply the helpless civilian, nothing more.
Ten minutes later, after listening to idle gossip and mindless chatter, all the men’s watches sounded, signaling the end of their lunch. Breaks like these were always nice for them to lean back and relax, even though each still carried a weapon at hand.
Beau had tried to take down the wrong man, and now he was at the top of every man’s hit-list. Part of her wished he’d come down. She was loathe to agree with the voice in her head telling her the guy was cute in a hard-ass kind of way, but she knew the rules, and no matter what, she couldn’t let emotions—lust or otherwise—get in the way. It could get them both killed.
After the men left, Eddie cleaned the dishes and prepared the vegetables for omelets and the scrambled egg stir fry for the next morning. She fixed lunch and breakfast, but they fended for themselves for dinner. The cell in her pocket rang, and she whipped it out, feeling better when she saw the number on the screen. Her best friend, also a spy, Jackie Laon, was calling.
Flipping open the phone, she spat out her old joke. “Sim’s mortuary: you kill’ em, we chill’ em.”
No one answered for a moment. Then a woman’s voice snapped, “I thought you only said that to people you didn’t want to talk to.”
“Yes, but you’re special.”
“’Cause you said that to me? I feel so special right now, let me tell you.”
“You’re the one getting married, woman. You should feel very special, especially with that rock sitting on your finger. So, to what do I owe this call?”
Jackie chuckled. “Oh, I just thought I’d let you know what color the bridesmaids’ dresses are going to be.”
Eddie stopped what she was doing. “Please tell me you didn’t pick that puke color.”
“Puke color? Hey now, I like that color, miss. It brought out your lovely, cold, green eyes.”
“It made me look like a hairball with green spots.” They laughed together before Eddie asked quietly, “Why did you say th
at about my eyes?”
Jackie sighed. “You know why. It’s been three years, Eddie—”
“So what color did you pick?” Eddie cut in, changing the subject as quickly as possible.
Her friend sighed loudly. “The sage green you liked. I’m not going to torture you that much.”
“Thanks, Jackie,” she replied, watching the shadows starting to form as the sun sank behind the wall.
“You’re welcome, big head,” Jackie teased, trying to lighten the conversation. Eddie smiled but only for a second because her friend asked another question. “Any leads on the other issue?”
“Not yet,” she whispered. “He was gone for two days. Not sure what he was up to.”
“We’ll keep an eye out on our end. Are you sure you want him there?”
“I’d rather be able to keep an eye on him, have him close in case it does turn out to be what I think it is.”
As she turned to put a dish on the counter, her left knee locked and she jerked, dropping the dish on the floor with a shattering crash. She grabbed her leg, trying to rub the pain away while holding the phone tightly with the other.
“What was that? Eddie, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, really. Just lost my grip on a dish. You know me and playing Betty Homemaker, always making messes.” When Jackie didn’t respond, Eddie bit her lip, knowing what was coming. “What?’
“You know damn well what. You told me you were getting better… Now, what happened?”
Before Eddie could begin to think up a good lie, the front door opened and she heard footsteps in the foyer. “I have to go, Jackie. I’ll call back when I get the chance,” she said quietly, hanging up before her friend could argue. She was still holding onto the counter tightly, rubbing her throbbing knee, when Beau walked into the room.
The look of concern—quickly replaced by annoyance—on his face told her exactly what was coming, and she gritted her teeth, face tightening. “Are you alright, Ms. Veri? I heard the crash outside,” he said, gripping her elbow to keep her from falling as he helped her to a chair.
“Just clumsy. I dropped a dish on the floor. I can clean it up if you give me a minute. I know how busy you are—” Her words failed when she tried to stand and pain shot up her leg, making her gasp and start to fall, but muscled arms caught her. Eddie pulled quickly out of his grasp, fighting the urge to flinch, and let him help her to chair. He scowled at her, but there was a question in his eyes. He’d noticed the flinching, and she cursed herself for it.
“You stay put. I can pick this up. What were you doing?”
“Trying to juggle dishes, what do you think? I told you… I’m clumsy and dropped a dish. Just leave it… Really, you’re not here to pick up after me.” He could tell she was lying, but she stared him down until he shrugged and cleaned up the dish. Once all the broken pieces were safely in the trash bin, he finished washing the rest of the dishes, leaving them to dry on the rack. Eddie stared at him in disbelief. “Wow.”
Beau frowned as he picked up her cane. “What?”
“I’ve just never known a man to do the dishes without being asked. It’s a miracle—apparently there’s still hope for the male species after all,” she teased and thanked him for her cane when he laid it on the table. He sat down across from her, and she could see the anger his eyes and the lines around his mouth as he stared at her leg. His deep brown eyes perfectly matched the dark hair falling across his forehead. “So, Navy, am I going to be safe tonight?”
Better question, is he going to be safe tonight?
“Of course you are. I’m here to keep you that way,” he replied, all male arrogance, watching her massage her knee the way the therapists showed her. But, of course, it never worked. After a few minutes of watching her wince, Beau shook his head at her. “Let me do that for you.”
Eddie focused hard on not flinching at his touch and braced herself for the pain she knew would come, but when his hands massaged her knee, the pain receded. Whatever he was doing worked, and she sighed, lounging back in her chair as Beau helped her muscles relax. The alarm on her watch going off made her groan in annoyance, and she quickly turned it off.
“What’s that for?” Beau asked, his lips twitching.
“My painkillers. I normally take them before bed, but with what you’re doing, I think I’m set for the night.”
His laugh was deep, and Eddie wanted to hear it again, surprised he could laugh at all. “I had an injury that tore up the muscles in my ankle once. Not as bad, of course, but I found this helps a lot.”
She turned away from him, thinking, An injury like mine, right… If only you knew what had actually happened. “Sorry to hear that,” she replied quietly as memories flooded her mind.
Beau stopped, offered her his hand to help her up, and his eyes were on the scars on her knee. He frowned, and she saw more questions form in his eyes. He shook his head and took her other hand. His eyes scanned the other scars on her wrists. Eddie bit her lip, praying he wouldn’t ask her what they were from. Thankfully, he didn’t, and she got to her feet with her cane in hand. He escorted her to the bottom step and gently touched her elbow.
“Can you make it up okay or do you need me to carry you?” The arrogant tone was back, but a sudden flare of heat in his eyes almost pulled a ‘yes’ out of her.
She bit back the word at the last second. Defiantly, Naomi walked up the first step. “I told you when you got here that you wouldn’t have to take care of me, Navy.” She turned around and slowly headed up the stairs, her cane clicking on each one. She felt his eyes on her the whole way, but it was the reminder of his hands on her skin that brought a smile to her face. She never would have expected that.
Maybe this man could do what no other could. Maybe he could find a way to bring her back to the woman she used to be. Or maybe they would drive each other crazy over the next few days, and she’d kick him out of her house.
Beau tried to keep his anger under control as the sight of her walking with a cane caused his jaw to clench. If he ever found out who did that to her, he’d guarantee they wouldn’t be able to walk, even with a cane.
Why do you care?
The voice whispered a valid point, and Beau shook his head to clear it. He was here to protect this woman, not get to know her. Or do anything else with her. It would’ve been better if she was an old woman. At least then he wouldn’t feel the urge to follow her upstairs and slant his lips hungrily over hers the next time she argued with him. None of that mattered. It couldn’t. Beau continued to mentally remind himself that no matter how attractive she was, he couldn’t get involved.
He just wondered how much longer he’d be able to keep everything under control.
CHAPTER FOUR
She sprinted down a never-ending hallway, knowing that the way out must be somewhere close. Footsteps pounded behind her, followed by frantic screams of ‘Catch her!’ But she couldn’t… She’d sworn to the others that she would find a way out and bring help. Up ahead, a steel door appeared out of the gloom, and she tried to run faster… She had almost reached it when explosions hit the walls around her. They were shooting at her, but she kept running. Her hand was just inches from the door when something hit her leg, but she didn’t stop until a second hit, the impact sending her sprawling to the floor. Her leg went numb as she tried desperately to crawl the rest of the way, but they were there, kicking her, beating her face, and then…
Eddie shot up from her sleep, gasping for breath and covered in an icy sweat. She untangled the sheet from her legs and tried to rub away the stabbing pain shooting up her leg. Once the pain receded enough that she could actually function, she ran her hands through her hair, holding back the tears that threatened to fall and the scream she wanted to release. Even after those men were killed, they still tortured her in her dreams.
The clock on her bedside table read four a.m. Gingerly, she climbed out of bed, padded quietly across the room to get her cane, and headed out th
e door. She crept down the hall, pausing at Beau’s door to see if he was awake. She didn’t hear a thing and continued to her office. The door creaked loudly, like always, when she opened it, and she flipped the switch on the wall. A lamp popped on at her desk, lighting up the pictures above and around it, but right now, she couldn’t look at the faces staring back at her. She was already having enough fun with memories.
Her laptop whirred when she turned it on, as if complaining that it was too early to function. After all, this was the fourth night in a row she woke up in this cold sweat and hating her mind all over again. The nightmares were getting worse. She was barely getting five hours of sleep a night.
The screen turned on, taking her directly to a log-in prompt, followed by a second and third one. She clicked through several documents before finding what she needed. Double-clicking on an icon of a small house, multiple screens came up of the house she was in now—blueprints and the outline of the grounds followed by several different surveillance camera feeds and security censors from the ones she’d put in. She flipped through each video feed, and once she saw nothing out of place, she checked all the motion sensors and the laser line surrounding the top of the wall. Everything seemed to be in order when a sensor started blinking frantically on the screen showing a layout of the upper floor. Beau had left his room.
Cursing, she quickly shut down the program and clicked the laptop closed. She turned off the light, hoping he hadn’t seen it yet, and waited impatiently for footsteps. When she heard none, she picked up her cane, locked her office door behind her, and snuck down the stairs into the kitchen. He must have stopped to check on her, which explains why it took so long for him to show. It was early, but not too early for a man of his career to be up.
Eddie’s bare feet found their way in the dim light of the house. If she stepped out front, she’d see the first rays of the sun poking over the trees, one of the few benefits of being stuck here.
She started the coffeemaker, and while she waited impatiently for the coffee to brew, she opened the back door and let the cool morning breeze blow across her face. She envisioned it blowing away her worries, taking them on the wind as she shut her eyes, enjoying its coolness. She tried to forget about the pain, but she couldn’t. After a few moments, she opened her eyes just in time to see the last bit of night sky disappear behind the wall as the sun rose.