Vanguard Security_A Military Bodyguard Romance

by S. J. Bishop

  My mind returned to the incredible opulence and refined taste of Carmichael Gardens, which I’d approached with much the same trepidation just over one week earlier. The contrast of the two buildings was not lost on me. Where the home was classy and elegant, this… compound… was flashy and downright gaudy. Parking at the service entrance as instructed, I started to wonder if Genovese was a Sultan rather than a Mafia boss.

  It didn’t take long to find out. He greeted me himself at the back foyer and directed me toward a row of servants’ elevators. He was rather short, much more so than I’d expect a man of his reputation and power to be. I took quick stock of the jet-black dye job in his combed-back hair, wondering how stiff it would be to the touch. As the doors closed, he assured me that this was a one-time occurrence, for safety. The doors opened, and I followed him down a long hall, the sound of his shoes on the hard flooring drawing my eyes. Heels.

  We stopped at a heavy-looking, thick wooden door at the end of the hallway, and I stood back as he typed a key code into the white panel on the wall. The doors swung open, and the smell of old books rushed at me. The only thing I could think as I turned to take in the 360ᴼ view was Batman’s Library.

  “Now, I’m sure we’re both very busy men, so let’s just cut to it.” Mr. Genovese waved me to a plush green chair off to the side. “My wife,” he stopped. “My wife is gone, and it’s all my fault.”

  Well, I didn’t expect that.

  “For years, I’d promised to get out. Years. But I couldn’t do it. And my poor Carlotta got tired of waiting. She was making arrangements behind my back, siphoning money…”

  I stopped listening. Did he kill his own wife?

  “They got to her,” he continued. “I was too blind to save her, but nothing will stop me from saving my little girl.” He pursed his lips tight as if trying to stop them from trembling. Dammit.

  “What exactly does this entail?” I got back to the mechanics of the job, allowing him to focus on the mundane and compose himself. A trick I’d learned with my dad in the last years of his life — when he’d not wanted to crack under the pressure of his illness, but had been trying to say his peace before the end.

  “Right. I had my lawyers draw up the contract, with a few addendums to cover my little Vanessa’s creativity.” He smiled in spite of the serious nature of our conversation. I just raised my eyebrows. “I fear you may have your work cut out for you if you accept the terms. My little princess has her own opinion on whether she needs a security team.”

  “I did three tours, Mr. Genovese.” My pride was getting the best of me there.

  “And that’s why I hired your firm. I need to know my baby is safe. If I’m to finish what my dear Carlotta started, we’re going to need it.”

  The sincerity in his words picked at my resolve. “I believe we can help you.” I nodded and offered my hand.

  “Brilliant. Just one last thing before we start.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a thin packet of papers. “In addition to the contracts your employer signed, I would like you to fill out these two forms.”

  He handed me a basic Non-Disclosure Agreement and a Morality Clause. Morality Clause? “I assure you, Mr. Genovese, the SEALs would have tossed me overboard a long time ago if I had no morals.”

  8

  Vanessa

  I punched the pass code into the lock on Daddy’s library door and waited, my arms folded across my chest and a scowl firmly on my face. The doors barely swung open, and I barged past them, a string of choice words on my lips.

  They didn’t come out.

  Daddy was at the corner of his desk, speaking softly to a mountain with short, black hair and the nicest ass I’d ever seen. I heard “…Morality Clause” in a deep voice that vibrated through me from across the room.

  Daddy startled and caught himself, then tapped the mountain’s arm. “Well, speak of the devil.” His smile widened as he hurried around the desk toward me, then dropped as he noticed my expression.

  Then the mountain turned toward me, and my resolve melted. He had bright green eyes, like something out of a cartoon, and his chest jutted out so far that when he turned to greet me, I wondered how many seconds it would reach me before the rest of him. My only thought was nice tits, and I felt my cheeks redden.

  “Ness, I’d like you to meet Mr., uh,” Daddy stalled, trying to read the paper in his hand.

  “Martin, ma’am.” The mountain’s low voice almost cracked. He looked nervous as he extended a tree trunk of an arm for me to shake. Interesting.

  Sensing the control I still had in the room, I didn’t take the offered hand. Instead, I cocked my head at Daddy. “Another babysitter? Isn’t Ms. Rizzo muscle enough?” My arms found their place back across my chest, slightly below my breasts this time. I gave them a cursory flex and watched Martin the Mountain blink away. So easy. Meat-head.

  Daddy was still talking, but I interrupted. “This is exactly why I came up here. I don’t need these goons following me around. I’m a grown woman. I’ve graduated, and after the ceremony, I can get the hell out of this cesspool city. You won’t have to worry.”

  He opened his mouth but closed it before speaking again. Martin interjected instead. “I believe, Ms. Genovese, that your father’s concern is warranted. The Amara family has ties well beyond D.C., which puts you in grave danger.” He puffed his chest and stood to his full mountainous height. “Without proper security measures, that is.”

  “And you think that’s you, of course? Never mind the past four companies who were hired and quickly fired for incompetence?” I moved closer, getting right in his face. Well, as close to it as I could. I felt the heat radiate from his body, smelled clean crisp aftershave. No fancy cologne for this guy, just the good ole smell of soap. It was a heady scent, to my surprise. I stood down off my heels.

  I saw him glance at my father, apparently unaware that he was fifth in line for the job. Still, he clenched that wide-set jaw of his and smiled. “I cannot attest for the previous firms, but VanGuard employs only the highest trained professionals. The majority of us are former SEALs. We’ve seen combat, war, and recon missions in the harshest environments. So, no offense, but one girl isn’t much of a job.” The smug macho grin bristled the hairs on the back of my neck. Girl!

  “We’ll see about that.” I glared at him. The smirk flickered for a moment, betraying a genuine smile and a flash of something in those emerald eyes. It quickly receded, and the arrogant posture returned. “Daddy, if you insist on forcing this Jolly Green Giant on me, then am I safe to assume that I’m allowed out of the dungeon now?”

  Daddy hemmed and hawed for a moment, but he knew I had him. I just stood firm, waiting. Finally, he agreed that I could go off the grounds, provided I didn’t try to lose my security team this time.

  “Wouldn’t it be better to find out now that I can lose them? Get it out of the way?” I asked.

  Martin snorted. “You can’t.” I cut a sharp look at him, fuming. He didn’t flinch. “Well, you can’t.”

  My glare turned to Daddy. “Shall I tell Ms. Rizzo that her services are no longer required?”

  “Yes, tell her that she’s free to stay as long as she likes, though. I’m sure she’s in no hurry to get back home.” Daddy and I both frowned. Ms. Rizzo’s son had moved back in, a wife and two kids in tow, so the poor woman hadn’t had a moment’s rest in nearly a year.

  “And I’d like you to have Mr. Sanders personally cut her a magnificent bouquet before she leaves.”

  With a sigh, Daddy asked, “What did you and Dirk fight about now?”

  “Nothing.” I kissed Daddy on the cheek and turned to leave. Then I turned back quickly, catching Martin’s gaze linger on my ass. Satisfied, I pointed to him. “You, Martin, should get ready. I have many errands to run after being cooped up in this place for a week.”

  “I’m always ready, Ms. Genovese.” He held eye contact with me, neither of us daring to break first.

  It was Daddy who forced a tie. “Ver
y well, then. If you’re going by the restaurant, I’ll have Ophelia gather your things.”

  “No, you will not!” I walked back to the door. “She’s not to touch any of my things. I will take care of it.” I saw the hurt on Daddy’s face. I softened my tone. “She doesn’t know where everything is, Daddy. I’ll do it myself.”

  Daddy turned to Martin and handed him a set of keys. “One master key for every room that isn’t pass-coded, and this one here for the Jag.” He grinned up at the Mountain. “In case she tries to give you the shake.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Genovese, but I don’t think that will be necessary. Your little princess and I will come to an understanding, I’m sure.” Martin flashed a smile at me that bore an uncanny resemblance to the Cheshire Cat. My breath caught in my chest. I’m in trouble.

  9

  Martin

  I let her walk all the way to what I guessed was her car, a brand-new Audi with the highest trim level. Marco’s little princess wasn’t so little after all. I’d barely kept my composure when she’d entered the room, figurative guns blazing.

  I said nothing. Until she reached for the door handle and it clicked without opening. Her purse strap fell down her arm and knocked her off balance. Holding my new set of keys in the air, I put on my most innocent smile and called to her, “I believe we’re taking this one.” With my head, I directed her attention to the Avalanche I had brought around front while I’d waited for her to get ready.

  “I don’t think so.” Vanessa snatched at the door handle again, to no avail. I clicked the fob in my hand.

  “It seems your father equipped me with your spare as well.” I couldn’t contain the near giddiness that I felt, and I’m sure she could see it from all the way across the yard.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” She didn’t budge.

  “No, ma’am. Boss’s orders.” With my other hand in my pocket, I pushed the button to unlock the Avalanche and grandly opened the passenger door for her. “Your carriage awaits, princess.”

  I saw her muttering something under her breath, but she did so while slowly crossing the circular driveway to the Avalanche. However, she didn’t come to the passenger side, where I still held the door. Instead, she marched defiantly to the driver’s side and climbed in. Considering it a win, I said nothing and climbed in.

  Now, this close to her, I couldn’t help but catch the flowery scent of her perfume filling the cab of my truck. I tried to distract myself by looking down, but that just brought me to her toned, tan leg, her muscle tense as she floored it.

  “This thing is a monstrosity. You’re lucky I haven’t been outside in a week.” The sound of her voice, even through this facade of anger, had a lyrical quality to it. I wondered if she sang but knew better than to say a word. Instead, I let her peel out of the driveway, narrowly missing the garish, iron gate that was slow to open.

  We rode in silence for a few minutes as I allowed her to familiarize herself with the controls of the large truck. I was sure she’d never driven anything like this before. She handled it masterfully, though. I caught myself being impressed and a little turned on at the way she kept her right hand resting on the gear shift. I absently watched her fingers curve around its head.

  “…all along, didn’t you?”

  I perked my head up in a ‘come again’ motion.

  “I said, you knew we’d be riding in the same car all along, didn’t you?” She’d caught me, but she didn’t look annoyed.

  “I would never separate myself from the target,” I recovered, scanning the perimeter.

  “First I’m a girl; now I’m a target.” She turned her head, and what had started out as a scowl turned to a smirk. “Demoted already?” Now, the cat-playing-with-her-food look was unmistakable.

  I opened my mouth to give her some witty retort when I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye, a black Cadillac with limo tint. I abandoned our game and hit the speaker button on the steering wheel.

  “Hey!” She jumped at my reach into her personal space.

  “Call Cruz,” I annunciated.

  “Calling Cruz on cell,” the car responded.

  “What’s going on?” Vanessa’s eyes darted around.

  “Sir?” Cruz picked up on the first ring.

  “Cruz, did you get the ID on that Caddy? It’s back.”

  “Not yet, Martin. Should be any minute now. Should we proceed with plan B?”

  “Affirmative.” I hit the ‘End Call’ button on the dashboard screen. “I need you to turn left on Madison.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “That’s in the wrong direction. What’s going on?”

  “A black car with dark, tinted windows is following us. I saw it on the way in, and it’s back.” I cleared my face of any expression. “We have it under control, but I need you to drive to the parking garage on Canal, by the convention center.”

  “Um… OK.” She bit her lip.

  “You’re doing fine,” I reassured her and saw the air go out of her. Not as tough as you look. “Have you seen the car before?”

  “No. But I was always trying to lose my dad’s goons—” She inhaled. “Sorry, I just…”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “I have to call the restaurant if we’re taking a detour.” Vanessa tried to keep the annoyed tone in her voice, but she was rattled. This was real for her now.

  “Sure.” I dialed the number she gave me. From the change in Vanessa’s voice and the way her fingers tightened around the gear shift, I assumed this was the Ophelia she didn’t like. She gave instructions for the woman to pack up specific things from her office, mostly personal items. I caught her emphasizing the words ‘my mother’s’ this or that and also assumed this Ophelia and ‘her father’ were the reason for her anger.

  Minutes later, we pulled into the parking garage, and I guided Vanessa to the empty space beside my Rover. Quickly, I grabbed our belongings from the backseat of the Avalanche and returned the keys to their hiding space under the wheel well. “Come on.” I hurried her along.

  “Great. From one gas guzzler to another. Haven’t you heard of MPGs?”

  “Yeah, Rhonda here thinks they’re delicious; now come on.”

  “Rhonda Rover?” She chuckled under her breath. “Of course.” She got her jibe in but didn’t protest getting into the truck, or moving to the passenger seat this time.

  As we pulled out of the parking lot, slowly as to not draw attention to ourselves, I petted the dashboard. “Don’t listen to her, baby. She’s just jealous.”

  10

  Vanessa

  Where are we going?” I asked after about an hour of driving in circles.

  “We’re in a holding pattern for now. Until we get word that the coast is clear.” Martin smiled at me, but I didn’t buy it.

  “The coast where?”

  “To be determined.”

  “Great.” It was difficult to have the utmost confidence in this new babysitter when he didn’t even know where we were going.

  “Everything will be fine… is fine. Honest.” Martin reached over to my side of the car and patted my hands, which I was wringing in my lap. “My team has worked numerous missions together. We don’t move until it’s absolutely safe.”

  Although I knew he was only holding my hand to reassure me, it didn’t feel like a fatherly gesture. Protective, yes, but more intimate. I looked over at him, taking in the strength that he exuded, and it did calm me.

  Martin caught me staring and quickly jerked his hand away. “Sorry, Ms. Genovese,” he stammered.

  “Please, just call me Vanessa.” I rubbed my hands together, feeling his warmth dissipate. I wanted to reach over and pull his hand back to me, but I resisted. The last thing I wanted was to look needy after all the fuss I’d made in the house. But seeing that car, being followed for real, I hadn’t expected it to be real.

  “No offense to you, but I feel more comfortable with Ms. Genovese.” Martin turned to me. “Why don’t you call your friend at the restaurant to
see if she has your things ready?” He was trying to distract me.

  “That woman is not my friend,” I snapped. “More like my father’s friend.”

  “Well, in any event, would you like to call her? Settle your affairs?” He picked up his phone to dial the number again.

  “Settle my affairs? Geez. What a bedside manner you have.” I didn’t want to talk to her, but I knew I had to, eventually. “Well, if we’re killing time, I do have somewhere I need to go. Somewhere nobody knows about, so it will be safe.”

  I gave Martin directions, and a few minutes later, we parked under my tree. He surveyed the wooded area leading to the river and then up and down the bank before unlocking the car. I immediately jumped out before he could change his mind. The fresh air filled my lungs, and I instantly relaxed. There was just something about this place.

  “What is this place?” Martin called from behind me as I jogged down the embankment, kicking off my sandals. At least I had the sense to wear normal shoes.

  “This,” I said, stopping almost knee deep in the warm stream, “is my secret hiding spot.”

  “It’s not very secret. There are multiple low cover entrance points and—”

  “Not a secret underground lair.” I laughed at his bravado. “Secret to me and my mom.” Mom. “Now just me.” I felt my chin quiver.

  I saw Martin notice the break in my resolve and hated myself for the weakness of it. He stepped into the water, dress shoes and all, and came to me. He got close enough for me to smell the clean crispness that had quickly become his signature, yet didn’t touch me at all. I was surprised by how much I wanted him to.

  “I’m honored that you chose to share it with me.” He sounded almost kind.

  The intimacy of the moment startled me back into my old self. “Not like I had a choice… babysitter.” I stomped off, a difficult task in knee-high water.