The Bodyguard Contract

by Donna Young

  The baby rolled, causing her belly to wave mid-breath. She rubbed it softly—murmured loving, soothing promises.

  “Are you all right, ma petite?”

  Lara looked up from the window seat. Shantelle Laroche stood in the doorway of the sitting room. In the soft light of evening, most would take in the soft, delicate features, the mahogany hair and place Shantelle barely passed the age of forty.

  At fifty-five, she’d kept her figure trim, from long walks and a small appetite. And, Lara suspected, a long line of attentive lovers.

  It wasn’t a fussing comment, but one of concern. “I’m fine, Mama.” Her mother didn’t fuss. “Your grandchild is restless.”

  “Maybe my grandbaby knows she will meet her papa today.”

  Lara’s head shot up, her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Her mother tsked, pleased. “Just the mention of him puts color in your cheeks. That’s the way love should be.” Shantelle’s lips curved. “I came in to tell you, you have a visitor. A handsome visitor.” A delicate eyebrow arched. “My future son-in-law maybe, yes?”

  “Nothing maybe about it,” came the impatient masculine reply.

  Ian strolled into the room, his laser-blue eyes pinned Lara to her seat, daring her to move.

  “Madam, I believe your maid has fainted. It seems my unwillingness to stay in the parlor frightened her.”

  “Ian?”

  Shantelle’s smile increased over her daughter’s confusion. Unable to resist, she grabbed Ian’s hand and squeezed, drawing his attention. “It’s Maria’s temperament, not your fierceness, I’m sorry to say. The poor girl faints every time she sees a spider. I must go make sure she is fine.” Shantelle started to leave, then turned back. “There is a lock on the door, Monsieur MacAlister. May I suggest you use it?”

  “Mama!”

  Shantelle took a long, lingering glance at her daughter. They’d had only a few months together, such a short moment. But now, it was time to share her. “Yes, I am your mama. But I am still French. And so is your temper, ma petite.”

  “Thank you, madam,” Ian said with a slow sexy wink.

  Shantelle’s breath caught. Oh yes, she would have fine grandchildren. And many, too.

  Happiness filled her. Shantelle planned on being a better grandmère than a mother. Although, she thought, slipping out of the room, her maternal instincts had definitely improved in the last few months.

  Ian closed the door, snapped the lock in place.

  “Really, Ian, I’m seven months pregnant. If I run anywhere, it’s going to be to the bathroom.”

  “That’s not the reason I locked the door,” he said quietly, his eyes drinking her features from across the room.

  Clumsily, Lara stood. Sunbeams shot through the thin gossamer sundress, outlining her supple, rounded body underneath. Her hair was down, longer now. Her features softer with pregnancy pounds.

  An ache squeezed the breath from his chest. “I should have done this the first time I met you,” he stated, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  “What? Locked me in a room?”

  “No. Gotten you pregnant.”

  He heard her breath catch, and love shimmered under his heart.

  Slowly, Ian crossed to her, stopping mere inches from the window seat. He fisted his hands, not ready to touch her. Knowing if he did, the explanations wouldn’t come until much later. Explanations that needed to be made now.

  “I think once we work out our differences and get married, I’m going to keep you pregnant.” His gaze caressed her form, pausing slightly on her stomach, before continuing down to her uncovered feet.

  The blue of his eyes flared. “And barefooted.”

  Lara’s toes curled into the Persian rug.

  “If you’re trying to win me with your Neanderthal ideas, it isn’t working,” she taunted, more than a little breathless. He could see it in her eyes, the flash of awareness, the same longing he’d suffered through for the last several months.

  “Liar.” He drew the word out, in a long, soft caress.

  Lara shivered, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to reach for her.

  “I’ve already won you, Red,” Ian murmured. “You’ve already admitted you love me.”

  “I can love you and still not like you.”

  Ian smirked, but continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If you’re nice, after we’re married, I’ll let you help me run MacAlister Whiskey—although I don’t think it will be enough. Whether we like it or not, you’re high energy, Red.” Ian saw her mouth tremble. “We’re definitely going to need a lot of children to keep you busy. And maybe a dog or two.”

  She tried to step back, stopped when her knees hit the window seat. “Not funny—”

  “Did I tell you, we’re going to grow old together?” He moved closer, stalking her. “Watch our grandchildren play? Hold each other’s hands while taking in a sunset or two?”

  Lara would have taken a deep breath, worked the knot from her chest, if only he hadn’t locked gazes.

  His features had roughened, the lines of his face had sharpened, his mouth hardened. A few days of whiskers did nothing to soften the harsh angles. But his eyes did. Glittering in the blue depths was a promise of something. She wasn’t sure what, but it got her pulse pounding, her heart wishing she believed in fairy tales.

  “Stop it, Ian.” She put her hand to his chest, out of self-preservation. He was seducing her with dreams. And damn it, it was working.

  “You lied to me. First about my father. Then when you called in Cain and Jordan.” The fact Lara had understood and gotten over it, didn’t stop her from throwing the accusation out there. If he wasn’t going to give her a chance, she was going to fight dirty going down. “And Quamar.”

  “You ran from me. We’re even.” He trailed a finger over her hand, down to the hollow of her elbow, paused, then retraced his path.

  “I didn’t run,” Lara argued, tried not to close her eyes, lose herself in his touch. “People knew where I was.”

  “My whole family it seemed. My sister especially. She and Roman have decided we’re going to be godparents for their baby girl. Already, little Kyla is showing signs of being a daredevil.”

  She grasped his wrist to stop the movement of his fingers. “She’s only a few weeks old.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We Scots know these things,” he said with arrogance. “Kate says that Kyla is going to need a butt-kicking godmother to keep her out of trouble.”

  A godmother. Before she could stop it, the tears burned her throat. “Kate and I have become close—the whole pregnancy thing. I needed advice,” Lara whispered huskily. Then her chin shot out, Irish stubborn. “I love your family, Ian, and I won’t apologize for it.”

  “They love you, too. And I don’t expect an apology. Maybe a really nice thank-you—later.” Ian tugged his hand free, then touched his finger to her lips, traced the curve until it quivered. “But remember you loved me first.”

  “Conceited,” she retorted, but with no power behind her words. Instead, she nipped the end of his finger. Watched his eyes flare with awareness.

  “Why did you leave me, Lara?” He cupped the curve of her cheek, but his gaze remained on her mouth.

  “I had no choice.” Her tongue slipped out, moistened her lips. “Everything happened so fast.”

  Ian saw her tongue, trembled with need. “But it was over. I’d gotten the whole thing on camera. Novak admitting his guilt. The poker game. All of it recorded through my tie clip. After we retrieved the right Bible from Father Xavier’s hotel room, I handed it all over to Cain.”

  She closed her eyes, lost herself in the touch of his palm. The calloused skin sent goose bumps running down the base of her neck. “I needed to figure out who I was. It’s trite, but it was true. I couldn’t do that with you around. You, you—” Confuse me, she wanted to say. Instead, she said, “You told me no more. You were done.”

  “I was. No more Labyrinth. No more operations. No
more lies.”

  “You lied,” she said, jerking her head up, unable to keep the hurt from her words. “I understand you were doing your duty, Ian, but we were partners—”

  “No, Lara, being partners is a business arrangement,” he corrected. “When I brought Cain in, it wasn’t business, it was personal. You were in danger.”

  “I see.” But she didn’t. She’d decided long ago to forgive him because he’d made the call, done his duty. Now the resentment poured back in, opening old wounds.

  “I wasn’t going to lose you. Bottom line. I had to do whatever it took to keep you safe.”

  “Me?” She wrenched away, angry with herself, angrier with him. “You risked all those people’s lives to save mine? Do you realize what could’ve happened?”

  “Do you realize what did happen?” Ian responded, then snatched her back. “I walked away from you, and almost lost you and the baby because of it.” Ian took a deep shuddered breath, tipped his forehead to hers. “I’ve spent most of my life saving people. I’ve seen enough violence, enough death to last a hundred lifetimes. I’ve taken it all on the chin and gone back for more. Why? Because of duty. But in that moment, with you on the floor, me helpless to save you, my heart stopped. I’ve relived the picture of you, bloody, pale—dying—a million times.”

  “You stopped Novak. You did what you had to do.”

  “I didn’t care about Novak, don’t you see?” Ian pulled back until his eyes found hers. “If you know anything about me, sweetheart, you have to know family is everything to me. And you’re my family. You always have been. Since the first moment I saw you across that dance floor. I just didn’t put the feelings into thoughts until recently.” He tipped her chin up, caught a stray tear with his thumb. “Why do you think I resigned from the Navy to join Labyrinth? I didn’t need to prove anything. With Kate and Cain, I wanted to be there,” Ian explained. “When you joined, I had to be there.”

  “How about before? When my father almost died?”

  “When you grieved, it ripped a mile-wide hole in my chest. But even then, I wouldn’t change what I did,” he pointed out. “Remember over a year ago, when Roman and Kate were on the run from that sadistic arms dealer? He almost killed them. Cain and I thought we’d lost them. But even then, even the possibility of losing Kate, didn’t compare to almost losing you—” Ian took a deep breath. “I knew what you were going through. You were angry, out of your mind with grief and revenge. Do you think that would’ve changed, knowing Jon wasn’t dead? You would’ve still gone after the killer. I couldn’t let you.”

  He was right. Like Sophia, Lara had only one thought. To strike back.

  “If something had happened to you…” Ian stopped, his jaw flexed.

  “Promise me, Ian. That you’ll never lie to me again. Even if I won’t like the truth.”

  “I already promised you, Red. When I left you in that room, gut shot and bleeding to death. You. Not you and the baby. Just you,” he said.

  “Are you saying, you don’t care—”

  “I love our baby, but my world is you,” he interrupted. “It will always be you. That’s why I let you make the call that day. And why I went after Novak. If that isn’t love I don’t know what is.”

  “Ian, I’m sorry.” She shook her head, not knowing what else to say. Not knowing if she would have been strong enough to do the same—leave him lying on the floor dying.

  “Good. Then it won’t happen again, right?”

  A smile curved her lips. “If you hadn’t heard, I quit Labyrinth.”

  “I heard. But somehow, trouble gravitates toward you,” Ian observed. His hands slid over the round curve of her butt, before continuing to the base of her spine. Slowly, he massaged the muscles beneath. “That’s why I quit, too. If nothing else, just to keep an eye on you.”

  Lara sank into him with a sigh. “You quit?”

  “Three months ago.”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “I told you, I’m taking over the whiskey side of MacAlister Industries. With Cain being Labyrinth’s director and Kate and Roman no longer active, I was the only one left of the family doing fieldwork.”

  “But Cain—”

  “It will be fine. Labyrinth’s got new blood coming in.”

  “No more operations? No more bad guys?”

  “Scared?” Ian teased. “A normal life can be pretty intimidating. But if the whiskey business doesn’t thrill you, Red, you can think about becoming an instructor. Lord knows, Cain’s going to need them.”

  “What about Celeste?”

  Ian grinned. “We’re guessing twins. They just found out and Cain is beside himself. It’s almost unnatural. One moment he’s grinning like a lunatic, the next he’s frowning because he thinks Celeste is too small to carry two babies.” Ian gave an exaggerated shiver. “He’s spooking Celeste. She says you’d better come home soon, because she needs lots of advice from you and Kate.”

  “Twins?” Lara slid her hands over his chest, slipped the tips of her fingers into the V-neck of his sweater, needing the contact of his skin against hers. “Do they run in your family?”

  “Looks like it.” Ian’s hand found hers, held it in place. “Why? Do you want a set of your own?” he murmured.

  “Maybe,” she whispered. “I love being pregnant, Ian, but I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

  Ian nuzzled her temple, then kissed it. “Me, neither.”

  “Funny, I never thought Celeste would give up profiling.”

  “She’s not.” Ian slid onto the window seat, brought Lara down into his lap. “She’ll have plenty of help. That’s the beauty of family. You really don’t have to give up anything.”

  “Really?”

  “Except privacy.” Ian’s brows knitted into a frown. “Even long distance, a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t gotten advice from my parents or Cain or Kate or your father.”

  “My father?”

  “Believe it or not, he’s the worst,” Ian announced. “Once we’re home, you’re answering all the phone calls to the house.”

  Home. It sounded so wonderful. “Ian, how come you took so long? To come here I mean. I didn’t really hide where I was going. And with your skill for—”

  “Hunting?” Ian shifted Lara until she faced him, straddling his hips, her belly settled comfortably against his hard stomach.

  “Sweetheart, I haven’t been anywhere else. I was on your Air France flight out here.” One hand supported her back, while the other trailed up over her knee, catching the hem of her dress. “I just made sure you didn’t see me.”

  Ian laughed at her stunned expression. “I promised your dad, I’d give you time.” Later Ian would tell her of the three-hour lecture, the threats. And after, how he agreed to leave Lara alone in order to get Jon Mercer’s blessing.

  “I took a summerhouse, not far from here.” His fingers skimmed the line of her knee, the warm curve of her thigh, catching the cotton and nudging it aside to stroke the sensitive underside of her leg.

  Lara’s limbs tightened reflexively against his, causing him to swell uncomfortably against his zipper. “You’ve been following me?”

  Impatient to finish, to feel her legs around him, her body naked against him, Ian confessed. “Hell yes. Waiting until you were ready. Then yesterday in the garden, I saw you laughing. The baby must have moved because you held your stomach. And I knew it was time.”

  She nodded, remembering. “He did move.”

  “He?”

  “I think so, but Mama insists it’s a girl. But he’s so active.” Ian’s hand slid under her dress, over her belly. “I was all wrong about Mama. She’d made the wrong choices, let her family dictate her life. After she was forced to give me up, she eventually walked away from them all.” Lara plucked at his shirt, embarrassed by her own shortsightedness. “She’s wonderful, Ian. Intelligent, strong.”

  “No surprise there. You’re her daughter.” Ian trailed his lips across her cheek, tasted the corner of her mo
uth. “I also happen to agree with her about the baby.”

  Lara gave his hair a sharp tug and he chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, I want boys, too. Lots of them. But a little girl like you would be the perfect—”

  “Butt kicker?”

  Ian kissed her nose. “No, the perfect miracle.”

  Lara found Ian’s hand beneath her dress and moved it over to her side.

  When the baby bumped his palm, the muscle in his jaw flexed. “God, you’re amazing.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured, more than willing to take the credit for the moment.

  “So what about it?” he asked, his voice soaked with emotion. “Are you ready to come home, Red?”

  “No.”

  When his eyes snapped to hers, she let the humor show through. “Not until you tell me the reason.”

  “I love you. And if that’s not reason enough,” Ian said, “I watched you get shot, I spent a month of quarantine with Quamar and Jordan—which was no picnic. Do you realize the more bored and short-tempered they got, the heavier their accents became? They gave me a headache.”

  “Quamar?” Lara loved Quamar, had seen him only a week past. The giant stopped by to check on her before heading home to the desert and to his people. “He’s never short-tempered.” But there was a sadness lurking behind the soft brown of his eyes. When she’d questioned him, he hugged her. Told her to trust her instincts, trust Ian. And they would be happy.

  But Quamar never answered her question.

  “Believe me, Quamar is not easy to deal with when he’s been cooped up behind walls,” Ian retorted. “Then I spent another four months listening to your father’s advice on marriage.”

  Ian let out a long exaggerated sigh. “I know you love him, honey, but—”

  “Marriage? I thought he was giving you advice on children.”

  “No, I figure that advice will come after the baby and won’t stop until we’re done with our first half dozen.”

  “A half dozen?” Lara gasped.

  “Maybe more.” Ian winked. “Right now he’s trying to work up the nerve to ask your mother to marry him. Somehow I think he’s channeling that fear by telling me how to be a good husband.”