Her Secret Bodyguard

by Misha Crews

  She smiled lazily as she stretched out on the bed next to him, her thick terrycloth robe hiding parts that would have been marvelously distracting. Her damp hair was combed away from her face, which looked pure and untouched in the morning light. "Good morning yourself, gorgeous."

  "Did you drink your coffee?"

  "Coffee?" he perked up. "Where?"

  "I left if for you, right there."

  He turned his head to follow her gesture, and saw a small nightstand on which rested a thick white mug filled with dark brown liquid.

  "Hey, thanks. I can't believe I didn't realize that this was here." He propped himself on one elbow, reaching for the cup. At the first sip he felt his lethargy begin to lift, and he sighed.

  "Feeling better?" she teased.

  "I haven't felt this good in years. I'm like a new man."

  She nudged him with her toe. "Nothing wrong with the old one."

  "Well, thanks for that."

  "Anyway, lazybones, I have to go out." She sat up and raked her fingers through her hair. "I have an appointment – a lunch date, actually."

  "Oh? Should I be jealous?"

  "No need. It's my friend Mira."

  "But didn't you just – " He was about to ask if she hadn't just seen Mira yesterday, but he caught himself in time. He wasn't supposed to know about yesterday. "I mean, you can't just leave me here all by my lonesome, can you?"

  "Why not? Are you going to steal the silverware, or something?"

  "Never use it. I eat with my bare hands, like all real men."

  "That's not all you do with your bare hands."

  Warm memories of last night – and early this morning – washed over him. She didn't really think that he was going to let her leave this room untouched, did she?

  But she saw the look in his eye and hopped up from the bed, dancing away. "Not now, cowboy. I'm late already."

  "Late? I thought you said you were meeting for lunch. What time is it?"

  "Eleven-thirty."

  "What?" He dropped his empty coffee cup on the side table and sat up. "I haven't slept past seven since I don't know when!"

  Her eyes twinkled. "Well, don't be too hard on yourself, you had a rough night."

  "That's the kind of 'rough' I wouldn't mind having every night for the rest of my life." The words were out of his mouth before he realized their implication. He saw Blake flush with pleasure, then look away. He wondered if she liked the idea of spending more nights – all of them, in fact – with him, or if she was just flattered that it was being considered, even if it was in a roundabout way.

  When she met his gaze again she was still smiling. "Well, you sure know how to make a girl feel appreciated. But if I don't go now, I may miss seeing Mira, and then how will I brag about what a great lay you are?"

  "You're going to tell her about us? Are you sure that's okay?"

  "She's my best friend. She knows how to keep my secrets."

  Caleb remembered how close the two women had looked at lunch yesterday, and he figured that that was probably true. Besides, if Blake went to lunch with a friend it would leave him free to go see Steve. And the sooner he saw Steve, the sooner he could get back to Blake with a clear conscience. She'd be safe while he was gone; Caleb would verify that the secondary surveillance team was on her before he let her get far.

  "Well, I guess I have no choice but to let you go. But – " he lunged forward and grabbed the sash of her bathrobe. It fell open with satisfying ease. "You can wait another five minutes, can't you?"

  "Five minutes?" she laughed, coming willingly back to bed. "Buddy, you better make that at least fifteen!"

  Caleb wasn't sure how to broach things with Steve, but as it turned out it was easier than he thought. He stuck to his tried-and-true method of handling sticky situations: tell the truth, and do it fast. Of course, he hadn't exactly applied that philosophy to the sticky situation he'd gotten himself into with Blake, but he'd work that out later. Steve had to come first.

  "You were right, man," he said bluntly. "I'm way too close to this. And I like it that way."

  Steve leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I was afraid of that," he said. "So what do you want to do?"

  "Quit. Not quit her, but quit the job. I want to tell Blake everything. Then if she'll have me, I'll stay with her, protect her from right by her side, not behind some bush."

  "Do you think she'll be able to handle the truth when you finally give it to her?"

  "I think that girl could lasso the moon if she set her mind to it. Don't sweat that part. Just find someone else to put onto covert surveillance. I'll take the overt surveillance."

  Steve laughed. "Hasn't exactly been 'covert' for awhile, now has it?"

  "Not exactly, no." Caleb couldn't help but grin in response.

  Levity died out of Steve's face like the sun slipping behind a hill. His eyes sobered. "Problem is, we got some new intel this morning, and it's not good."

  Caleb sat up. "Tell me."

  "I'm afraid we've gotten word that Rube is moving his operation overseas, probably to Europe. He's cutting ties to all of his U.S. operations – and unfortunately, Blake is one of those ties."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm afraid there's no doubt about it, my friend. Her life is in danger." He turned to pick up a file from his back shelf. "I'm stepping up her security. I have a couple good men that I want you to meet, and then we can discuss telling Blake the truth. The way things are going it's probably a good idea. How do you think she'll take it when – "

  But by the time he turned around again, Caleb was already gone.

  Steve dropped the file on his desk, and stared out the window at the magnificent view for which he'd paid so dearly. "Good luck, buddy," he said softly. "Something tells me you're going to need it."

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Well, no wonder you look so mellow today," Mira drawled, stirring her lunchtime cocktail with a long index finger. "I guess there's something to be said for those corn-fed farm boys after all, now isn't there?"

  "I think it's safe to say that there is." Blake felt an idiotic smile spread over her face, and was well aware that it wasn't the first time today that she'd worn this particular love-stupid expression. She picked up her own Spicy Mango Martini and swirled it gently before tasting. Mmm – fiery and sweet. And not the only thing in her life that could be described that way.

  "Honey, I've known you for years, and I don't think I've ever seen you look so happy," Mira said.

  "I have to admit, I'm floating. It's all blue skies and rainbows, you know? Heady stuff."

  "Well, love does make the world go 'round." Mira licked the tip of her finger deliberately before taking a sip of her drink.

  Blake shook her head. "There's that word again! You're a little too fond of it, in my opinion."

  "Nobody around here wants your opinion, sweetie," Mira teased. "Especially not about the dreaded L-word."

  "Yes, well, 'lunch' is the only L-word I'm interested in at the moment," Blake said calmly, picking up her menu. "You already know what you want. What am I going to have?"

  They were sitting at one of the small two-person tables that lined the walls of Nobu Malibu's enclosed patio. Mira had been adamant about having lunch here, claiming that she was jonesing for their black cod with miso. Given the way gossip traveled on the LA grapevine, Blake felt a little nervous discussing her private life out in the open, but the gentle murmur of conversation from their fellow diners, along with the swish of traffic from Santa Monica Boulevard not far away, provided a satisfying buffer to their conversation. Besides, it was never easy to deny Mira anything that she wanted.

  Blake looked at her friend over the top of the menu. Cool as ever, Mira was serenely sipping her drink, looking as if there was nothing more important on her mind than what brand of gin they were using in the cocktails. She hadn't given Blake a clue as to why she'd asked to see her for lunch, and so far she was acting as if Blake's love life were the only interesting thing in
the world.

  The waiter arrived, interrupting Blake's reverie. She looked back at the menu and chose at random, settling on the Chilean sea bass with black bean sauce.

  "So, to what do I owe the great and rare pleasure of seeing you two days in a row?" Blake asked when the waiter departed.

  Mira was silent for a moment, then she blurted, "I think Rudolpho's going to propose!" and promptly burst into tears.

  So much for being cool and serene, Blake thought. She reached out and took Mira's hand, squeezing it. "And the thought is so appalling that it just makes you weep?" she asked gently, knowing the answer.

  "No, it's wonderful." Mira pulled a tissue from her purse and turned her head as she blew her nose. "It's better than wonderful! It's magnificent, perfect…and just plain terrible!" The tears started again, and Blake felt an answering sting in her own eyes, even as her mouth curved into a smile.

  "You love him very much, don't you?"

  "So, so much! But that's the problem. I mean, the blue skies and rainbows you were talking about? It can't possibly last. It's too good to last for a single year, let alone for the rest of our lives! So what's the point of even trying?"

  Blake looked at the younger woman and for the first time, she really felt the yawning gap in their ages. "The rest of our lives" has an entirely different sound at twenty-one than it does at…well, at Blake's slightly – ever so slightly – more mature age.

  She gave Mira's hand another squeeze and then sat back. "What makes you so sure he's going to propose, anyway?" she asked innocently, taking a swallow of her drink.

  Mira's tears dried instantly, as Blake had known they would. She gave Blake an incredulous look. "It's not like he's the first one to do it. I know the signs." Mira tossed her hair and straightened her shoulders in unconscious and completely justified arrogance, making Blake smother a grin.

  "And the signs are…?"

  Mira sighed. "Last night I mentioned that I'd invited you to come along to San Francisco with us, and right away he got all irritated. I mean, it's not the first time that I've invited girl friends to travel with us, and he's never minded before. But yesterday he said that he didn't want to 'worry' about anyone but me. I didn't like his use of that word 'worry,' and I let him know it. Then he got very romantic, and said he just wants me all to himself because he has something important to talk to me about."

  Blake considered. In the world of relationships, those words did usually mean either break-up or marriage proposal. And if Rudolpho was taking Mira on a romantic trip, it definitely didn't sound like there was a break-up in the offing.

  "And what do you think you'll say if he does pop the question?"

  "I have no idea." Mira bit her lip as it started to tremble. She sipped her drink to ward off another round of tears. "I'm crazy in love with this guy, but does that really mean it's time for marriage? Things are so perfect now, you know?"

  "My mother always said that no matter how perfect something seems, eventually flaws will start to show themselves," Blake told her. "I guess the question is, do you think that the two of you have what it takes to hang in there when the going starts to get rough?"

  Mira thought about that. "I don't have the answer for that right now. Maybe when he asks me – if he asks me – I'll know by then. What about you?"

  Blake crossed her arms in an involuntarily defensive pose. "What about me, what?"

  "What about you and Caleb? I know that you just met, but do you think you guys will be able to…make something of your relationship?"

  "I don't know. I mean, with Rube gone and Caleb here, my life has gotten complicated, to say the least. I don't even know if love can exist, much less survive, under these circumstances."

  The two women faced each other across the tiny table, sharply aware that their problems were as old as time, and as complex and delicate as the recipe for a spicy mango martini.

  "So," Mira said at length, "where does that leave us?"

  Blake gave a rueful smile. "In a tiny boat, floating on an enormous sea of uncertainty."

  "Well, at least we're in that boat together."

  Mira raised her glass half-heartedly, and Blake echoed the gesture. "You know it, babe. You know it."

  Their love lives may have been breaking strange new ground, but at least their lunch was predictably delicious. By the time they were finished they had each consumed several more cocktails, making Blake very glad that they had both decided to take taxies to the restaurant.

  Mira's cab arrived first, and she left with a promise to call soon. Blake watched her go, wishing that she could have confided more fully in her friend about everything that had happened over the past two weeks. Rube's departure on top of Caleb's arrival made life much more confusing – and scary – than she had dared to let on.

  Glancing at her watch, she decided that she had time to run to the restroom before her taxi arrived. As she was on her way back out the door, she ran right into a man who stepped out from around the corner.

  "Oh, excuse me," she said automatically. Then she looked up, and saw that the man was Greg Betch.

  "No," she said firmly, and started to turn away. The last time they talked, he'd scared her out of her wits without saying anything that could remotely be construed as helpful or real information. She had absolutely nothing to say to him.

  "Blake, wait." He grabbed her arm gently and she stopped, then turned to face him, not wanting to make a scene. "I'm sorry about what I said on the phone the other night," he said.

  She stood still, listening.

  "I was scared, nobody was talking to me, and the only way I could think to deal with that fear was to spread it around. Doesn't say a lot about me as a man, unfortunately, but at least it's the truth."

  "I appreciate your apology, but I don't have anything new to tell you. Yes, Rube's been gone for quite awhile. No, it's not the first time it's happened. Yes, when I hear anything, I'll call you, and aside from that – "

  "Your life's in danger," he said.

  Whatever other words she was going to say froze in her mouth. "What are you talking about?"

  He released her arm and leaned close. "I just got a call, doesn't matter from who. Word on the street is, Rube's taking his operation overseas, and you're not going with him. Neither am I."

  The full implication of his words took a moment to sink in. But when it did, the world swam. She reached a hand out and braced herself against the wall. This wasn't the time to fall apart. When she looked up into Greg's face, she saw anguish, betrayal, and knew she was looking into the mirror of her own emotions. She struggled to make sense of things. "But, that can't be right. How could he do that to me? To you? I mean, we're – "

  "Family. I know." He took her hands in both of his. "Blake, you have to tell me if you know anything – anything – about Rube's operation that might help me protect you. Has he ever mentioned any names to you, even any cities where he does business?"

  She shook her head, bewildered. "I thought you were the one who knew all that stuff."

  He laughed harshly. "I don't know as much about old Rube as I thought I did, that's for damn sure."

  "Neither do I, apparently," she said in a small voice.

  He looked down at her. "The one thing I regret, more than anything, is that you got mixed up in all this. You didn't deserve any of it. I've always – I've always liked you, Blake. I think I'd even put your life ahead of mine if it were necessary."

  "Oh, God, let's hope we never have the chance to put that to the test. And thank you, Greg," she added tearfully. "I guess I need to go home and make some hard decisions."

  "You need to get out of town, is what you need to do," Greg said harshly. "And I'm the one who's going to take you. Someone needs to look out for you."

  "Blake!" A familiar voice called from behind her. She turned and it was Caleb, brushing past the hostess, looking like a train bearing down on her. Relief flooded through her at the sight of him. She held out her hand, and he took it when he reached her s
ide, squeezing her palm between his two. "There you are. I tried to call you, but your phone must be off."

  In spite of everything, she felt a warm glow of pleasure at his presence. "What are you doing here?"

  "I missed you, sugar, and I thought maybe I could talk you into coming home early. Sorry to act like some lovesick calf, but – "

  "No don't be silly. I appreciate the sentiment." She turned. "Oh. Caleb, this is Greg. He's a friend of – of – well, he's a friend."

  Caleb stretched out his hand, and Greg took it automatically. "It's good to have friends. Sorry to barge in like this."

  "It's not a problem. Are you two…together?" Greg looked from Caleb to Blake and back again. His face had gone hard, rigid with concern.

  Blake met Caleb's eyes. Were they "together"? Did it even matter? Greg had just told her that Rube was trying to kill her. After all their years together, after the way he had saved her, after the way they had saved each other, Rube wanted her dead. So did anything matter anymore?

  "I have to get out of here," she said, in a voice choked with emotion. "Caleb, would you take me home?"

  "Sure." Without even asking what was wrong, he put an arm around her and started to escort her away. Good, trustworthy Caleb. Thank God he was here.

  But before they could leave, Greg grabbed her hand, leaned close and whispered, "Be careful."

  She nodded, squeezed his hand gratefully, then allowed herself to be escorted out the door, packed into the car, and driven away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "I can't believe this," Blake said again. She blinked back the tears that had formed at the corners of her eyes. "I knew that Rube was in a rough business, but I never would have thought that he would…." She trailed off, unwilling to give voice to the ugly thoughts floating in her mind.

  They were back at the Entwistle Ridge house. The shadows were growing long on the sharp-edged hills outside the windows, and the sky had started to lose its brilliance. Night was coming on, a little too quickly.