“Jackie Wilson, my father’s favorite.” So what if he didn’t like what he saw. She didn’t ask him to come up to her room. In fact, she didn’t care at all—or so she told herself, but she did care, no matter how much she lied to herself. Why had his opinion become so important to her? Why did she even care?
He had no words, just thoughts; thoughts about what he wanted to do to her. He approached, snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her close. He didn’t ask her to dance he just started moving. She moved in sync, her arm draped over his shoulder as he held her tight. He could feel her slow, rhythmic breath as her chest rose and fell against him. She Saints and Sinners 92
seemed to melt into his embrace, or maybe he just needed to believe that was what had happened.
It wasn’t until he felt the subtle involuntary thrust of her pelvic against him that he knew she wanted him too—if not emotionally, sexually, and for now he would take it—for now, because he was determined to find a way into her heart one day. He was determined to make sure she wanted more of him, more from him, than just sex.
His hand moved lower down her back until his fingertips felt the apex of her behind beneath them. She inhaled sharply and pressed even more against him. Her fingers clutched his back and he knew she was aroused—more aroused than he had expected. He eased his grip just enough to look at her. When her eyes slowly connected with his all he could see was desire. He wanted a taste of her, but he waited for her to make the move. The last thing he needed to do was scare her back into her shell.
He didn’t have to wait long before he felt her rise on tip toe and lean her lips toward his. He was close, so close, yet he waited. He would let her initiate the kiss before taking over. She seemed hesitant, wanting yet skittish, but he knew, he knew she would follow through. He let his fingertips travel to the curve in her butt, right where thigh and buttock met, and he caressed ever so gently. Another shallow thrust stroked against his body as her hand caressed the back of his neck. Tiny fingers edged him closer and he followed, brining their lips mere centimeters apart before the sound of glass breaking came from below.
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She jumped. “What was that?”
He pulled the gun from the waistband of his pants, guided her to a corner behind the dresser and said, “wait here.” She nodded. The desire in her eyes was gone and now there was only fear.
Alaina’s house offered only one way up from the inside, but two from the outside since her bedroom had French doors leading to the wrap around balcony. He cursed the vulnerability, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
He had a clear shot of the bastard. He could take it now, or wait to see how many of them there were. He was sure there was more than one because whoever wanted Alaina had to know a skilled man had been assigned to protect her; unless they underestimated him, but even then there would be at least three. He decided he’d take the chance of alerting any others and he took the shot. Clean and easy, just the way he liked it.
He eased down the stairs. He had spent some time familiarizing himself with the layout of Alaina’s house, and while it wasn’t the ideal security situation, there were several spots he could use to his advantage.
His eyes focused around the dimly lit rooms, trying to find bastard number two. He rounded the corner to the kitchen where he found the second bastard barely concealed along the side of the refrigerator. He could see enough of the reflection in the glass to tell this one had a gun equipped with a night scope. They obviously planned on neutralizing any obstacle that arose, human or otherwise.
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He eased back from the kitchen and circled around until he reached the opening on the second wall. His new position gave him a clean shot of the enemy and he took it.
“Two down,” he mumbled. Now all he needed was to get the third bastard, secure the house and get Alaina to safer ground.
He heard glass shatter upstairs. There were only two rooms on the second floor; master bed and bath and he had no doubt as to which the sound had come from. He sprinted toward the stairs. He needed to stop him before he found Alaina; before he could take her.
Sully reached the top step, sprinted down the hall and into Alaina’s bedroom.
“Would have loved to sample the goods,” he heard the bastard say as he aimed the gun at Alaina.
Without hesitation Sully put one round into the enemy’s head and watched him fall dead to the floor.
Sully walked over to the dresser. “Come on out.”
“I…can’t breathe,” she clutched her chest.
He mumbled a curse as he squeezed behind the dresser, trying to get his big body in the tight space. She was having a panic attack. He understood her fear; staring at the barrel of a gun aimed point blank at her head was reason for fear.
“It’s okay; he’s dead.” He took hold of her arms and pulled her out past the dead body. “Just don’t look,” he said as he guided her down the stairs, past another body and into the sitting area. Tears streamed down her Capri Montgomery 95
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cheeks. She wasn’t crying hysterically because of what just happened; she was crying because she wasn’t getting enough air.
“You’re safe now.” He spoke softly, comforting her with his words. Soon he saw her breathing patterns near normal. She nodded to him, perhaps letting him know he could do what he needed to do now. He needed to call it in, not only to his C.O., but to the local authorities as well.
Alaina sat on the white seating ottoman, knees pulled in close to her chest and her head resting atop them. Sully placed his hand on her shoulder and she lifted her head. The tears were gone now, but her eyes were still glossy as if she could cry any moment. She was holding back.
He figured she had learned how to do that years ago.
“He was going to kill me. If they wanted me dead why didn’t they do it in Central America?”
He had been asking himself the same question. When he saw that man ready to take the kill shot he knew the rules of the game had changed.
They couldn’t ransom a dead hostage, which meant this had nothing to do with being a political pawn. His mission had shifted abruptly from keeping her free to keeping her alive.
“We have to leave here. A safe house has already been arranged.”
“I’m going to die,” she said absently, as if she hadn’t heard his words.
“Don’t give up on me.”
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“I guess I’ve been living on borrowed time. I should have gone with my dad.”
He placed two fingers on her chin and knelt before her in order to be sure their eyes met. “You’re not living on borrowed time and you’re not going to die. I won’t let you die.”
“I’m sorry;” she shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I guess I’m just freaked out. I keep coming close to death and it’s scary.”
“Your father,” he noted because she would have been in the car then.
“And Troy. I was supposed to be with him that night. He had to stop to pick up a package from a source and then we were going to do dinner. But I had a deadline for an exhibit so I asked him to just come back for me. If I had gone with him…”
“You’d be dead too.”
“Maybe I’m jinxed. You should run for the hills now.”
“Anybody wants to get to you they’ll have to go through me first.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, Sully. You have—”
“You don’t protect me. I protect you; got it?” She was trying to keep him safe. He didn’t need her to.
“Got it.” She hesitated before continuing. “It’s just that I was that little girl once and I know how devastating it can be to—” He held up his hand. “This is my job, my duty, my career. I’ve learned a lot about keeping myself alive. Don’t worry.” He knew death was always a possibility and he had made the necessary arrangements for Capri Montgomery 97
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Teagan’s well being long ago. Money wouldn’t make up for the loss of her father; he knew that, but he also knew one day she’d understand.
“My stomach feels all twisted up,” She said.
He understood. Stress, fear, seeing the dead bodies in her house, all of it had registered with her, and now that she had time to let it sink in it was impacting her physically.
“Thank you, Sully, for saving my life—again.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he mumbled. “We’re not free and clear yet.” He pushed her hair back from her face. “I have a lot of questions,” he stated.
“I don’t have any answers,” she replied. “I don’t know what’s going on, or why. I’m so scared, Sully.”
“I know,” he pulled her into his arms. “Trust me to keep you safe,” he whispered. He didn’t need her to worry, although he knew she would.
He needed her to keep a clear head, to be ready to flee at the first sign of danger, just as he would be ready.
“I trust you.” She tightened her grip on him, hugging him closer, harder than before. She was going to be okay, he knew it.
“We need to get a few of your things together,” he pulled her to her feet. “We can’t stay here much longer.” Leaving was their only option.
The sooner he got on the road, the more at ease he’d feel that there wasn’t a second team of assassins waiting to follow them to the safe house.
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Chapter Eight
Alaina stood in the small sitting room, suddenly feeling more suffocated by the rustic décor than relaxed. Her mother had left her campaign planning to check on her only daughter—at least that’s what she wanted the appearance to be anyway. Alaina knew differently, not because it was what she expected of her mother, but because her mother’s first words were about Alaina hitting the campaign trail with her. Any other mother would have inquired of their daughter’s safety first...or at least the emotional state of their child. Not her mother. Her mother was only interested in what Alaina could do for her campaign.
“I told you once before I’m not campaigning for you.” She wasn’t even going to vote for her. In fact, she would be more willing to campaign for the opponent, even though she had no interest in politics, had never voted before in her life, and wasn’t even a registered voter—at least not Capri Montgomery 99
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that she knew of anyway. Her mother was sneaky and underhanded; Alaina wouldn’t put anything past her mother’s capabilities.
Knowing the conversation could turn ugly fast, she decided to quickly change the subject. Normally she wouldn’t care, but this wasn’t normal. Sully sat on the edge of the sofa arm, within full view, and audible range, of their argument. She knew the names her mother could call her and she didn’t want Sully to hear them.
“Don’t change the subject. After all I’ve done for you.”
“Ha,” Alaina let out that one response before she had a chance to stop herself.
“You’re so ungrateful. Just like your father, the pathetic man that he was.”
“Don’t talk about my dad.” Alaina felt heat rising in her cheeks.
“He was a good man. As far as I can tell the only mistake he made was marrying you.” Her father had been so unhappy and she knew that. He loved her. He stayed for her. At that moment she remembered what he said to her the morning before he died. “Things are going to change,” he had said. “We’re both going to be happy.” It didn’t make sense then, but it did now. It was as if one giant light blub had gone on in her head and the clarity, oh the clarity, was so bright it was almost blinding.
“He was going to leave you.”
“Shut up!”
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“He told me we were going to be happy and now I understand what he meant. He was going to leave you and he was going to take me with him.”
“You stupid cow! You should have died in that car with him.” Alaina had always known her mother felt that way, but she had never heard her utter the words…until now. “There’s the door,” she pointed. “Don’t let it hit you where the good lord split you on your way out.” She turned; she was ready to walk away before words escalated anymore than they already had.
She felt firm hands grip her arms followed by a hard shove before falling into the wall table; knocking it and the glass vase atop it, over as she fell.
“Hey!” Sully stood.
“This is a personal matter; it doesn’t concern you.”
“I’m assigned to protect her, lady; even if that protection needs to be from you.”
“I could have your job.”
“I don’t give a damn,” he stated calmly.
“It’s okay, Sully. Ms. James was just leaving.” Alaina hated her more now than she ever thought could be possible. She hated sharing her last name. She hated having her blood flowing through her veins.
“This isn’t over.”
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can assure you if you mess with this man’s career I’ll start with Larry King Live and hit every other news program, talk show, paper and anything else that will hear my story of Elizabeth James. Trust me; Mother of the Year isn’t exactly the award you’re going to be up for.” Elizabeth uttered several curses before letting herself out. Sully locked the door behind her while Alaina bent down to pick up the broken pieces of glass from the shattered vase.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” she refused to turn to look at him. She was so embarrassed, and hurt, and lost. She had no one and that realization alone made her heart break even more. It wasn’t as if she ever felt a connection to her mother, or even thought that she would. But until now, until that moment she never thought about her reality. The reality was she never had a mother; she never would have a mother and without her father she never would have a family.
Alaina sat the shards of glass on the coffee table so she could pick up the knocked over wall table. She needed the broom and a vacuum to pick up the little pieces, a garbage bag for the big pieces, and a quiet place alone where she could try to pick up the pieces of her life.
Sully obviously had different plans. He pulled her into his arms and held her so tenderly, so possessively that she broke. Tears poured from her eyes as the anguish escaped her in a violent cry. He didn’t try to quiet her. He didn’t tell her it would all be okay. He simply held her, Saints and Sinners 102
encased her in his masculine arms; held her pressed against his firm chest; supported her with a single lazy stroke of his hand through her hair.
She felt weak, vulnerable, and she hated it. She hated needing to be held, to be touched, to be loved; but she did need it, all of it and that need wouldn’t let her pull away. “Oh God,” she sobbed. “Why does it hurt so much?” It hurt more than it should. She had suppressed the pain for so long that she had forgotten; forgotten what it felt like to feel this pain cutting to the core of her soul.
“Because you’re human,” he said before lifting her in his arms.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and allowed herself to be cradled.
Something had changed between them. She didn’t know when, but it had. He was nicer. And the other night…the night she had nearly kissed him. She was certain he wanted her too, but now she wasn’t sure. Maybe he just felt sorry for her. Maybe he was going to give her a sympathy lay as if providing some therapeutic service. She wasn’t sure, and right now she didn’t want to find out. Right now she just wanted to be held. She didn’t care why he was doing it; all that mattered was that he was.
Alaina felt as if she had been crying for hours. The emotional storm raging inside her was finally starting to subside, but it had already taken its toll on her. She was starting to get a headache; she felt nauseas and shaky. Despite her feelings she willed herself to lift her head from Sully’s shoulder. He had tak
en a seat on the wooden dining room chair.
For the first time since he’d taken her in his arms she realized just how inappropriate her position was. There she sat; her legs straddled Sully’s Capri Montgomery 103
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body, chest pressed to his and arms draped over him as if she had a right to hold him so possessively.
“I’m sorry,” she tried to pull away, but his arms seemed to tighten around her.
“It’s okay,” he said, but she wasn’t sure to what he was referring; her breakdown or her position on his lap. Then again, she wasn’t exactly sure for what she was apologizing.
“I’m not usually this bad at keeping a reign on my emotions.” Normally she didn’t allow herself to breakdown, not in front of people.
She had cried the night Troy died, but she held it together at the funeral.
After her father died she learned quickly to contain her emotions; partly because she knew there was nobody there to comfort her, but mostly because she refused to give her mother an edge over her.
“You don’t have to keep your guard up with me.”
“Yes I do.” She couldn’t afford to feel for him what she had already begun to feel. He had a life, a family, and neither included her no matter how much she wanted it to.
“No, you don’t.” He looked into her eyes and once again she felt vulnerable, as if he could see through her. “Talk to me.”
“In Central America you wanted me to shut up.” He exhaled slowly. “In Central America I was an ass.” She wouldn’t deny that fact, but he was there to save her life, not chit chat; she wouldn’t hold a grudge for that.
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“Well if we’re going to talk perhaps I should sit in my own chair.” She started to move, and just as before his hold on her increased. “Or I can just sit here.”
“Good idea,” he said as calmly as he seemed to say nearly everything else.
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