Texas Bodyguard

by Jean Brashear

  But thinking about Sean now…she couldn’t. He’d nearly bled out, but the second shot had hit him in the right side and missed critical organs. As she walked toward the waiting limo, she was intensely grateful that he’d survived, that he would recover.

  She didn’t know if she ever would. For a few days, she’d experienced something beautiful and amazing. A rare gift she didn’t expect to ever find again.

  And she was the one who’d tossed it aside.

  “Annabelle! Over here!” cried a voice from the crowd outside the gates.

  She didn’t even care. She was finding it hard to care about anything these days. She simply looked straight into the cameras and let the shutters snap.

  “Ready, Ms. Quinn?” her driver asked.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “I’ll get you home in a snap.”

  “Thank you.” Home. Home is where the heart is. In that case, she was hopelessly lost.

  She’d left her heart halfway across the country, and she couldn’t even ask for it back.

  “It’s been nearly five weeks,” Sean grumbled. “I’m sick of lying around.”

  “You’re doing physical therapy,” Jilly, his current babysitter, pointed out. “Maybe you ought to walk ten yards for every time you bitch. You’d have finished a marathon by now.”

  He had to smile. “Smartass. I’m not that bad.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Shall I get your mom on the phone and let her give her opinion?”

  “Maybe not.” His folks had just left a few days ago. They’d been badly shaken by the seriousness of his injuries. It wasn’t the first time he’d been hurt on the job, but he’d always bounced back fast. They’d hung around even after he’d been released and had done everything imaginable for him. “But in my defense, I wasn’t in my right mind.”

  “Yeah, but what’s your excuse after the first few days?”

  “Watch it, kid.”

  She smiled. “They sure put in time on this house. It looks a lot better. You actually have three livable rooms now.”

  “Hey, I’d have gotten there eventually.”

  “In this century?”

  The kitten he’d named Spot leaped from the floor and landed on his belly. “Oof! Not there, okay?” Gingerly he used his good left arm to shift her away from the healing wound just above his hip.

  “You with a cat…who’d have thought?”

  Not him, for sure, but as it had turned out, the kitten hadn’t been claimed. It was pretty pathetic that he wanted her because she connected him to Annabelle, but…there it was.

  He wondered, as he did every day, how Annabelle fared. If she’d gotten over Lowe’s betrayal. She must hate the publicity that had still not fully abated.

  He devoured every picture of her he saw on TV or in the papers or online.

  She looked…sad. Weary.

  “Thinking about her again?” Jilly asked. “Annabelle?”

  “No point.” He glanced over at the TV. “So what should it be today, Judge Judy or Dr. Phil?” He lifted the remote.

  Jilly snatched it out of his hand. “Are you just going to sit here and let her go?”

  He didn’t have the spirit to engage in his usual battle with her. “Leave it, Jilly.”

  “Why? Because, for the first time in your life, a woman’s not falling at your feet?”

  “That has nothing to do with it. You don’t understand the first thing about what happened.”

  She settled on the coffee table beside him. “Then why don’t you explain?”

  He shoved to sitting and winced. Slowly he rose and glowered down at Jilly. “I said leave it.” He stalked to the back porch. Stood there and looked around.

  Even here Annabelle haunted him. He could see her, languid in his arms…crouching over the kitten…bare legs beneath his shirt…kissing him back with such sweetness…

  He’d never had his heart broken before.

  It hurt like ten kinds of hell.

  “Sean, I’m sorry,” Jilly said from the doorway.

  He glanced back. “It would never work, can’t you see that? She’s—she’s Annabelle Quinn, and I—I’m…this.” He gestured around him. “Nothing wrong with it, but there’s no midpoint, no compromise, even if—” Even if she’d ever bothered to contact him since that day.

  “She refused to let them admit her to the hospital for observation so that she could stay near you until she knew you’d make it. Does that say she doesn’t care?”

  He’d been told that, but he had no memory of her. “She left town before I ever woke up.”

  “She told Saint she’d cover the cost of the best specialists available.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s just what I want, her throwing around money on my behalf.”

  “I never got the sense that money was all that important to her.”

  He snorted. “She’s one of the richest women in the country. Hell, in the world, for all I know.”

  As an artist, you don’t perform for the money.

  He ignored the memory. Easy for her to say—she had buckets of money.

  “So your pride is more important than your heart?”

  “What else do I have, Jilly? I can’t be a kept man. And I don’t want to live in L.A., anyway.”

  “Liam’s figured out a different path.”

  “Liam is the one with the money in that relationship.”

  “If you weren’t hurt, I’d smack you. So you can only love a woman who makes less than you? You are such an idiot, Sean. What does money matter compared to love?”

  “A whole damn lot.” Again he tried to shrug her off with a mock-leer. “You can only spend so much time in bed.”

  “Ooh!” she glared at him. “Do not be deliberately thick-headed. I saw her at the hospital. She was devastated. She feels guilty, Sean, that’s why she left. She thinks what happened was her fault.”

  “It was.” Suddenly he was furious in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before. “It absolutely was. I told her to stay away from him, but she didn’t listen.”

  “So you need a woman who’s obedient and poor before you’ll fall in love?”

  “No!” It was too late for that. He’d already fallen. But still… “She didn’t trust me, damn it!”

  “You were undercover. You lied to her, by necessity, yes, but she’d just gotten divorced from a man who lied to her constantly. You’re good at what you do, very convincing…so somehow she’s magically supposed to see through you and trust someone else who’s deceiving her?”

  “Yes—no—she should have known me, damn it. What we had was real. She felt it, same as I did, but in the end, she didn’t trust me. And she walked away from all of it.”

  He stared out at the trees, at the yard he’d had such plans for. Had even pictured Annabelle there in those heady few days, even when he’d known he shouldn’t. “It was real. I love her. And none of that matters.”

  “So you’re going to sit around here and mope? Just give up without even trying?”

  Her needling didn’t bother him this time, not when the pain inside his chest had claws like a saber-tooth tiger.

  He wasn’t a quitter, no.

  But recognizing the truth wasn’t quitting, it was simple logic. The chasm between their worlds was too huge to span.

  “I can’t travel for another week, anyway, the doctor said.”

  “And then?” she prompted.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do,” Jilly said softly. “Sit down, Sean. You’re pale as a ghost.” She sat down the porch swing beside him, and they rocked in silence.

  “Annabelle, darling, you’ve lost weight.” The photographer fluttered around her. “You’re delicious, of course, but we have to take in this gown, too.” He sighed. “Someone get the seamstress again.”

  It was the last outfit of the shoot at the beach house the magazine had booked, and she couldn’t wait to be done. She was in more demand than ever for magazine covers. On the heels of a scandal involvi
ng adultery, possibly the only thing more tantalizing was being in the midst of gunfire and bloodshed. And when rumors included a knife-wielding star…

  Human skin was tougher than she would have imagined. Her stomach rebelled whenever she thought of it.

  So she tried not to.

  Not that her nightmares cared.

  She stood like a mannequin, eyes closed, while makeup was refreshed, while hands moved over her body, tucking here, pinning there. Music that sounded entirely too much like that played in Martin’s club pounded, and voices chattered at insane speeds, speaking of inane topics…

  She wanted to run away.

  But the only place she wanted to be was off limits.

  “You can’t come in here,” the magazine booking agent shrieked. “We’re doing a shoot.”

  “I came to see Annabelle.”

  That voice. She felt her insides quiver. Her eyes flew open.

  “Well, you can’t. I don’t know how you ever got in here. Get out or I’ll call the cops.”

  She swallowed hard. “He is a cop.”

  Sean stood perhaps twenty feet away, gaunt and weary, his arm in a sling but so very beautiful to her.

  “I’ll wait outside until you’re done. Will you talk to me?” He was curiously stiff and formal.

  “I will,” she managed.

  “All right.” He turned to go.

  Fear shot through her, that he would leave and never return. “Wait!” She searched frantically for the photographer. “Franco, please. Can he stay?”

  “No!” the booker complained. “He’d be a distraction, Annabelle.”

  Annabelle looked back. He was nearly to the door. “Sean, please don’t leave. Franco!”

  The photographer approached. Framed her face in his hands. “I don’t enjoy shooting a rag doll. There’s life in your eyes now.” He nodded. “For you, precious Annabelle, he can stay.”

  “Thank you, Franco.” She pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek, then immediately sought out Sean again. He was looking at her, but she couldn’t decipher his expression. She grabbed her skirt and lifted it, racing to where Sean stood.

  Up close, his beautiful smoky eyes were unreadable. Once again, fear shivered through her.

  But he’d come. That meant something, didn’t it?

  Her throat crowded with everything she wanted to say. Was afraid to. “Please. Will you wait in here for me instead? We’re nearly finished.”

  His eyes softened. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.”

  She wanted to touch him so badly, to throw herself into his arms.

  To find out how he was feeling, to be sure he would be okay…she couldn’t hope for him to tease her or smile at her again, though that would be the best kind of miracle.

  But everything had changed. She had changed it. She had no right to hopes.

  “I’ll hurry.” But she hesitated. She didn’t want to leave him.

  “Go on, Hollywood,” he said gently. “Let him take pictures of you in that dress you’re almost wearing.”

  The nickname undid her. She glanced down and blinked hard so the makeup artist wouldn’t have to start over. “It will be all the rage,” she said, and her voice was almost steady.

  “Tissues held together with pipe cleaners never go out of style.” And there it was, that old twinkle she’d thought never to see again.

  She drew a ragged breath. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He nodded. “They’re waiting for you,” he said softly.

  She made herself turn around and go back to Franco.

  She only looked back twice to be sure he was still there.

  “Honey girl,” Franco stage whispered. “You’ve been holding out on us.” He winked. “It might be worth re-shooting the other outfits, the bloom he puts on you.”

  She gripped Franco’s arm. “You’re not serious.”

  “I am tempted, precious.” He winked. “But I wouldn’t do that to you.” He clapped his hands. “All right, people, let’s get this done.”

  Sean watched Annabelle speak to an assistant, who promptly brought him a chair. Someone else scurried over with a tray of fruits and breads, whispering an assortment of beverages that were available. “But whatever you want, Miss Quinn says. You just name it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Oh, please. This shoot is costing buckets. We don’t want her unhappy. Whatever you’d like, just let me bring you something.”

  Finally he agreed to a cup of coffee and saw the girl’s relief. Seeing how everyone in the place was focused on Annabelle made him newly aware of just how important she was, how many people fawned on her, how far up in the stratosphere she existed.

  Was this trip a fool’s errand? Probably. Hopelessly naïve to think he’d see one trace of the sunburned, laughing woman who’d shared tacos with him and argued over Jane Austen?

  Almost definitely.

  I’ve missed you so much. Haunted lavender blue eyes.

  He’d missed her, too—however miserable he’d been, he hadn’t truly realized how much he’d missed her until he’d seen her again in the flesh.

  But observing her in her milieu, watching the power she wielded…secret fantasies he’d been daydreaming when he couldn’t stop himself crumbled to dust now.

  Sean, please don’t leave.

  He wouldn’t go, at least not yet, because even being slapped in the face with the reality of her life, being forced to witness the gulf that yawned between them…was better than not seeing her at all.

  At last she was done. Annabelle didn’t want to let Sean out of her sight, but all her usual detachment at being poked and prodded, stripped and dressed, vanished under the weight of Sean’s gaze, and she found herself newly modest. “I’m just going to change,” she said to him. “Five minutes.” She waited until he nodded, then raced for the bathroom, assistants trailing her and muttering.

  Once inside, she let them peel her out of the gown. “Where are my clothes?”

  Someone shoved them at her, and she donned the yoga pants and hoodie quickly, then slipped her feet into her flip flops, trying not to wish she had something prettier to arm herself with for this conversation.

  She raced back to the set. “Thank you, everyone. Great shoot.” She kissed Franco. “I’m going to take him out on the deck, maybe to the beach. How long do you have the place?”

  “Take your time, dear heart. We’ll pack up, but we’ve got the property all day. I’ll keep security in place so no one bothers you. Just send them home when you’re done. What about your driver?”

  “Would you tell him I’ll call if I need him?”

  “Sure thing. Good luck, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks.” She bit her lip. “I need it.”

  She crossed to Sean, led him onto the deck overlooking the ocean. “We can go down to the beach—that is, are you okay to walk?”

  “Been doing it for years.”

  “I meant—”

  “I know what you meant. I’m not back to full speed, but I’m getting there.”

  He didn’t move.

  Neither did she.

  The waves crashed behind them. The air pulsed with the heat of emotions, the sweet sting of memories, the weight of too much unsaid.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked at last.

  “I don’t know why I’m here,” he said in the same instant.

  Hope faltered.

  She’d wronged him so. She should go first. “Sean, I’m so very sorry. It was all my fault. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, but—”

  “But?” The faintest curve of his lips encouraged her just enough.

  “I don’t know, I guess…I wish there were some way to earn your forgiveness, anyway.”

  “I lied to you, Annabelle. You had every right to be upset. I just…”

  “Didn’t have any choice,” she finished for him. “I get that now. If I hadn’t been pitying myself so much, I would have realized it then. You were in an impossible position. You have nothing to apolog
ize for. I’m the one who can never say I’m sorry enough. None of that had to happen.” A lump the size of a basketball lodged in her throat, a ragged tangle of all her regrets.

  She forced herself to straighten, to face him and what she’d done. “Vanessa tells me you’re doing well in physical therapy. Are you in terrible pain?”

  “Not enough to justify what a bear I’ve been.”

  She tried to smile, but guilt overrode her ability to see humor. “You’re completely justified. You—” Her voice broke. “You saved me. You nearly died doing it.” She ducked her head and brushed at her eyes.

  He lifted her chin, and even that small touch zinged straight to her soul. “I didn’t, though,” he said gently. “Are you fully recovered?”

  “Yes.” Physically, at least.

  “You’re too skinny. I should have brought some barbecue.”

  That did make her smile. “That was a fun day.”

  “All of them were—okay, maybe not the last one.”

  She dropped her gaze in shame.

  “Hey…” he said gently. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. It won’t ever be. Martin died. You nearly did. I see it over and over again. I can’t sleep because all I can see is you bleeding and still fighting to protect me. And me doing everything wrong.”

  His free arm closed around her, gathered her in to his broad chest. The scent of him wrapped around her, the fragrance of so many dreams, such tortured, beautiful memories. She wanted to cling to him, to stay right here forever.

  His cheek came to rest on her hair. “Hold onto me just a second,” he whispered. “I need to hold on, too.”

  She dug her fingers into the back of his shirt. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “I’m not all that hard to chase down right now.”

  “I wanted to come back.” She raised her head, stared into his eyes. “Every day I wanted to, but…I didn’t have the right. You were hurt because of me. I’m so sor—mmph!”

  His mouth closed over hers, and the world filled with sweetness. She moaned into his lips and held on tighter. This, this…oh, how she’d missed this. Thought never to have it again.

  His kiss lingered, soothing her, easing her, arousing her to want more, to hang on and never let go.