by Maggie Marr
She settled into a tallboy chair opposite Beck. He’d flipped over two pictures from the stack. Her belly tightened. Shit. Pictures of faces that she’d once loved but that had betrayed her trust. She took a swallow of her coffee. Fucking great way to start the day—with pictures of all the estranged people in her life.
“We need to have a conversation. I need to go over details to understand the threat.”
She sucked air deep into her lungs. Emptied her mind and opened her eyes. “Okay.”
“Your parents.”
She nodded. They’d aged poorly. Her dad with the shadowed look of an addict and her mom with a smile on her lips but sadness in her eyes.
“Either one a threat?”
“Mom, no. Daddy?” She paused. “Since their divorce . . . well . . .”
“Arrested six times since the emancipation. You bailed him out twice, but not after. Did jail time for DUI and possession.” Beck looked up from the picture of Natalie’s dad. “Seen him since then?”
“Nope.” Her throat tightened and she swallowed a sip of coffee. “Same story, different day. Gambling. Drinking. Needing money. Usually I delete his voicemails, but sometimes I listen to remind myself of who he is. He called the other day.”
Knowingness flickered in Beck’s eyes. “Your mom?”
“I hear from her more often.” Natalie’s chin dipped to her chest. She missed Mom. “Some days I want to see her and some days . . .” She shook her head. “They’re divorced now and just, whenever I’m with her, somehow I end up being the parent.”
“Like that your whole childhood?”
She squinted and her lips curled into a wry smile. “What childhood? They had me doing commercials when I was three months old. Had my first series by age nine. My daddy’s nickname for me was ATM.” She tilted her coffee cup and raised an eyebrow.
***
She was taking what Beck was serving. He pitched the questions hard and fast and then circled back. Question upon question. He needed to determine if the intel Estrella’s people had accumulated about Natalie’s life and the potential threats was accurate. Beck also wanted to understand where Natalie was emotionally vulnerable. Which of these people who’d betrayed her still inhabited a spot in her heart?
Beck set the picture of the wannabe gangster thug onto the marble counter. “Heard from Rico since his release?”
A sharp intake of air and Natalie’s eyes widened.
A slick, oily feeling curled through his gut. Fuck. Was Natalie’s psyche so dented that she still wanted this guy?
Color drained from her face, her skin now the color of paper. Rico had his hooks implanted into Natalie’s heart. Her gaze skittered away from Beck’s eyes.
Uh-oh. Not good. Not good at all. She was getting ready to lie to him or, even worse, she was lying to herself.
“I haven’t seen him since his release.”
Hmm. Maybe not a lie? Maybe just a careful use of words? She’d done the same yesterday at Villa Blanco.
“Have you spoken to him?” Beck kept a tight leash on his tone. Natalie’s eyes flashed with his question. “My ability to keep you safe becomes exponentially more difficult if you lie to me.”
Her eyes widened, those brilliant blue eyes that made Beck want to grab her, pull her onto the kitchen island, and press his dick deep into her body.
The pulse in her neck fluttered, her nostrils flared, and her pupils dilated. She either wanted to kill him, fuck him, or do either to Rico.
“I’ve spoken to him,” Natalie finally admitted.
“More than once?”
“More than once. A few times. He wants to see me. I told him no.”
Tightly coiled, he’d held his breath waiting for her answer about this fucking bastard. “What he did to you and those other people makes him a big risk.”
Natalie shook her head. “No, no, no, Rico wouldn’t ever hurt me, he—”
“He hurt you before.” Beck flipped over the photo of Natalie’s busted face with bruises and red marks. Angry stitches across her chin and cheekbone.
“That was an accident,” Natalie said. “He didn’t do that, my face . . . my accident wasn’t his fault.”
“He pled guilty.”
Natalie’s cheeks pulled inward as though she held back words that wanted to be set free. “Events aren’t always as they appear.”
Boy, didn’t he know it. He’d spent a decade pretending to be someone he wasn’t.
“I know Rico and I know he won’t hurt me. I also know that our time together is over.” Her gaze locked on Beck. “I don’t love him anymore.”
The knot in Beck’s chest loosened. Fucking dangerous for him to care who Natalie Warner loved or didn’t love. Not his business. Not supposed to be his business. Not now, not ever.
“Do you know where he is? Where he’s staying?”
“Not for certain.” She dropped her gaze to her hands. “But I have ideas.”
“He’s the reason you don’t want the police involved. It’s not your image or your career.”
She stiffened and her eyebrow raised. With a tilt of her head she gave him all the answer he needed. Yeah, she might be over the bastard, but for some reason she was still trying to protect the S.O.B.
“I don’t have the luxury of a personal life. I try to keep some things private.”
“Understood. There’s one more—we’re unsure about identity.”
Beck flipped over another photo. A grainy shot of a person in a hoodie. Their face shadowed.
Natalie leaned forward and her brows wrinkled. “I don’t know who that is. I can’t even see their face.”
“Neither do we. And that’s the problem. No clear shot of a face, but take a look in the background of the photo.”
Natalie’s heart stalled. Acid churned in her gut and fear hardened into a thick ball in her throat. The guy was ten feet away from where she was getting into her car on Sunset Boulevard.
“And again here.” Beck flipped over another picture. This time they were closer to her . . . so close.
The hair rose on the back of her neck and her heart beat fast. They were right beside her outside Chaya as the valet handed her the keys to her car.
“And one more.”
“Who is that?” God, in some pictures this person was close enough to touch her, reach out and grab her, and she hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t seen them, hadn’t even been aware . . .
“We don’t know, but we’ll find out. I need your schedule for the next three months. I also need the names of every person who has access to your schedule.”
“That’s a long list.”
“We need to make that list shorter.” Beck leaned forward and closed the distance between them. The photos of Rico and the hoodie-wearing creeper lay between them like a pinless grenade. “I’m here to keep you safe regardless of the situation you choose to be in.”
Heat flooded the space between them. Yeah. There was that pulse again, in her neck, beating like she was running a fucking sprint.
“I’ve . . . in the past . . .” Her gaze dropped to her hands and she rubbed the back of her right hand with her fingertips. Those giant eyes flicked back up to him. Her voice was soft, nearly a whisper. “I’ve put myself in some questionable places. Done some questionable things.”
He could live with that. What would she think if she knew all the dicey things he’d done? Would this heat still pulse between them or would she recoil in horror, afraid of the killing machine he was?
“I understand. I’m not your judge. I’m your protector.”
Her fingers reached out and curled around his hand.
A bolt of white-hot heat shot through his body. His gaze met hers. He could mask his reaction to most stimuli, but he didn’t think he was could mask his attraction to Natalie.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I already feel safer knowing you’re here.”
Desire charged the air between them. Heat slid down his spine. He wanted to keep Natalie safe, keep her c
lose, but he couldn’t allow himself to fall for her while he was doing that for her.
Chapter Ten
Beck’s lips pressed to her neck and slid down her chest. A trail of liquid heat sent her heart racing. His hand cupped her breast and she arched back, pressing her head into the pillows. “God, yes, Beck. Yes.” Her voice was warm and rich with desire.
He pulled her taut nipple into his mouth.
Slivers of heat flashed through her body. She clasped the back of his head and her back bowed, wanting him to pull her nipple deeper into his mouth. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh and her hips thrust up, seeking out his hard maleness to fill her. To make her come, to give her the satisfaction she craved—
“Yo, girl, what is up with you? Snoozing by the pool with a script and a margarita at four o’clock? You feeling okay? Taking a little vacation from your workaholic ways?”
Behind her Wayfarer shades, Natalie’s eyes fluttered open. Hand on hip, Stacia stood beside the poolside lounge chair in a white sundress that clung to her curves.
Natalie cleared her throat. “Hey, no,” her voice raspy, “just fell asleep.”
“Not a good sign for that script you’re reading.” Stacia flopped onto the lounger next to Natalie.
The last two weeks, Natalie’s dreams had been filled with an X-rated movie reel of her and Beck together.
“Drinking too? Damn girl, what is going on?”
“You’ll see.” There was a reason Natalie chose this spot to read scripts. This was her third day in a lounger by the pool. She nodded toward the far end of the backyard.
She’d discovered this show entirely by accident two days before, but ever since that afternoon she’d planned her day around this forty-five-minute paradise.
“Best view ever.” She picked up the pitcher and poured a margy for Stacia.
“What are we watching?” Stacia lifted her sunglasses and her gaze trailed across the swimming pool and around the yard.
“Look to your left, but don’t be obvious.” Natalie handed the glass of booze to her friend.
Stacia lowered her shades over her eyes, leaned back, sipped her margy, and then turned her head just a hint to the left.
A quick gasp. “Mother of God,” Stacia breathed, her voice dripping appreciation. “Sex on a stick.”
Beck, shirtless and sweaty, sprinted from the house to the far end of the yard, where he immediately started doing jumping jacks. His golden, sun-kissed skin gleamed in the afternoon light.
“You’re living with that?” Stacia swallowed. “I mean, I knew the man was good-looking, but day-um.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups. The muscles in his arms tightening and flexing with every lift.
“It gets better.” Natalie took a long sip of her drink. “Next are the wind sprints.”
“Girl, how have you not tapped that?”
“He’s my bodyguard. Don’t think it’s advisable to sleep with the guy who’s meant to protect you.”
“Not my bodyguard, you think maybe I could borrow him for a couple nights?” Natalie lifted her eyebrow and shot Stacia a look. “No harm in asking. And besides, since when do you do what’s advisable where men are concerned?”
Good point. Natalie sighed. Her head hadn’t been in charge much where lovers were concerned. Sometimes her heart, often her libido, but logic was usually left out of the equation. Not now. She was attracted to the gorgeous man across the yard. Sweat, like liquid sugar, dripped down his hard-carved pecs, but she doubted Beck would appreciate her jumping him. He’d already rejected her once at Villa Blanco.
“Sleeping with Beck would be inappropriate.”
“And this is appropriate?” Stacia nodded toward Beck, now running in place. “Sitting in your yard pretending to read and ogling this man? I mean, I get it, I’m happy to sit here with you and enjoy this—my God, look at the muscles on his back.”
Natalie inhaled. The problem was she didn’t want to simply look at Beck, she wanted to touch and feel and grab and rake her nails down that long, well-muscled body until he called her name.
“You know what’s better than wind sprints?” Stacia asked.
Natalie tilted her head.
“Pull-ups. You need to get that man a pull-up bar. Put it by the pool house.”
Natalie nodded. So inappropriate and yet so satisfying, sitting here, drinking a margarita, and staring at the man who was protecting her. That beautiful, well-muscled machine of a man, who was protecting her.
Her belly wobbled and her toes curled. Had anyone ever protected her? Didn’t feel like it. Most her life she’d mainly felt like she was protecting herself.
“He knows we’re here.”
“Doesn’t mean he knows we’re watching him.”
“Oh, he knows.” Stacia sipped her margy. “I feel the sizzle between you two, just like that day at lunch.”
“That day at lunch he turned me down.”
“Girl, because he was there to do his job, which was to protect your ass, which he did. Doesn’t mean the sparks weren’t real. Come on, you of all people should know that you cannot manufacture that kind of heat.”
“Or ignore it,” Natalie mumbled.
“How long do you think you can pretend this chemistry doesn’t exist between you two?”
“As long as it takes.” A memory of the photo of the guy in the hoodie tore through Natalie’s mind.
She shivered. Her gaze followed Beck as he slowed to a jog. Soon he’d stretch out the lovely bulging muscles he’d just worked. The show was nearly finished. She was physically attracted to Beck—what straight woman wouldn’t be? Her gaze skimmed over his shoulder and pecs, but she also felt a sense of security, of safety, when he was with her. Had she ever experienced those feelings before Beck’s arrival? Natalie couldn’t remember ever feeling this safe.
She crossed her ankles and flexed her feet. Her desire for Beck wasn’t a good enough reason to jeopardize him staying on the job to protect her. He was pretty uptight and all business. She’d rather squash the desires for him and have him as her bodyguard than have a fling that meant she had to find a new bodyguard in a couple of weeks.
Beck turned to the side, bent forward, and stretched his hamstrings.
“He makes me feel safe,” Natalie whispered, more to herself than to Stacia.
“Well, thank God for that. Because you deserve to feel safe, and whatever whackadoo is prowling around ought to know they’ve got to get through that wall of A-prime muscle to get to you.”
That man that owned that wall of muscle stood and turned toward her. His gaze locked onto her. No smile, but that intense heat sizzled between them. A pull that they both felt. He tilted his head as if in recognition, then turned and jogged back to the house.
“You felt that, right? Even I felt that. This thing between you two is powerful.”
Powerful, maybe, dangerous yes, and right now Natalie had more danger in her life than she’d ever wanted.
“So how are you really doing?” Stacia asked and poured herself another margy.
“I tell people I’m fine.”
Stacia tilted her head to the side and thinned out her lips. “Puh-lease, this is me.”
“But really, I feel like a mess. Between the parking garage and the guy in the hoodie—”
Stacia whipped her head toward Natalie. “What guy in a hoodie?” She sat forward in the lounge chair. “You didn’t tell me about a guy in a hoodie.”
Natalie filled in Stacia, who sat there in horrified shock. “How long has this crazy person been stalking you?”
“They don’t know.”
“I think it’s time for the cops.”
“No. Cops.” Natalie’s tone was sharp, sharper than she usually used with Stacia.
“Look, I get that you value your privacy and you don’t want to drag all that other baggage back into the light, but girl, this is a man following you wearing a damn hoodie. Come on. And the parking garage
too? This shit just got real.”
“They’ve got it covered. Beck has it covered.” Natalie’s gaze shifted toward the sliders at the back of her home where Beck had disappeared. Was he showering? She closed her eyes. She’d love to shower with him.
“You think it’s Rico?”
“He wants to meet up. Says he needs closure for his recovery.”
“Fuck that. He can get his damned closure over the phone. Don’t you dare.”
Natalie bit her bottom lip.
“I know that look—don’t even think about meeting that trash. After what he did?”
“That wasn’t his fault.
“Bullshit. You were with him when it happened and he—”
“Don’t.” The memories of that night, which ended in the hospital, her face battered and bruised and Rico arrested, were tucked away in Natalie’s head, and she had no desire to take them out for review. “I just . . . I understand the need for closure, okay? I get how that can feel so important. “
“Take Mr. Muscles with you. I mean, who knows what person is after Rico’s ass now? Last time it was his bad shit that got you hurt.”
***
Hot water pelted Beck’s skin. Damn. Natalie’s eyes on him . . . This was the third time she’d watched him work out, and today Stacia had been in the audience. He didn’t work out to give Natalie a view, he worked out so his physical performance remained on point and he could protect her, keep her safe, keep himself safe. But her eyes on him were like a warm caress over his skin, and damn if he wasn’t starting to want that caress to be real.
She tugged at him with her presence. He knew where she was nearly every minute of the day, but he also felt her presence. A connection he couldn’t ignore.
What the hell?
Had there been anyone he’d ever felt this connected to? Marisol? No, not even her. Their relationship had been based on a shared past and two good people stuck in a bad situation. He’d cared for her, loved her, but not felt this undeniable connection to her. Why Natalie? Why now? What a pain in his ass. Mistakes happened when want and need and emotion interfered with logic and calculated engagement.
He dropped his head beneath the water and scrubbed his hands over his neck and face. Hadn’t he learned that tough lesson after the last mission? He’d let down his guard, allowed emotion into the equation, made himself and her vulnerable and been fucked.