by Beth Rhodes
“I know it’s awful, but it’s nice to have recognition. To work so hard and have someone say, ‘wow. Good job.’ I need to call Janice. She’s going to be so psyched over this.” The glow of warmth at having someone to call, someone who understood her success, filled her. Finally, her life seemed to be filling in with the good things. Friends, family, success…maybe love—eventually?
The thought stopped her. Tan.
“Go ahead, then we’ll open a bottle of wine to celebrate.”
But Liz worked as she made the call, pulling the makings of a salad out of the fridge.
“Liz, everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine here. What are you up to?”
Janice paused.
“What?”
“Well, I stopped over at Hawk’s Gym, to check it out—of course.”
“You did not.” Liz snorted a laugh. “I can’t believe it. Did you meet Hawk?”
“Holy mother, Liz. I never met so many amazingly hot men, I think I got pregnant being there.”
Liz rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. Guess what?”
Janice hummed a response as if thinking. “You’re going on the road with the Ice Capades again next year?”
She snorted. “Ice Capades is dead, dear. Don’t even think of resurrecting it.”
Janice sighed. “It would be fun, though. A year on the road, skating in dozens of cities. Meeting men from around the world.”
“No. Guess again.”
“Tell me.”
“I got the cover of Premier Skating.”
“What? Are you serious? This is huge, Liz.”
“More than huge.” A flutter started low in her stomach. “I’ll have more orders than I can handle. I’ll need to hire again—”
“Maggie?” Liz’s dad came through from the living room with a holler.
“Hey, listen,” she said to Janice. “I better go. Dinner at Dad’s. You know how it is.”
“I want an invite next time.”
Liz laughed. “With this rowdy bunch? Ack. You’re better off, believe me. We’ll meet tomorrow, okay? I need your help with the Expo next month. Time to get my designs in order and ready to go.”
“You got it, Boss.” The click in her ear signaled the disconnect.
Dad had taken a bowl of pretzels and left by the time she got off the phone.
The kitchen was large enough to fit a hockey team, literally. When her dad had built the house, he’d anticipated lots of men. Liz pulled out a few different kinds of lettuce and set up a workstation at the counter. Rinsing the vegetables in the small sink, she started breaking off pieces, one by one.
“You’re looking so much better since the attack.”
“I feel better.”
Maggie hesitated, a fraction of time to consider her next words. Liz sighed inwardly because she knew what was coming. Maggie had a way of pinpointing the heart of Liz’s messed-up life. She’d been there when Liz had been void of any feeling at all, unable to smile, unable to touch. When even anger had been beyond her capabilities.
And Maggie had pulled her out.
“How are things with Hawk Elite? And Mr. Byrnes?”
“Oh, fine.” Liz made sure to keep her voice from revealing anything of an emotional nature. Not easy when the sound of his name had her heart pumping a little faster. “He does his thing. I do mine. For the most part.”
“Mmhmm.”
“He’s having background checks done on all my friends and family.” The note of resentment was there. She had no control over it, apparently.
Maggie poured a dark broth into the pan on the stove. “Thorough, then. That’s good.”
“It’s a waste of time, if you ask me—”
“That’s why no one is asking you, Elizabeth.” Her dad’s voice made her jump as he came through the kitchen doorway again and headed for the oversized fridge where he pulled out a few drinks. “Maggie, dear. Michael needs to leave in an hour. How long until dinner is ready?”
“A few more minutes,” she answered with a shy smile she seemed to save for him. Dad patted the housekeeper’s rear, making Liz roll her eyes.
“No one I know anymore would hurt me, Dad. You know it.”
When he lifted his brow, she continued. “Except Gabriel.”
“And he’s been looked into and is being watched. This is not for you to worry about.” Her dad put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t like the feeling he was putting her in her place. “We’re all heading over to the rink after dinner. Michael scored a few extra tickets to the game. You in?”
Liz frowned. “Who’s we?”
“Everybody.”
“Tan?”
“Especially Tan.”
Just her luck. Usually when she brought a man home, he was met by her shotgun-toting posse and given the third degree. “Soo, he’s getting along with my brothers?”
“Fitting in like a glove, Baby.” He was like a kid with a new toy. “And determined in his goals, too. He knows what he wants from life. Takes his job seriously, and that’s important because you’re important. He’s showing us his guns.”
“Dad, no!” Liz could officially skip dinner now. “This is so embarrassing. Do not take out your collection of Civil War rifles and vintage handguns.”
“Now, now. Don’t you worry, Liz. We don’t have time. So, we’re only pulling out the handguns.” His laughter followed him out to the den.
Maggie hummed a little as she stirred the pot. “Will you go to the game?”
Liz wanted to go to the game. Of course, she did. She loved the rink, loved the excitement. The truth was, when she’d brought Tan home, she hadn’t expected him to gel so well. If things had been awkward, she’d have a good reason to keep her distance, to shove these fledgling feelings back down where they belonged. She sighed. “Maybe.”
“Tancredo isn’t like the other men you’ve brought home, Liz.”
“I didn’t bring him home.” Liz took a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured some into a tumbler, taking a sip before she resumed chopping vegetables. “And his is the same. He’s a man.”
Maggie laughed and patted her shoulder then gave her a squeeze. “And a fine looking one, too. Although, he could cut his hair.”
“I like his hair.” The words came unbidden and Liz dropped her chopping knife onto the block of wood. “For crying out loud, look what you have me saying.” She laughed. “I guess it’s true, though.”
Maggie’s gaze turned all-knowing. “This is different.”
“Yeah. I know. He’s not an actual date. Next time I meet a guy I like, I should call him a bodyguard and then bring him home. Everyone will fall all over him like he’s some kind of hero, and I’ll actually have a chance with him because he won’t be scared away.”
“Ahh.” Maggie gestured with the ladle in her hand. “This one won’t be so scared, I think.”
With a huff, Liz rolled her eyes. Maggie’d only met the guy tonight. What did she know?
But when Liz finished the salad and brought it out to the dining room, she wondered. Tan was different than any other guy she’d dated. She could look back and see… Todd, the sculptor. Rudy, the tax accountant. And a mess of one-date-wonders of all varieties. And before them, the great and conceited Gabe. Her track record sucked, and for the first time since Gabe, her heart pounded when a man was around. Even the sound of his voice sent little thrills through her.
The twelve-foot table was already set with the pretty Sunday china. The ivory table cloth warmed the room, looking almost a pale blue from the reflection of the navy-colored walls. All the trim was rough-hewn. The white ceiling opened to the timber joists overhead. In the fireplace, flames serenaded with a low hum of burning wood. Homey. And despite Tan’s presence, she did love to be home with her brothers and her dad.
She fixed a crooked place setting then peeked into the den to get a look at what they were going on about. Tan really did fit in with the men in her family. It was probably his bossy, macho tendency.
> Dad handed him the 1940s Ruger, and he immediately checked to see if it was loaded.
Liz rolled her eyes. Stop doing that, she warned herself. You are not a high school teenager!
Tan sighted down the barrel, hefted the gun, then turned it and handed it back. “How long have you been a collector?”
She should go finish helping with dinner.
But it had been a while since she’d had a chance to study the man from a distance. This seemed the perfect distance as he leaned an elbow on the bar, and gestured with his hands. His broad shoulders tapered to his waist and jeans-clad rear.
A flush rose on her neck. He did look good, and she appreciated a man who took care of himself—physically. Her family demanded high standards—always. She wouldn’t be with someone who couldn’t keep up with her…or her family.
Maggie came up behind her and called over her shoulder. “Dinner’s ready!”
Liz froze as the small crowd of men all turned her way. Her eyes were caught by Tan’s deep assessing gaze. She cleared her throat, opened the door all the way, and pasted a smile on her face. “Dinner, everyone?”
~ 14 ~
Her hands shook with a fervent rage.
There seemed no way it was possible.
Success on top of success.
And then there was Tan. Tancredo.
Would she get Tan as well?
Pain in her hand sent a shot of awareness through her, and she stopped.
Watched as blood dripped from her palm to the cutting board where she’d been chopping vegetables for her dinner. She flung the food into the garbage. “Aaigh!” she yelled, blinded.
No. This couldn’t happen again.
Never. Not this time.
She hurried down the hall. She’d waited too long. Spent too much time planning.
In the bathroom, she grabbed the bag of syringes and pulled one. No, two. Just in case.
It took her a moment to fill them.
She pulled her coat on and left the house.
She had to end this tonight.
***
“Dinner was really great. Thanks for inviting me.” Tan was back to his good ol’ polite self as he drove them east towards Raleigh and the arena. It was a familiar drive for Liz. After her skating career ended, Dad had finally moved out of town, away from the practice rink. And then she’d moved back. Better for business. Better to think she’d gotten over the trauma—for everyone, including herself.
Liz had to succeed, to prove she’d come out stronger on the other side. It was the only way to defeat the fear that sometimes still paralyzed her.
“It’s no big deal,” she admitted, liking how it almost felt like they could be on a date or out as friends. Stupid. But reality. Taking a deep breath, she forced a calm her nerves called phony. Sheesh. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow when he went back to being the personal guard and she could focus on something besides how good he smelled and how the deep timbre of his voice did funny things to her.
Nice things. Things she shouldn’t be thinking about a guy who barely liked her. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but through dinner, he’d actually talked to her like she was more than his newest client.
They pulled into the PNC Arena parking lot, not quite early enough to get a primo parking spot.
“Oh, a parking place!” Liz pointed to the first open spot she saw and noted the walk wouldn’t be too long to the arena, but Tan continued closer. At the last minute, he pulled into VIP row, reached over her legs to open the glove box, and pulled out a tag, which he stuck to the window.
“What is that?”
He shrugged, his mouth turning up in a smile. “I know people.”
She was staring and couldn’t help it. His smile, lit by the street lamp over their heads, drew her in like a magnet. His lips were beautifully full and a little moist.
His smile disappeared, and he cleared his throat.
Liz looked away, then back, and caught his gaze. “Sorry. Just…um, you have amazing lips.”
The air in the car was heavy with the silence of their breathing.
“This wouldn’t be a good idea,” he whispered.
Heat flooded through her.
Oh, my God. She grabbed her purse. “We should go.”
The cold of the early evening air hit her and cleared her head. She was making a complete fool of herself, and she should totally apologize. But when she turned, she could see him through the window. He pulled his gun from its holster and tucked it into what looked like a secret compartment under the glove box.
A shiver ran down her spine. He wasn’t a date. He wasn’t a friend. If her ultimate embarrassment wasn’t enough to remind her, this was.
Tan stepped down out of the truck and turned to her with a smile—that distant, polite smile.
“I’m sorry,” she started.
“Don’t be.” He came around the front of the vehicle.
“No.” She didn’t need to be coddled. “I have been known to say things I shouldn’t, and completely embarrass myself and/or my siblings. It’s been a long life.”
“We’ll be spending a lot of time together. An attraction to me isn’t unexpected.”
She stopped on the sidewalk and watched him as he continued toward the doors.
“Of all the—” Her mind went blank. Conceited and completely arrogant. As if he dealt with the likes of her all the time. As if she were just another in a long line of…of… Ick! She would never admit to being attracted to him.
“Are you coming?”
Liz lifted her chin and started walking. When she reached him, she could see the glint of amusement in his eyes. She sniffed as she past him. She didn’t like him. Right? “Nice lips does not mean I like you, Mr. Byrnes.”
“Ah, Mr. Byrnes now, is it?”
Inside the arena, Liz saw her brothers and dad across the lobby. She waved and headed their way, leaving Tancredo behind. She didn’t have to like him.
And if she said it enough, it would most likely be true.
The game opened fast and hard, and her heart raced as she watched her brother’s team take the ice with skates screaming and pucks clashing. When the opposing team had Mike up against the wall, she was the first to rise and scream her encouragement. She was able to let go of the tension and the humiliation that had happened in the parking lot. As a matter of fact, she almost completely forgot Tan even existed. Liar.
Liz leaned into Jay on her left. “I’m off to the restroom. Be right back.”
He nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
“No,” she argued.
“No,” Tan echoed. “I’ll walk out with her. Give me a chance to check my emails and get an update from Hawk anyway.”
Jay grinned and let out a holler as the puck was struck, flew through the air, and landed smack in the goalie’s mitt. Liz hollered along with all the other hopefuls and stomped her foot. “Come on, Mikey! Get it in next time!”
She shook her head and started up the stairs then back down a little flight to the main walkway. Tan stayed on her heels, which irked, but only a little. He was her safety net right now. When she wouldn’t admit out loud the fear still consumed her, inside she would take his protection detail.
The bathroom was across the corridor from their section. Thankfully, there wasn’t a line.
A loud, boisterous group of ladies followed her in, and Liz smiled at the banter. She’d never had a close set of female friends. There’s always been too much competition in the way. Now, with Janice, she was one step closer to normal. And Janice made her laugh. She was boisterous, funny…a bit irreverent, but in the short days they’d been working together, Liz had been relieved to find her reliable and good at her job, too.
She really had to make a point to get out socially. Drinks. Coffee? She wasn’t even sure, but she was going to have fun finding out what it was women her age did on the weekends.
The noise level rose as the women swarmed the counter to wash their hands, check their make-up, and reapply
lipstick. Like a somewhat orchestrated choreography, the group began their exit.
Liz shook off her hands with a smile and reached for the paper towels. One of the women bumped into her, jabbing her in the arm with something sharp.
“Hey,” Liz frowned and swatted at the woman, her eyes widening when she saw the syringe. “What the…”
The woman moved in again, but this time Liz countered her attack with a side-step, made a quarter turn, and karate-chopped the woman’s raised arm, sending the object flying through the air.
“Shit.” Liz bent over at the waist, took a deep breath. When the woman moved again, Liz kicked out her heeled foot and hit high. The woman went down to one knee with a sharp cry.
“Liz,” Tan called into the bathroom.
Scrambling to her feet, the crazy lady hurried toward the second exit. Liz reached for her but missed, and she was gone before Tan entered.
***
Tan took one look at Liz and saw disheveled hair, heavy breathing. His gaze went to the doorway behind her. “You okay?” he asked, even as he took a step in the direction her attacker had gone.
“No.” She huffed, winded and blowing out a breath, trying to keep the fear at bay. “She—she—she got me with something.” Her throat closed on the words. “She had a syringe.”
She felt like throwing up, but didn’t know if it was real or a psychosomatic reaction to the fear of the unknown.
“I’m calling 9-1-1.” Tan glanced past her, and she knew he wanted to go after the culprit. He didn’t, though. Instead, he spoke into his phone as he dispensed paper towels and picked up the little syringe from the floor. “Ambulance is on the way,” he said to her as he stuffed the weapon into his jacket pocket.
Liz was watching, starting to feel slightly off. “Tan?”
He put an arm around her shoulders and then lifted her, tucking an arm under her knees. And then he was carrying her out into the hallway and down toward the main doors. “How you feeling? You still with me?”
“I’m okay. I think.” She frowned. “It’s going to be a slow death, isn’t it? I mean, if it was a quick working poison, I’d be dead already. Maybe it was one of those flesh-eating viruses? Maybe you should put me down. I don’t want you to get sick. Remember in NCIS when Anthony Dinozzo contracted the plague?”