The Bride And The Bodyguard

by Anita Meyer

  She didn’t trust this man with her life, let alone her heart. And she certainly didn’t care about him. Didn’t dare care about him—not with Davis slithering in and out of her life like the viper he was. And yet, all it took was a good healthy dose of lust, and she was ready to surrender…run up the white flag…throw away all her principles.

  It was crazy. Sheer madness.

  Slowly, reluctantly, Caroline turned the shower knobs and let the water sluice down her body. She washed away the sand and the seawater and every physical trace of their ever having been together.

  But she couldn’t wash the memory out of her mind.

  She dried off and dressed quickly, wrapping a towel, turban-style, around her head. The only way to handle things with Jeff was to keep it light, humorous, funny.

  “Your turn,” she sang out, as she breezed out of the bathroom—and promptly walked into him…again.

  “Caroline, I’m sorry,” he said, his large frame all but blocking the doorway.

  “Didn’t we rehearse this scene this morning?” Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to step around him, careful not to brush against his body. She was absurdly afraid that if she touched him, even casually, there would be no way to prevent the smoldering flame from becoming a raging inferno.

  “I mean it. I’m really sorry.”

  She pinned on a bright, insouciant smile. “About the kiss or the dunking?”

  His steady gaze never left her face. “Both. I was unprofessional and totally out of line. I betrayed your trust and took advantage of you. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “Look, McKensie. You didn’t betray my trust. I told you before, I don’t have any. No offense, but that’s the way I am. Now go take your shower and I’ll call room service and order dinner.”

  He gave her a funny look—one she couldn’t decipher…or chose not to. Finally he nodded, then pulled a few items of clothing from the drawer. “I won’t be long,” he said. “And I’ll leave the door ajar. If you need anything, yell.”

  Caroline paced the room, looking out the window, deliberately keeping her back to the open bathroom door. Knowing full well if she stood at just the right angle, the shower with its glass door would be fully visible. It didn’t take a quantum leap of imagination to picture him in there—lowering his crossed arms, grabbing the bottom of his T-shirt, pulling it slowly over his head.

  It didn’t take a visionary to see the wide, well-muscled shoulders that tapered to narrow, equally muscular hips, or the long, powerful legs covered with dark bronze hair. She knew, without looking, that a black Speedo swimsuit, barely wider than her hand, covered his male strength.

  Without realizing it, she had narrowed her full-room pacing, and now found herself walking like a sentry just the few feet back and forth in front of the bathroom door. She could hear the water running, and could feel the steam encircling his body.

  The mind had the power to play incredible games, and more than once, reality had been a far cry from what she had imagined. Obviously, this was another one of those cases—and one quick peek would put all this nonsense to rest.

  Hands planted firmly on her hips, she spun around in front of the bathroom door—and swallowed hard. An arousing glimpse of firm, rounded buttocks and heavy male thighs greeted her. A deep valley ran down his spine, bordered by thick ridges of muscle. He was magnificent…powerful…perfect. His wet body glistened and flexed as he soaped himself, moving the bar with quick, efficient strokes. She watched in fascination as he stepped under the fine spray and rainbow droplets zigzagged down his back.

  And then he began to turn around….

  Caroline fled, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste to get away. Trying unsuccessfully to banish the images from her mind, she grabbed the phone and with shaky fingers punched the buttons for room service.

  What she needed was a little food and a good night’s rest—but she’d settle for one serious piña colada.

  Augie Davis smiled into the phone, then placed it in the cradle with a soft click. He opened the middle drawer of his desk and selected a felt-tip marker—black. Lifting the cover of the single file lying in front of him, he scanned the remaining names on his list of suspected Carolines. Slowly, deliberately, he drew a fat line through the one in Missouri. The woman had been a problem.

  She wasn’t Caroline Southeby, but she would never be a problem for anyone—ever again.

  Chapter 7

  Caroline stretched out on the chaise longue and felt the sun slide along the length of her body like a lover’s caress. After three weeks in this tropical paradise she enjoyed surrendering to the sun and the sand and the cooling trade wind that drifted lazily over the water.

  So far, everything had gone according to plan. There was no sign of Augie Davis or any of his men. Nothing strange or unusual had happened with the hotel guests or staff. Even the weather had been absolutely glorious—surrounding them with balmy days and warm, tropical nights. It was almost paradise.

  Almost.

  There was one glitch in this Garden of Eden.

  And his name was Jefferson McKensie.

  Caroline scowled as she thought of the change that had come over Jeff since that afternoon on the beach. He had done a complete one-eighty. He was gothic and stoic and all business. He seemed edgy, tense, strung out. Occasionally he was downright hostile. And he avoided her like the plague—which was pretty funny, considering he was rarely more than a few feet away.

  Their meals were eaten in silence, he sat up reading most of the night, and when they went swimming, he always made sure they stayed a respectable distance apart.

  And why? Because of a few shared kisses?

  Caroline shook her head. Not likely. The mouth that had covered hers was sinfully experienced. But when she had tried to talk to him about it, he’d cut her off before she could say more than three words.

  “I’m sorry,” he had said. “It won’t happen again.”

  Perversely, that was exactly what she wanted.

  And the rejection stung more than she cared to admit.

  With a small huff, she rolled onto her stomach and rested her head on her folded arms. Why should she waste her time thinking about him? She might as well enjoy the time alone before old Frosty came back with their lemonades and put the deep freeze on everything within a three-mile radius.

  Who needs him, anyway? she thought. Certainly not an independent, self-reliant woman like herself. She was going to make the most of this tropical paradise—the sun, the sand, the gentle breeze…

  A shadow blocked the sun, throwing her body into shade. She turned quickly toward the source, but her eyes were blinded by the glare of white-hot sunshine reflecting off the ocean.

  “Hi, Caroline,” said a small voice.

  Caroline pushed her mirrored sunglasses to the top of her head. “Hi, Alex. What are you up to today?”

  The six-year-old held up a bucket and shovel. “Sand castles,” he said gravely. “I took a class so now I can build ‘em really good. Wanna help?”

  Caroline grinned. Alex took great pride in the fact that he was the one who spotted her the day she “drownded,” and he’d been an almost-constant companion ever since. Jeff wasn’t happy about the child’s presence, but it didn’t take long to check him out. Alex and his parents had come to this resort every summer for the past five years, and as an added precaution, Arthur had unearthed the family’s genealogy for four generations. Everyone from Alex to his greatgrandparents had checked out clean.

  “I’d love to,” she said. “But I might not be very good.” She pitched her voice low, even though there was no one around to overhear them. “I’ve never done it before,” she confided.

  “That’s okay,” Alex said brightly. “I can teach you.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the wet sand near the water’s edge. “First you have to pick the right spot. You can’t be too close to the water or the waves will mess it up before you’re done. And you can’t be too far away or you�
�ll have to carry lots of water to get it wet.” His face pensive, Alex turned around in a slow circle, surveying the area. “I

  think we should build it right…here.” He broad-jumped into the sand, planting both feet in the spot where their castle would be built.

  “Looks good to me,” Caroline said, kneeling in the sand. “Just tell me what to do.”

  For nearly two hours, Jeff watched Caroline pack wet sand into a plastic bucket and turn it upside down on the beach, making structures that looked vaguely like medieval turrets. She built up a sand wall, and carved out little windows with the help of a discarded Popsicle stick. With her bare hands, she dug a moat around the perimeter, and lugged about two dozen buckets of seawater to fill it.

  And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Three weeks in the sun had driven the pallor from her features. Her skin was now lightly tanned, and her brown hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders, glittering in the sunlight. The breeze blew a few silky wisps across her face, and she swept them away with the back of her hand as she worked. He was mesmerized by the sound of soft voices and quiet laughter.

  An inexplicable longing stirred inside him—long-dormant memories he was powerless to stop. Memories of his parents…of himself and Mac as children…of being part of a family.

  Most of his life had been lived according to a master plan—a plan he had conceived and designed while still in high school. Methodically, he’d mapped out his career— college, law school, associate, partner. Every stage was carefully charted, complete with short-term and long-term goals all neatly arranged.

  He also knew that someday he would marry. Eventually, he would have 2.3 children and a golden retriever, a respectable home in the suburbs and a minivan. But that was still a ways down the road. He had slotted it roughly for the period of time between being an associate and becoming a partner—give or take a year.

  And he was right on track, perhaps even a little ahead of schedule. His life was going just the way he wanted it to go. He had allowed nothing to impact his well-laid plans.

  Until now.

  Now, suddenly, crazily, in the semishade of a Caribbean palm, he was ready to dump his life’s blueprint into the nearest trash can…because of her.

  She was everything he had ever wanted and more. She was bright and witty and passionate. And if her rapport with this child was any indication, she would make one hell of a mom.

  He could only begin to imagine what it would be like to wake up every morning to the sound of her laughter, to look into her glorious eyes at the end of each day, to go to bed at night with the taste of her on his lips.

  Fate had dealt her a miserable hand, stripping her of everything she held dear, making her tough and distrustful, fighting just to stay alive. She deserved better. She deserved to be loved and cherished, cared for and comforted. She deserved a man whose world revolved around her, a man to sleep beside and a raise a family with, a man who would abandon everything else in life to make her happy.

  A gull swooped overhead, casting a sudden shadow on the sand, and Jeff instantly sobered.

  These were the kinds of thoughts that could get them all killed. How could he protect her, how could he hope to perform his job, when his mind was light-years away? He needed to keep a clear head. And that had to be his first-his only—priority.

  A faint beeping sound drew his attention to the pager hooked at his waist. Alarmed, he pulled it off and examined it closely. A telephone number appeared on the LCD display. Mac’s number, to be used only in an emergency.

  Jeff took a step toward Caroline, then stopped. His first reaction was to grab her hand and haul her off to someplace safe until he could contact Mac and find out what the bell was going on. But maybe that was exactly what someone would expect him do.

  Someone like Augie Davis.

  Jeff studied the area. The ocean effectively cut off half the access. There was no way a boat could reach the shore—it would hit the coral reefs long before it hit the beach. And there was nothing unusual going on in the water, just the dozen or so people who had been frolicking there most of the afternoon. Over the ridge was the golf course, with four holes of wide-open grassy lawn and no place to hide. The only possible place for an attack was from the area directly behind Caroline. The area dotted with palm trees and baobabs—the area where he now stood.

  For a long moment Jeff wrestled with the options. Yanking her off the beach would arouse a great deal of suspicion, not to mention the job it would do on her sanity. She had calmed down a lot over the past three weeks, and wasn’t as jittery or skittish as she had been in the beginning. She was actually starting to relax enough to sleep at night—a fact he could personally attest to, since he spent most of the night watching her. What good would it do to work her into a state of frenzy before he even knew if there was anything to be frenzied about?

  None at all.

  His fingers twitched as he clutched the pager. Around the corner, not more than fifty yards away, was the lemonade stand…and a telephone. He could go up there, use the phone, and be back in no time.

  Jeff looked around once more, convincing himself that no one could get to Caroline without passing him first. Then he turned on silent feet and bolted up the hill.

  * * *

  Caroline gave Alex’s shoulders a gentle squeeze as they knelt in the sand, admiring their work. The castle was little more than a lopsided trapezoid, and the turrets bore an amazing resemblance to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but all in all it wasn’t a bad first effort. “What do you think?” she asked her young companion.

  Alex laid a small piece of driftwood across the makeshift moat. “It’s perfect,” he pronounced. “Do you like puppies?”

  Caroline blinked. Keeping up with a child’s conversation was a lot like trying to catch a zinging racquetball. There was no telling where it would bounce next. “I love puppies,” she said.

  “Wanna see some?”

  “Sure.” She stood up and stretched the kinks out of her cramped muscles. Never again would she assume that building a sand castle was child’s play—it was hard work. She glanced at her watch as she brushed some of the sand from her arms and legs—and it was time-consuming. She had no idea she’d been at this so long. And where on earth was Jeff?

  “What’s the matter?” Alex asked, pulling on her hand. “I thought you wanted to see the puppies.”

  “I do,” Caroline said. “But, I need to find my…husband first.” She had promised to let Jeff know where she was at all times, and she wasn’t going back on her word now. Not when their truce was so fragile. Not when his approval had become so important. “I have to tell him where I’m going,” she explained.

  The little boy nodded his head knowingly. “Yeah, my mom makes me do that, too. ‘Cept here. We come every summer and I know the place real good. They know I can t get lost or nothing. But you can’t tell him—he’s gone.”

  “Who’s gone?” Caroline asked hesitantly.

  “Him. You know, the man you went swimming with. He was standing right over there.” Alex pointed to the chaise longue she had been lying on. “But then he left.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, are you sure it was Jeff? He has blond hair and he’s about this tall.” She raised her hand some six inches above her head.

  Alex nodded. “Yep, it was him, all right.”

  Caroline stared at the spot, trying to make sense of a situation that defied explanation. This wasn’t like Jeff—taking off without telling her, leaving her unattended for the first time in weeks. She shrugged. Maybe he was giving her more freedom, allowing her a little more responsibility for her own safety. She should be elated. Instead, a strange sense of disappointment hovered over her. Okay, so maybe she did protest too much. Maybe she had actually started to enjoy his company—a little.

  “Are you coming or not?” Alex asked. His fists were firmly planted on his slender hips and his lower lip stuck out in an unmistakable pout.

  “You bet, I’m coming,” Caroline s
aid determinedly. If there had been an emergency, Jeff would have said something—warned her. And he obviously wasn’t in any trouble himself because Alex said he just left. So, the heck with him.

  “Let’s go.” She grabbed Alex’s hand and they took off running, heading for the ridge that overlooked the golf course.

  Jeff clenched the receiver. “When did this happen?”

  “Twenty…thirty minutes ago,” Mac said. “She’s a housekeeper. Hasn’t missed a single day in the last five years. Today she calls in sick and a replacement is on the way.”

  Jeff swore.

  “Look,” Mac said. “I already spoke to Arthur and he’s going to run a check. But that could take a while.”

  “Pack your bags. We’re grabbing the next plane out of here.”

  “Sorry, bro, but Arthur wants you to stay put. A sudden bolt would arouse suspicion. One way or another, he’ll call us back in seventy-two hours.”

  A long sigh escaped Jeff’s lips. “Understood. You stay on the newcomer. I’ll keep Caroline in the room.”

  “Right. ‘Bye.”

  Jeff hung up the phone, then leaned back against the side of the kiosk. He should have known something would go wrong. Three weeks in paradise without so much as single rain cloud was more than he had dared hope for in San Diego. But as the days turned into weeks, he had begun to think maybe the apprehension and foreboding were misplaced. Maybe they would get through this ordeal unscathed—physically speaking. Maybe it was all right to start dreaming about the future.

  Well, so much for daydreams.

  And now he had to tell Caroline.

  Jeff cringed at the thought of changing the rules on her. For three weeks she had faithfully lived up to her end of the bargain, and he felt like a heel having to reinstate the house arrest. Maybe she’d understand it was only for three days. And then again, maybe that was another of his fancy pipe dreams.

  Three days, and then they’d either go back to the way things were now or hit the road running. Jeff shook his head. Three days of being cooped up with the woman who had haunted him unmercifully from the moment he’d seen her picture. Three days of living side by side, day and night, without so much as an hour off to ease the unbearable tension. Jeff closed his eyes. Waiting for something to blow up or blow over was always the hardest part of this job—and all the signs pointed to a major explosion.