Falling for the Bodyguard

by Jean Oram

  “I guess.” She paused, running her hands through her hair. “I just wanted to prove that I could take control over my life and that I could make changes. And I can’t.” She met his eyes. “You were right.”

  Hearing her say that wasn’t as rewarding as he’d thought it would be.

  “You’re in a tough spot right now and there aren’t a lot of directions for you to maneuver. Don’t judge yourself based on the ability to take charge over the past week and a half. You’ve tried a lot harder than most people would in your situation.”

  “Are you blowing sunshine?”

  “You should know me better than that by now.”

  “Are you really a billionaire?”

  The shock must’ve shown on his face, judging by her reaction. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Pretty much.”

  Only a few dollars short and a lifetime too late to really enjoy it.

  “I would never have figured. You carry it well.”

  “Was that a compliment?”

  “You get so few that you don’t recognize them?” She gave him a goofy smile and he could see that she was well on her way to a cheerful mood again. Back to the Daphne he had come to love.

  “And,” she said, holding up a finger in warning, “complaining about money is not me asking you to save me. I know you heard me, Maya, and Polly talking.”

  “You’d make a horrible gold digger.”

  She sighed, shoulders drooping. “I know.”

  “Come.” He stood and held out his hand. “I want to show you something hard.”

  She rolled her eyes with a groan. “I have no interest in touching your gun.”

  “Don’t make this dirty.”

  She blushed in a way that made him grin inside as he led her out of the house.

  Daphne should have known.

  Evander wanted to teach her kung fu. Or karate. Or jiu-jitsu. Some sort of martial art that was not created for aligning one’s chi, but rather for killing someone with one’s bare hands. The man was never going to understand her, was he?

  Digging her bare toes into the soft grass of the sloping backyard, she put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Evander said.

  “Which one?” She tipped her head to the other side. “The one where I am staring at you as though you are a crazy fool who knows nothing about me even after living elbow to elbow for six days? That one? Or maybe the one where you try to make me into a killer so I can be like you, the big army hero.”

  He took her down.

  She didn’t even see it coming. One moment she was giving him sass and the next moment she was flat on her back in the grass, the heavy weight of his body pushing into hers. She kind of liked it.

  Even though the move was taught to him for reasons she was opposed to.

  “I never said I was a hero.” His breath was warm on her forehead. She could stay here awhile. He hadn’t even hurt her, laying her out flat.

  “Do that again. That was really cool.”

  “No.”

  She stuck out her tongue and he pulled her to standing. He maneuvered her hands so they were in front of her face, elbows pointed down. “We’ll start with a few blocks.”

  “I want to take more action in my life, but not in a kung fu action movie way, Evander.”

  Then again, if she got a chance to hit Evander she probably wouldn’t refuse. Yeah, yeah, she was a peace-loving person who believed in words before violence, but she figured she owed him one for the way he’d cramped her style and messed with her chi’s alignment. And she hated to admit it, but this was kind of perking her up for some weird reason.

  “Take out your frustrations on me,” he said, beckoning her with his raised hands. He had them positioned as if he was going to chop through something.

  She snorted. “I’m not going to hit you.” He’d just block every hit she tried to make, which would lead to immense amounts of frustration.

  She contemplated his face, the strength of his bones. She’d probably break her hand if she managed to land a hit. “Can you teach me how to wipe that grin off your face?” she asked.

  “Which one?” he teased. “This one where I look at you as though you don’t know me after living elbow to elbow for six days?” He gave her a wicked grin that stirred something fizzy deep in her belly. “You liked that one?”

  She lunged at him and he caught her, spinning her around, pushing her up against the trunk of a nearby birch. His breath was tantalizing on her bare neck and she leaned her head to the side, needing to feel his lips graze the tender skin.

  Instead he stepped back, releasing her.

  “I was having a very nice feel-sorry-for-myself session up there, you know.”

  “Beating something will fix you up.”

  Daphne rolled her eyes. Typical man.

  Evander made dodging moves as though they were in a boxing ring, and she tried to hold her interest. The sunflowers along the back window were starting to open. Fall was coming. She was going to have to put Tigger into school soon. Would she have enough money to cover the requested back-to-school supplies? She hadn’t registered Tigger in the local elementary, unsure why she’d dragged her feet. It was only kindergarten. She hadn’t sent her daughter to optional junior kindergarten, figuring too much school would be hard on a bouncy girl like Tigger, even though it would have been cheaper than day care.

  Evander’s open hand whizzed by Daphne’s ear as he faked a jab. Without thinking, she blocked him.

  “Good, good!” he said encouragingly.

  He threw another jab and she blocked that as well. She had that job interview with Environment Canada tomorrow morning. She’d never thought a nine-to-five position would hold appeal, but with her daughter starting school maybe it was a good answer. Financial stability. Benefits. Retirement package. She’d hadn’t saved a nickel for retirement yet. She blocked another jab and yawned. She’d also need flexibility in her schedule. Would they be able to offer that?

  But could she make a difference working for the government? She needed that sense of fulfillment in a job if she was going to be there full-time.

  “Let’s mix things up a bit,” Evander said, backing off. Good. He was getting annoying.

  Would Environment Canada allow her to take a grassroots approach? She supposed she could always quit if it didn’t work out.

  Evander did some sort of crazy move, dropping low on the lawn, one leg whipping out to knock her feet out from under her. She landed hard on her butt.

  He paled and was over her in an instant. “Are you okay?”

  She blinked up at him. This close, she saw the flecks of gold in his eyes that she’d forgotten about. He had nice eyes.

  “Daphne?”

  His concern was so genuine, her throat closed up. She rolled onto her left hip and stood, giving herself distance. Dusting herself off, she said, “I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

  “I’m sorry. You were just blocking everything and I…”

  “I was what?”

  “You were blocking me like you’d done this before. I figured it was time to step things up. What kind of training do you have?”

  “Training?”

  “Martial arts. Karate or something?”

  “Tai chi. Yoga.”

  “Huh.” He leaned back on his heels. “Maybe I should try yoga, after all. You’re good.”

  The compliment was unexpected and Daphne felt herself blush.

  “You went to this sort of Zen place,” Evander was saying.

  “I was thinking. Are we done? I’m going to get a sunburn. I didn’t put on lotion.”

  Evander repositioned himself, taking on his typical shoulders-back, all-business body language. “I need to teach you self-defense.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s something I can do for you.”

  “Aren’t you already doing enough?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Fine.�
� She threw up her hands. “Teach me how to kill someone. Put a dark hue on my aura.”

  “There’s a positive energy associated with using your body to defend yourself. This is going to give you strength and power.”

  “Okay. Show me.” She tipped up her chin, fighting to be positive. She always worked so hard to show the world a happy side, and it seemed as though Evander simply walked up and it all just drifted away as though it had never been there, revealing all her hurt and anger. The hurt and rejection she kept hidden inside. He always released it, and she hated feeling that way. It was out of control and it wasn’t happiness. Those emotions were so dark and strong they could take over her life, destroy her. Her feet ate the ground between herself and Evander as she threw all her hurt and anger into her hands, thrusting them against his broad chest. He stumbled backward, his eyes wide.

  To her surprise, he shoved back. She caught herself before she fell, and whirled on him, fists clenched and swinging. If he’d been a second slower, she would have hit him a good one right on the cheekbone. Instead, he blocked her and dropped into a ready position, legs bent in a crouch, arms out and ready to block her jab. She imitated his position, glad she was in jeans for once.

  He wiggled his fingers at her as though to say, “Give it to me. Give me your best shot.”

  She knew she couldn’t take him. She had nothing in her arsenal that could get through to a man as trained and as ready and aware as he was in this moment. The lawn stretched out behind him, birds chirped in the sky, a light breeze kissed her skin, and in front of her was a man as large as a grizzly bear, ready to take her down as soon as she moved.

  She dropped her arms in defeat. This was her life right now. She couldn’t move without being taken down. She could throw goodwill and ideas out there and they’d be swatted right back out of the sky again, as though someone was standing over her, swinging a giant flyswatter.

  Tumbling into the grass, she held in a choking sob. Evander was wrapped around her in an instant, pulling her onto his lap. He held her so tight it was both confining and comforting. Soothing and painful.

  It was perfect.

  The sobs spilled out of her and his lips burned trails across her forehead, laying kiss after kiss as though paving a highway of sympathy across her skin.

  She tipped her head up so the kisses would land lower on her face. The heat of his skin touching hers left tingles along her cheekbone, over the bridge of her nose, before curving around to her lips.

  Their kisses turned greedy and hard, bruising skin as they tried to give away the pain in their souls. Her palms ran up his sides, untucking his perfectly ironed shirt. His skin was hot under her fingers, and she tracked over small ridges of scars as though they were a sandy lake bottom under her touch.

  His hand ran up over her T-shirt, and she sighed. It had been so long since anyone had touched her. Consumed her. Loved her.

  Their kisses turned frantic as she straddled him, plucking at the buttons down his front. All thought left her mind for long glorious seconds. Her body tingled with anticipation and everywhere it touched Evander’s she felt as though she was caving in to him. She wanted to be his, to be seen, to be felt.

  Evander whispered something, his voice raw. She smiled against his mouth, pushing his shirt off his shoulders. It was caught on something. Her fingers stumbled across something hard. His gun.

  She scrambled out of his lap, suddenly aware of what she was doing and with whom. He was her bodyguard. He was being paid to protect her. He was a wonderful man, but he’d made it clear that being together would cloud his judgment. She needed him clear-minded for her, for Tigger.

  Chest heaving, she fell to the grass, staring at the handsome man who locked his eyes on hers, his gaze echoing what she wanted. What she needed. Echoing the lust. He felt it, too. The connection. It fizzed and sparked between them like wet Pop Rocks candy. Evander was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Not even Mistral.

  He was the man she wanted, despite everything. Daphne Summer wanted Evander de la Fosse with everything she had.

  14

  Daphne walked slowly and carefully down the old wood steps the led into the basement. She’d peeled herself off of Evander’s smoking hot body on the lawn six hours ago and had spent the last six agonizing hours wanting him. Avoiding him. Six hours of trying to be good. And now she’d had enough.

  She hadn’t been in the basement before. It wasn’t exactly off-limits, but hadn’t been part of the welcome tour of the house.

  She paused, doubting herself. Would getting involved with Evander put everyone at risk? Would it affect him? Maybe he’d changed his mind about getting involved with a client since nothing dangerous or scary had happened for almost an entire week.

  Music and light flooded her way as she continued to creep down the old staircase, a hand trailing along the wall on either side. From her vantage point, the basement looked as though it had been finished. She paused at the bottom, then crossed the laminate floor, stopping in the doorway where the music was pumping from. The room was brightly lit, with mirrors along one wall. Foam exercise mats interlocked across the floor. The stereo played “Demons” by Imagine Dragons loudly enough that Evander, who was in a corner, didn’t hear her clear her throat.

  He was shirtless, with mounds of muscles rippling. Sweat slicked his skin, making it shine under the lights. He was tanned, strong, healthy, and utterly irresistible.

  The room was filled with exercise equipment, weight machines, and barbells so massive it seemed impossible that anyone should be able to lift them, let alone one man. Evander was pumping iron, doing biceps curls with weights that looked large enough to weigh down a member of the Mafia sent to go swim with the fishes. Watching Evander, Daphne wondered how he managed to not rip through shirts. He was compact and powerful.

  His intense focus on his movements made her breath catch. She stood in the doorway, uncertain whether to proceed. The song changed to something dark with a lot of electric guitars, and Evander switched exercises without apparent thought. Setting down the barbells, he stepped to a machine and began doing weighted squats. The machine’s round weights were larger than the tires on her minivan, and she wondered if Evander ever worried about being crushed.

  When she figured his legs must be burning, he reached for a rope and began skipping. His arms crisscrossed in front of him over and over, picking up speed. She’d thought that Tigger was a good skipper, but Evander was light on his feet in a way that belied his size. The man was dangerous.

  She stepped back, preparing to sneak away, feeling as though her intrusion had led to her seeing a side of Evander she wasn’t quite prepared for. Her movement caught his eye and his intense focus was gone in a flash. He dropped the rope and came to her, a hint of primal aggression just below the surface despite his concerned look. She stepped back, a hand at her shirt collar.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

  “Nothing. Supper’s ready.”

  He stared at her for a moment, and she knew he’d seen through the lie. All week, his mother and brother had planned meals around his routine, and today was no different. He always said to go along without him if he wasn’t ready in time. Daphne had intruded upon his space, crossed the line.

  Evander watched her with those dark, brooding, probing eyes of his and she felt exposed. Around him, nothing ever stayed hidden.

  “You’re a crappy liar,” he said, though his expression was kind, amused.

  She moved her mouth, but no words could come out. He was so masculine. Large. His shoulders so broad, his waist so tapered, hips so narrow. He was so man. It made her hungry. And not for supper.

  Slowly, as though it was just dawning on Evander that his body was holding her under its spell, he gave a hint of a knowing smile.

  So few emotions ever made it to Evander’s surface that Daphne felt similar to a blind woman seeking hints under her fingertips to find out what was going on with the man.

  She wished it was her body mak
ing him speechless, throwing him off, making him be the one wanting more than he could have.

  Without thinking, she reached out, placing her hands on either side of his sweaty face, bringing his lips down to hers. For all his strength, there wasn’t a hint of resistance, and he made the move as easily and fluidly as though it was his idea.

  Daphne slid her tongue inside his mouth, the warm sweetness overpowering her. There was something about Evander that felt right. Safe. Hers.

  She pushed her body against his and his arms slowly came around her, cupping her in a way that felt as though a piece of what had always been missing was coming home at last. It felt as though this was the only place she was ever supposed to be.

  Sighing against his mouth, she broke the kiss. Keeping her eyes closed, she savored the moment, tucking it away for later, when he would surely slip out of her life. The thundering of the music’s bass echoed in her chest cavity, jumbling her irregular heartbeat in a way that felt like discord. Welcoming discord.

  “What do you want, Daphne?”

  “You.”

  “You know I can’t do real life,” he whispered, his voice anguished. “Relationships. Family. I can’t be the man you need. The man you deserve.”

  “Try going with the flow to see what happens. You might surprise yourself.” She teased a finger down his chest, loving the way it slid in one long glide, making her think of other things. More carnal things.

  “You are the kind of woman men wait for,” he said, removing her finger from where it had paused between his hot skin and the elastic of his workout shorts.

  She sighed. That sounded really good, but it wasn’t what she was looking for. She sagged against his body, wondering why he wouldn’t just do what they obviously both wanted.

  “Don’t you want me?” she asked, hating the vulnerability in her voice.

  “Want has nothing to do with this.”

  “Is it because I’m a mom?”

  “Not in the way that you think.”

  “Why do men have a problem with understanding that mothers still have wants and needs?”