Guarding Jenna: Brotherhood Protectors World

by Holt, Desiree

  “Oh god.” She looked down at the floor. “I must have had the dream again.”

  “The dream?” He had to ask, although he was pretty sure he knew what she was talking about. Along with the other information Hank had passed along was a note that she still had recurring nightmares about the rape. He was pretty damn sure that no matter how much time passed, no matter how a person tried to bury the memories, they were always lurking at the edge of the subconscious.

  “I had a nightmare about…it. Again.” She shuddered again. “He was coming after me, and I couldn’t run away from him. He grabbed me and— Oh god.”

  Okay, what was he supposed to say here?

  “Does this happen a lot?” He at least wanted to be prepared.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t had one for a long time.”

  “Coming back here to dig into this mess probably triggered it.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  He probably should get them both off the floor, but he wasn’t sure if he should touch her or not. But sitting here like this, remembering how she felt in his arms, however briefly, made him feel things absent from his life for a very long time. She was smaller than most of the women he’d been with, although probably tougher inside. And while most perfumes didn’t affect him one way or the other, that scent of wildflowers was driving him crazy.

  It wasn’t just his emotions in trouble, either. He was doing his best to send a message to his throbbing cock and his aching balls that this was all very inappropriate. It appeared, however, that his body was ignoring him.

  Fuck a duck.

  “I—I think I’m okay now.” Her tiny laugh had just a touch of hysteria to it. “I don’t usually end up in someone’s lap when this happens.”

  “No problem,” he assured her. And what did it say about him that he was glad no one else had comforted her like this. “No problem at all.

  And still, neither of them moved. At last, after what seemed like a long time, she sighed, letting out a long, slow breath.

  “I should probably get back in bed and let you do the same.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t need that much sleep.” He had his own nightmares to deal with.

  “But still.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “I try not to be this much of a mess most of the time.”

  “Jenna.” He realized he was stroking her back again. “You’re not a mess. You were a victim of a brutal attack. Rape is personally destructive at any age, but to a young teen it is even more devastating. Cut yourself a break.” He paused. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  She looked at him, the memory of that horrific event still visible in her eyes.

  “Uh, no. That’s okay.” She managed a tiny grin. “Thank you for this.”

  “Anytime.” He rose and held out a hand to her, relieved that she accepted it.

  They stood there, just looking at each other for a moment, every inappropriate word running through his brain. He didn’t know who made the first move, probably him because he had to lean down. But one minute they were staring at each other, and the next his mouth was on hers.

  The first thought that hit him was her lips were the softest, sweetest he’d ever touched. He couldn’t help using the tip of his tongue to trace a line over them. The second was that just this touch wouldn’t be enough. He realized Jenna had slipped her hands down from his shoulders in a slow movement and was gripping his biceps, her strong fingers digging into his muscles.

  He lifted his hands to cradle her face and slipped his tongue inside her sweet mouth. God! She tasted just the way he thought she would, sweet and sexy at the same time. He licked every bit of the tasty flesh, sweeping his tongue over hers, punctuating it with gentle bites. Her taste filled all the empty corners of his soul, all the places in his heart that were empty.

  A moan drifted on the air, and he wasn’t sure which of them it came from, but the sound pierced the fog in his brain. He lifted his head and stared down at her, at the sight of her lips wet and shiny and the pulse beating at the hollow of her throat.

  Then, as if realizing what had happened, she almost jumped away from him. She was the first to speak.

  “This didn’t happen.” Her voice was hoarse and unsteady. “It can’t.”

  Scot blew out a breath. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. This was very inappropriate of me.”

  Jenna shook her head. “That’s not it. And it was my fault, too.”

  “I shouldn’t—”

  “I appreciate you checking on me and not washing your hands of me because I’m such a psychotic mess. I—” She took a step back and lowered her gaze. “I have—problems. Because of what happened. Even if this wasn’t a business arrangement, I have nothing to give anyone. I’m frozen inside.”

  “Jenna, listen. I—”

  “That’s another reason why that kiss can’t mean anything. I’m sorry if you got the idea that it did.”

  Oh, he had more than an idea. And he knew, despite what she said, she’d been just as affected by it as he was, but he’d play this by the rules. Had to.

  “I take full responsibility for letting this get out of hand. If you want me to call Hank and have him send someone else, I’ll do it right now.”

  He waited, tense, for her answer. He knew the smartest move would be to do just that, but his stupid brain hoped she’d say no.

  She nibbled for a moment on her sexy lower lip then shook her head.

  “No. Stay. I don’t want to have to start with someone new, and you’ve already seen me at my worst, plus we’ve been seen n town together. Let’s just move forward and agree this won’t happen again.” Her mouth curved in a weak smile. “And I’ll do my best not to have any more nightmares.”

  “Will you be okay for the rest of the night?”

  She shrugged. “Who knows? I’ll try not to scare you again, though.”

  “I’m fine. And Jenna? Everything else aside, I’m here for whatever you need, not just protection from the bad guys.”

  “Thank you.”

  “See you in the morning.”

  He jogged down the stairs, mentally slapping himself upside the head.

  I’m here for whatever you need?

  Asshole. She doesn’t need you pawing all over her.

  He stepped out onto the front porch for a minute, hoping the chilly night air would cool his brain and his body and knock some sense into him. He just hoped to god she never mentioned this to her friend Grey Holden. Who would, of course, tell Hank. And then where would he be?

  * * *

  What on earth was I thinking?

  Jenna thought maybe if she banged her head against the wall she could knock some sense into it. Kissing Scot Nolan? Holy shit! She didn’t go around kissing men. She hardly had a sex life, as a matter of fact. Despite years of therapy, the moment a situation with a man began to hint of intimacy, she froze. The brutality of the rape and the remnants of the terror that never left her made her sex life almost nonexistent.

  Not that she hadn’t tried. Sometimes she just apologized and walked away. Other times she didn’t have the chance. The guy just took a hike, asking her if she ever planned to loosen up and live a little.

  Maybe if she’d met someone who wanted something besides sex and a good time, someone who cared enough about her to coax away the horrific memories and replace them with good ones, it might have helped. She knew it would take someone with patience to get her past this problem, but she hadn’t met anyone yet who could fill that spot or, truth be told, anyone she wanted to fill it.

  So, what? I want Scot Nolan to be the one?

  Stupid. Stupid, stupid. She knew the guy for five minutes and she…what? Wanted to jump in bed with him? Have him fix her problem?

  He was her bodyguard for heaven’s sake.

  But she couldn’t erase the memory of his touch when he soothed her, the strength yet tenderness in his hands. The kiss that rocked her clear down to her socks, if she wore any. The sensitivity wa
s the last thing she’d expected from him, the poster boy for macho man. And now she couldn’t get it out of her mind.

  I should have asked Grey more about this man.

  But he just seemed so closed off, she’d never have expected him to do what he did. She remembered her first impression of him when she’d seen him on the porch waiting for her, that of a remote warrior. It didn’t fit at all with what he had just done or what had happened between the two of them.

  It was just a kiss, for the love of god. Get over yourself already.

  She climbed back into bed, still wound up tight as a drum, sure she’ d never get a minute’s sleep for the rest of the night. But somehow she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, sunlight was streaming in through the high window. Amazingly, she’d made it through the rest of the night.

  But what would the day ahead bring?

  Chapter 5

  When Jenna made it into the kitchen, she was surprised Scot wasn’t there. The door to the bedroom was open, and she could see the room was empty. Had he gone somewhere without even leaving her a note? That didn’t seem very likely. She glanced out the big living room window and saw both her car and his truck still parked in front of the cabin. Maybe he’d gone for a run. She’d learned through Grey that the majority of men who had been in the service liked to keep in shape after they got out. Grey himself got up at five-thirty every morning to run five miles before heading to the office.

  Oh, well, he’d turn up soon. She knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him. Scot’s ground rules.

  With a mental shrug, she set about fixing a mug of coffee. She had just taken her first sip when the front door opened and the man himself walked in. It was hard for her not to notice the way his faded jeans clung to his legs and hips or how the long-sleeved T-shirt fit snugly over his well-muscled torso.

  The minute they locked gazes, an electric charge sizzled through the room. Her body seemed to be disconnected from her brain because her nipples hardened and a pulse low in her body set up a silent drumbeat.

  She wondered if Scot would say anything about what a hot mess she was last night. Or mention the kiss. The damn kiss. For an unbelievable moment, she was sure she could still taste his mouth on hers. How absurd was that, anyway? This wasn’t a movie where the handsome prince swoops in to save the beautiful princess by vanquishing the evil monster. There was no royalty in this room, and it was far from a movie. All it took was one look at Scot Nolan to blow that out of her brain. Whatever sizzle there was, either he wasn’t feeling it or he was ignoring it.

  His features were set in that same implacable look she’d noticed the first time she saw him yesterday, and his eyes had the same flinty look. Last night’s version of Scot Nolan might as well not have existed.

  Okay, then. That would make it a lot easier. She hoped.

  “Out seeing the countryside?” she asked, just to make conversation.

  “Checking something out.” He headed for the coffee machine.

  “Checking what?”

  She waited for more of an explanation and had to bite her tongue until he had filled his mug and turned back to her.

  “Don’t freak out, but I think someone was watching this cabin last night.”

  Don’t freak? Was he kidding?

  “What makes you think that?” She was proud her voice was so steady and the hands cradling her mug didn’t shake.

  “I’ve learned to trust my senses. I didn’t want to bring it up last night, what with…the situation.”

  She was sure her freak out and the kiss were what he referred to. She took a sip of coffee.

  “I can understand that.”

  “So, this morning I just took a little stroll down the road to see if another cabin had a view of us, maybe where the road curves behind us. But whoever built these cabins did a great job. Each one sits in its own little isolated pocket.”

  “So, then where? Who?”

  “As to where, I think from one of the narrow road cut into the particular mountain in our view. As to who, I’d be damn surprised if it was anyone but the object of your investigation.”

  For a moment, she was afraid the coffee she’d drunk would come right back up, so she swallowed hard, determined not to embarrass herself any more than she already had.

  “So you think he knows I’m here?” Yes, dummy. Otherwise why spy on you? “I haven’t broadcast it around. The only person I’ve spoken to is Sheriff Bartell.” Then she shook her head. “No, the word must be out somehow. Becca Reiter wants to meet me at eleven about something she doesn’t want others to know. I’ll bet my next royalty check it’s about this.”

  “And if she knows, others probably do,” Scot pointed out.

  “So what do I do?”

  “You do exactly what you came here to do. I’m going to call Hank and have him do some nosing around in a way that won’t trip any switches.”

  Jenna’s stomach knotted. She had been so sure she could come in here and fly under the radar. She knew whoever this was had to be very rich and very powerful. If not for Scot, she was sure he could make her disappear without a trace. For the first time, she realized how right Grey had been to set this up for her. What she was setting out to do was personal for the man who had raped her and the others, and he’d do whatever it took to stop her.

  “So, now what?” she asked.

  “So, now we eat something, go see the sheriff and then have your meeting with Becca.”

  Jenna shook her head. “I don’t think I could swallow food.”

  “You have to eat something. You can’t fight stress on an empty stomach.”

  “Toast.” She blew out a breath. “I can eat some toast. And I am more than capable of making it. But thank you.”

  While she munched on a solitary slice of toast, Scot wolfed down two muffins with his coffee.

  “The shape you’re in, I’d think muffins were off your food list.”

  He grinned. An actual smile. “They’re my weakness. I just work out an extra hour and run an extra five miles.”

  It tired her just thinking about it. She rinsed out her coffee mug, set it on the countertop, and picked up her purse and her tablet. “Ready whenever you are.”

  He nodded.

  As they rode into town, Jenna wondered if Scot was aware of the sexual tension riding in the cab with them. They might both have their reasons for vowing to ignore last night’s episode, especially that damn kiss. But if they were both honest, there was definitely something there, and it wasn’t going away just because they declared it would.

  They were almost to town when Scot broke the silence.

  “If you’re meeting your friend at eleven, will that give you enough time with the sheriff?”

  “I’m pretty sure it will. I’ll want to go through all the reports and then talk to him again.”

  “I don’t think the sheriff is going to give me more than the bare minimum of time it takes to get rid of me.”

  “You think he’s trying to hide something?”

  She’d had that thought and hoped that wasn’t the truth. Owen Bartell had been sheriff since before her mother had married Roger Holden and they’d moved to this area. From everything she’d checked into, he had a reputation as a good lawman and was well respected. Of course, from the many stories she’d written, she knew that didn’t always mean anything.

  “Jenna?” Scot’s voice pierced her thoughts.

  She gave herself a mental shake. “No. Well, maybe, but not for himself. He might know who it is. Or think he does.”

  “He could be sanitizing those reports to protect whoever it is,” Scot pointed out.

  “I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. Anyway, here we are.”

  The office of the county sheriff was a squat stone building that took up half of the block where it sat.

  “Lot of room for an office,” Scot commented as they climbed out of his truck.

  “That’s because the jail is attached to it. I guess when they built
it they figured it was cheaper to do it all in one.” She stopped for a moment, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Again he checked the area, keeping her behind him, before he stepped aside so she could move forward.

  She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You think he’d try to get me at the sheriff’s office?”

  “Just not taking any chances, remember?

  They stepped through the front door into a small reception area. Jenna tapped on the window to let the woman behind it know she was there.

  “Jenna Donovan to see Sheriff Bartell. He’s expecting me.”

  “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She frowned. “You look a little familiar to me. Didn’t you used to live somewhere around here a long time ago?”

  “Yes. I did.” She stepped away from the window before the woman could ask her any more questions.

  “She must have a sharp eye,” Scot murmured in a low voice. “You haven’t been back here in fourteen years.

  “I know. And when Becca came over to our booth last night, I was startled that she recognized me.”

  “I’ll go back to something I said last night. I wonder how many other people around here have read either of your books?”

  Before she could answer him, the inner door opened and Jeff Bartell’s big body filled the space.

  “Come in, Jenna. Let’s get this over with.”

  After acknowledging Scot with a brief nod, he stood aside so they could walk inside. As they followed the sheriff to his office in a far corner, Jenna noticed a small office on the right shared by the secretary and a man she thought might be the undersheriff. To the right, a larger office was filled with desks, about half of them currently occupied by deputies. Beyond that, an open space with more desks, a setup for dispatch and, on the far wall, doors leading to a couple of other rooms.

  Jeff Bartell held the door to his office open so they could precede him then closed it and moved to sit behind his desk. He gestured Jenna and Scot to the two wooden chairs opposite it then picked up a folder on his desk and placed it in front of him.