by Shayla Black
This place must have cost a fortune to rent. I won’t mind staying here for a week.
I haul Amanda’s bag into the corner and spot her and a pretty, petite brunette, who I presume is Masey, talking in the spacious bathroom. Both look through the wide, open arch to the spacious closet, where I see Oliver already stretched out on the floor, surrounded by pillows. I guess that will do until the crib arrives.
“Need anything else?” the brunette asks Amanda.
“Did you find a grocery store nearby? Or a delivery service?”
Masey fills her in on both. Trace introduces me to her before he starts hauling boxes out of what looks like an office space next to the master while his infant son babbles and shakes a soft toy from his bouncy seat in the corner.
On his way back in, I snag his attention. “Hey, man. Where did you stash my bag?”
I’d like to set my gun case down and begin to settle in. I definitely need to tour the place, assess its strengths and weaknesses, make any adjustments necessary for safety before night falls.
“Living room. I didn’t know where you’d want it. The spare bedrooms are on the other end of the house.” He thumbs in the opposite direction from the master.
That’s too far away from Amanda when she’s at her most vulnerable…but sleeping in the same room with her would be a bad, bad idea. “I’ll crash on the floor of that room next to hers.”
“Sure. If you need anything else, let me know. Griff and Britta said they’d be by after lunch to drop off the crib.”
Having anyone know our location isn’t optimal, but they have a crib and I don’t have a damn vehicle big enough to cart it. “Thanks. And thank Masey for giving us a safe place to crash. It’s above and beyond.”
He sends me a sly grin as he lifts another box. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t regret staying with me.”
Masey follows him out the door when a roadside assistance truck arrives to change a flat tire on Trace’s truck. His baby boy, Ranger, seems to have drifted off. Still not a peep from Oliver in the master closet.
But where the hell is Amanda? I tear through the house. She’s not in the master or the office beside it. She’s not in the living room, the expansive kitchen, or either of the spare bedrooms on the far side of the house. Alarm sets in after I scan the laundry room. She’s not in the garage, either.
My alarm turns to panic when I realize I’ve searched the entire house. It’s empty. Amanda is gone.
Fuck!
I stick my head out the front door. Trace, Masey, and a roadside assistance guy are all hovered around his truck as a flat comes off and the spare fits on. No Amanda there. I scan the house again, running from room to room—kitchen, laundry room, living room, office—shouting her name. At this point, I don’t give a shit if the little ones wake up. I need to find her.
My heart revs. Terrible possibilities start pelting my brain. Did someone follow us? Wait for the first moment I was distracted to seize her and drag her away against her will? Is she, even now, fighting off the asshole with the knife, struggling for her life?
“Amanda!”
Panic burns through my veins as I again see a still-sleeping Ranger in the office and Oliver undisturbed in the master closet. I try to remind myself that Amanda has fended off this guy before. She may be small, but she’s strong-willed. She’ll fight for herself. She’ll fight for her son.
But with me here, she shouldn’t have to, much less alone.
“Amanda!” I tear out of the master again and charge toward the hall. “Amanda!”
“What?” I hear her just before I round the corner. I find her standing in the middle of the hall, staring at me like she has no idea why I’m overreacting.
Multiple reactions hit me at once. Relief. Of course I’m thanking God she’s okay, but I’m still confused. Anger hits next, and I march straight for her. I’m damn near seething when I shove her against the nearest wall and pin her to it, planting my palm over her head. “Where the fuck did you go?”
“Out back. To see the beach.”
Is she kidding me? “Alone? Without telling me where you were off to?”
“I-I…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, but I see understanding cross her face.
“Didn’t think?”
“I’m not used to answering to anyone.”
“Get used to it.”
“Look, I hired you to keep me safe, not to be my—” She bites her lip like she knows better than to finish that sentence.
“Daddy?” I lean closer. Our eyes lock. “Is that what you were going to say?”
The air between us turns thick. I see her breasts rising and falling inches from my chest. Her rough breaths are audible. Her eyes dilate.
Do I scare her? Or is she aware that I’m not just a bodyguard, but a man?
Amanda raises her chin. “You’re not.”
It takes all my willpower not to touch her. “If you’re going to wander off alone when someone is out to kill you, I have no problem being yours.”
Footsteps stomp through the front door moments before Trace and Masey round the corner and spot us. I jerk back. Amanda looks away in embarrassment.
Trace clears his throat. “We just…um, need to grab Ranger and his gear from the office.”
“Sure.” I gesture him to the room at the end of the hall. I’m trying my damnedest not to look guilty, but I feel the thick sludge rolling through me, pushing the flash of anger from my veins.
Amanda didn’t need me to yell at her. We haven’t had time to cover ground rules and best practices. That didn’t stop me from jumping down her throat.
Maybe Ellie wasn’t all wrong about you being overprotective and possessive.
But this is worse. Way worse. Stronger. Maybe I’m just on edge—I hope that’s it—but not knowing that Amanda was safe did something to more than my temper.
Trace and Masey step past us and disappear into the office. An instant later, Amanda backs away from me, putting distance between us.
“I think I’ll just…get some water.” She whirls for the kitchen as if her ass is on fire.
It takes everything I have not to follow.
The silence is awkward as Trace and Masey emerge with Ranger, then disappear with a few mumbled words, closing the door behind them with a final click.
I let out a breath and scowl. I’ve botched everything, and I need to apologize.
On my way down the hall, I pass the front door, ensure it’s locked, then do the same with the double glass doors in the back overlooking the Pacific. Finally, I take a deep breath and get my shit under control before I head into the kitchen to see Amanda facing the sink, staring out the window. The glass in her hand is shaking.
I feel like a shit. “I’m sorry.”
She gives me a tight shake of her head. “You’re here to protect me, and I…wanted to see the ocean.”
Her explanation makes sense, but her hesitation as she voices her excuse tells me she’s lying. “I don’t believe you.”
That makes her turn and look my way. She sets her glass on the pristine white counter. “I have a lot on my mind.”
We’re getting closer to the truth, I sense. But that’s not everything. “Any of that have to do with me?”
“Why are you here?”
“For the money.”
“If that’s the case, why won’t you stay on the job beyond a week?” Her gaze drills me. “I suggested a sum that should have been more than acceptable. You didn’t even consider it. As long as you lie to me, I won’t feel bad about lying to you.”
Damn it. Every time I fall into the trap of thinking she’s soft and vulnerable, she proves she’s made of stronger stuff. “I’m not lying; I need the money. But I also came because I don’t like women or children being threatened.”
“I’m not asking the right questions. Why were you worried about me just now? Honestly.”
What is she pushing me for? “It would be better if I didn’t answer that. Once I tell you, you can’t un
know it.”
Our gazes connect, and electricity pings between us. Goose bumps flare across my skin. Desire kindles in my gut.
Her whisper is the match that sets me ablaze. “You want me.”
I could try to lie, but it won’t work. Amanda knows. The elephant is in the middle of the room. “I’ve already thought about stripping you naked and fucking you until you scream about a hundred times.”
She’s going to fire me now. I haven’t just crossed a line; I’ve stomped over it, backed up, and rolled over it a few more times for good measure. I deserve for her to show me the exit, slam the door behind me, and yell “good riddance.”
The last thing I expect is for her to lick her lips and glance my way. “And I’ve already thought a hundred times about letting you.”
Oh, holy shit.
I scrub my hand across my face. How the fuck am I going to stay off of her now that I know what I’m craving is mutual? “You went outside to put distance between us?”
She nods. “I needed to. We both know giving in to this would be a terrible idea.”
“The worst.”
“Beyond stupid.”
“Catastrophic.”
But that doesn’t stop me from prowling closer. Amanda steps back. I need to respect the distance she’s putting between us. I shouldn’t follow her. But I can’t stop myself from lunging into her personal space. She edges away again, until the counter at her back stops her.
She has nowhere else to go.
A smile that isn’t comforting curls across my face. “All you have to do is tell me to back off.”
“Why should I have to? You should give me space, regardless.”
Her trembling voice does something to me. Not because she’s afraid. I know she’s not. Because that, along with her darting gaze, tells me my nearness affects her.
“I should, but I still want to hear you say it—and mean it.”
Amanda presses her lips together, refusing to say anything at all.
Thrill spikes through my blood. I shuffle closer until our chests brush. Until I see her pulse beating frantically at her neck. Until I feel her choppy breaths on my lips.
I lean forward and brace my hands on the counter on either side of her hips. “Nothing to say?”
“I’d rather not lie.”
Fuck, her pouty pink lips are less than a whisper away, and it takes all my self-control not to fasten my mouth over hers and eat her whole. “It’s a good thing you didn’t. What the hell are we going to do stuck together for a whole week?”
“Be adults and ignore it.” Amanda nudges me aside and tries to walk away.
I should let her. But the devil in me won’t let it go.
I grab her arm and yank her back to me. “Is that really what you want?”
Chapter Four
“My last relationship taught me to stop thinking about what I want and start thinking about what I need.”
She means Barclay. What did that bastard do to her?
Yeah, Amanda has only asked me to be her bodyguard, and I should leave it there. I shouldn’t care about her broken heart or the way she’s barricaded it against me. But I do. And I have a feeling that I need to understand exactly what happened between her and her lover thirty-three years her senior to understand her. Unfortunately, there’s no way in hell she’s ready to tell me now.
No matter how much it chafes, I need to be patient.
I watch her go as she disappears into the master bedroom, shutting the door between us. The pipes and pelting water tell me she’s taking a shower. Soon afterward, I hear the whir of mechanical blinds descending. Then silence. I use the opportunity to locate an inflatable mattress in the hall closet and situate it in the office beside the master. I make sure my firearms are both ready and up high where Oliver can never reach them. I text Stephen Lund my number so he can talk to me about his sister, then sit down to start an online grocery order.
Not three minutes later, my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number, but it has a 212 prefix. New York. I’d bet a hundred bucks that Stephen didn’t like what he heard from me earlier, so he ran his displeasure up the family flagpole. Now Lund Senior is probably ringing to ream me out.
“Tanner Kirk.”
“Douglas Lund here.”
The guy sounds commanding. Rich and powerful. Like someone I shouldn’t fuck with.
How on earth did he let a dirty old man, even a supposed friend like Barclay Reed, debauch his daughter?
“What can I do for you, sir?”
Now comes the part where he growls and warns me away from Amanda. Probably threatens me, too.
“Is Amanda nearby?”
“Sleeping. After the intruder last night, she didn’t get much rest.” I hope like hell he doesn’t ask me to wake her.
“Good. I want to talk to you.”
That isn’t an encouraging sign, either. “I’m listening. I know you must be worried about your daughter—”
“Very much.”
“I know your son and I had a…contentious conversation this morning—”
“Stephen doesn’t always focus on what’s important. Do I wish I knew you and your reputation better? Of course. Am I more worried about my daughter’s virtue than her safety? No.”
“I assure you she’s in good hands. I’ve been a bodyguard for more than one Colorado State senator and even the former governor for a spell.” I don’t mention that was nearly fifteen years ago. “I’m damn good with a gun, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Amanda and Oliver stay safe.”
“How much has she offered to pay you?”
“Five thousand for this week. That’s as long as I can stay. She’ll be looking to replace me after that.”
“I see,” he drawls, and behind those words I sense he’s gearing up for something more… “Tanner. Can I call you that?”
“Sure.” I don’t give a fuck. I just want to know what he’s after.
“It didn’t take me five minutes to dig into you. I know you ran a successful gun range once upon a time, which you had to sell to pay off your soon-to-be ex-wife after you filed for divorce. I know you’re nearly thirty-nine, broke, and don’t have a place to live. I’m guessing you took this job because you don’t know where to go or what to do with your life next.”
He’s mischaracterizing me—and rubbing me the wrong way. “What’s your point?”
“Amanda doesn’t have a dime to her name right now. She thinks she’ll simply cajole me later into paying your fee, and I’ll assure her I will. But how much you make from your time with her is up to you.”
My gut tightens. “I don’t follow.”
“Amanda doesn’t belong in Hawaii with my illegitimate daughter and all my former friend’s offspring. I need to do what I should have after she graduated college, and that’s help her find the right future.”
“Why didn’t you get involved then?” I can’t keep the accusation out of my tone.
“It’s a fair question, especially since it seems you’re looking after her.” He tries to sound reasonable.
I’m not buying it. “I am.”
“To be honest, I thought she was a grown woman. She had a college degree in hand and she’d always been a good girl. Stayed out of trouble. Rarely dated. Never partied. Never gave me any reason to suspect she lacked the common sense needed to sidestep Barclay Reed’s womanizing ways. As such, when she graduated, I let her adult. It was a regrettable mistake on my part since all hell broke loose.”
I understand his perspective. Who wouldn’t think their college graduate able to handle their office job and their love life when they’d never shown any hint of being inept or reckless? But I don’t agree with his notion that Amanda making choices he doesn’t approve of gives him carte blanche to control her life. She was, after all, an adult. It was her life to ruin.
“What are you proposing?”
“There’s a man here in New York, one she’s known since they were kids. Son of a good family. Bruce has b
een in love with Amanda since, well, probably puberty. He’ll marry her tomorrow and take care of Oliver, too. All she has to do is say yes and come home.”
It may be that simple in his eyes, but there’s a reason Amanda isn’t with Bruce now. “How does she feel about him?”
“You know how women can be. Stubborn mules with lipstick.” He laughs, but it’s forced.
I’m offended on women’s behalf, especially Amanda’s. She’s stubborn, but not without reason. And she certainly isn’t a fucking mule.
“Anyway,” Lund goes on. “She hasn’t given Bruce a fair shake. She’s always considered him more like an older brother. When they were teenagers, that was great. But she’s twenty-six now and a mother. He’s thirtyish and worth half a billion dollars. He’s prepared to take care of her. She just needs the right incentive to let him.”
“So what is it you want me to do?”
“I’ll pay you fifty thousand dollars if you’ll let Bruce visit her there in Maui so he can convince her to come home and get respectably married. There’s an extra ten grand in it for you if she agrees to his proposal in the next three days.”
Is he crazy? “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think—”
“Do us both a favor and save the speech. This is one time you shouldn’t think with your morals, son. Think with your wallet.”
I grip my phone, bristling. “I’m not your son, and I’d appreciate you not telling me how to think.”
He gives me the forced laugh again. “You misunderstand. Figure of speech.”
“Amanda’s future should be her decision.”
“Well, you see how good her decisions are when she’s left to her own devices. It’s come to my attention that she looked to Barclay Reed to be her ‘daddy’ because I didn’t pay enough attention to her as a kid or something like that.”
“That’s Stephen’s theory.” Personally, I think Amanda has felt alone and overwhelmed, so she’s been looking for a partner, not someone to give her milk and braid her hair.
“Maybe he’s right. I was busy with work, and resented the hell out of her mother for tricking me into getting pregnant as an insurance policy against divorce. But none of that was Amanda’s fault, and if I didn’t give her the guidance she needed as a child, rest assured I will now.”
