by Nika Rhone
It was this latest gift, though, that had Doyle concerned. Not only was it Thea’s favorite brand of chocolate, it was her favorite collection as well, loaded with the brand’s signature burnt caramel. Definitely not something you picked up at the corner drug store.
That inferred an intimate knowledge of Thea’s likes and habits that made Doyle uneasy. The fact that the accompanying letter had been more detailed and graphic than any of the others made him angry. Add that to the fact that the “gift” had to have been slipped into the Fordhams’ groceries in person, and he was downright disturbed.
“I still think we should tell her there have been more.” Red scowled. More after the first letter, he meant, which she’d gotten and read. Thankfully, that one hadn’t been as sexually explicit as the ones that followed. It had been more of an overture, an introduction, letting her know she had an admirer. But it weirded her out enough that she’d brought it straight to Doyle, despite her embarrassment over the content.
Stubborn she might be, but Thea was no fool.
Doyle shook his head. “Her father doesn’t want her exposed to the garbage in those letters.” Neither did he, but that didn’t mean he agreed with Frank Fordham’s decision. They’d had one hell of a disagreement over it, and Doyle had come very close to losing his job. Only the thought that he wouldn’t be around to help protect Thea if that happened had made him shut his mouth and agree to go along with Frank’s lie.
“I didn’t say let her read them. Just let her know the basics. Some creep has fixated on her, and she needs to be more cautious when she goes out.”
“She already knows she needs to be careful, and she’s got someone with her whenever she’s off the grounds.”
“Right, like she’s never ditched a bodyguard before.”
“She won’t. We made a deal.”
Red looked surprised before an understanding glint lit his eye. “So that’s why Poole’s been sulking the past few days. She bargained him off her detail.”
“Something like that.”
Running a hand through his distinctive brush-cut hair, Red let out a long breath. “You’re probably right. Still, I know if it were me, I’d want to know there was a reason to watch my six. She’ll be pretty ticked about being kept in the dark when she finds out.”
Ticked didn’t begin to cover Thea’s reaction if she ever found out what they were keeping from her. If there was one thing she didn’t tolerate, it was lying. “With luck, she’ll never know anything about it.”
Chapter Three
When Doyle departed the security cottage a short while later, it was with Red’s words still ringing in his ears.
The agent at the camera console had told him that Thea had left a message that she wanted to speak with him when it was convenient. A quick check showed he could find her with the other two members of the Royal Court at the swimming pool behind the house, so he headed in that direction as he mulled over the situation.
The hell of it was, Red was right. The more Thea knew, the safer she would be. And while Frank had been appalled by the letters that arrived before he left—hence his gag order—he would no doubt be even more crazed by the letters and gifts that had arrived while he’d been in the middle of the African wilderness and out of touch for all but the direst of emergencies. A man smart enough to build a multimillion-dollar empire in ten short years was smart enough to know that no situation remained static.
And this one hadn’t.
The appearance of gifts as well as the sender’s now probable presence in Boulder, as implied by the chocolates, changed everything. The whack job had gone from admiring from afar to courting with flowers and candy, at least in his own sick mind, and that made him a thousand times more dangerous than he had been before. Frank would have to agree that as things sat now, his edict was no longer the safest possible choice.
The sound of laughter and splashing brought him out of his musings. Leaving behind the shadows of the graveled path as he stepped onto the polished flagstones of the pool surround, Doyle paused to slip on his sunglasses while his eyes made an unconscious circuit of the area.
Amelia Westlake sat on a chaise in the sun, her pale skin gleaming with sunscreen. Lillian Beaumont was sprawled in the hot tub, her short hair spiked up in front from the steam, her hands flying as she held a boisterous conversation with Thea, who was treading water in the middle of the free-formed pool. Thea laughed, throwing her head back as the throaty sound echoed between the waterfall and the tiled walls.
Entranced as much by the sound as the sight, Doyle found himself unable to look away from Thea as she splashed a wave at Lillian, who screeched as the cooler pool water rained over her. Avoiding retribution, Thea dove. Her long strokes brought her to the end of the pool, where she broke the surface and laughed again. With her thick chestnut hair slicked back from her face and the wide grin she wore, she reminded Doyle of a mischievous otter.
Damn. How could he tell her the truth now? She looked happier than she had in weeks. Months, actually. The specter of fear and uncertainty over her mother’s surgery had weighed on her heavily, especially when she found out her mother knew about the tumor for several months and hadn’t said anything until right before the operation.
Even after the biopsies had come back negative, Thea remained a bit too solemn, a little too cautious around her parents, as though she felt guilty for being away when her mother got sick. It had been one of the reasons Evelyn agreed to the trip, not just for her own benefit, but to give Thea the chance to accept that everything was fine, and that life could go back to normal for everyone.
Did he have the right to take that from her? No. He couldn’t do it. Not right now, anyway. Not until he knew something for sure. Depending on what Sam and Kirsten learned at the grocer, he’d reconsider defying her father’s orders. But for now, he’d keep his silence. Thea was too happy. She was enjoying herself. She was…she was…
She was practically naked!
Fighting to draw breath into lungs that had suddenly seized, Doyle stared at the expanse of honey-gold skin that was exposed as Thea made her way up the steps out of the pool. His first thought was that she’d lost her bikini bottoms somewhere during her swim, since her toned, taut buttocks were right there for the world to see, water glistening on the delicious globes like diamonds on silk.
No, not delicious. Doyle shoved the word away, but he was less successful in dragging his gaze from Thea’s body, which on some dim level he now realized was encased in a thong bikini. A very small, very indecent thong bikini. Pale gold, just a few shades off her skin tone. God, what was she thinking wearing something like that? And what was he thinking, looking at her while she was wearing something like that? It was…
Doyle bit back a groan as Thea toweled herself dry. It was too much, that’s what it was. Once more he tried to look away, but his eyes seemed to have abdicated from his brain and refused to come to heel, staying greedily on Thea’s unconscious erotic motions as she dried first her barely concealed breasts and then her firm, tanned stomach, and her long, long legs. First one and then the other, from hip to knee to ankle, down the front and then up the back.
By the time she was done, Doyle was certain that every drop of blood in his body had headed south of the border and planned to make camp. Indefinitely.
The realization that he’d just gotten a hard-on from watching little Thea Fordham run a towel over her tight young body was what allowed him to drag his wayward libido back under control. Guilt rolled through him, dampening his ardor, even though his erection was going to take a bit longer to tame. Thankful for his loose-fitting khakis, Doyle wiped the mental drool from his chin and resumed walking.
Thea spotted him first. She smiled and called out a greeting but didn’t pause in her application of sunscreen. Afraid that any smile he attempted might come out as a leer, Doyle settled for a nod in return, trying hard to ignore the sensuous movement of her hands.
“You left a message you wanted to see me. Is anythin
g wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I didn’t mean for you to rush right over. Anytime would have been fine.”
Ignoring for the moment the realization that he had rushed right over when he heard she wanted to speak to him, Doyle asked, “What’s up?”
“We,” Thea waved her hand to include her two friends, “decided we want to do a girl trip before Mellie gets too bogged down in her wedding plans, but I wanted to check with you about it before we made too many plans, seeing as how I’m pretty much under house arrest and everything.”
The smell of coconut filled the air, making Doyle’s mouth water. “You’re not under house arrest and you know it, so stop making it sound worse than it is.” Behind his sunglasses, Doyle had to struggle to keep his eyes on Thea’s face rather than her hand, which was now applying a layer of the scented lotion to her stomach. “What kind of trip did you have in mind?”
“We haven’t reached a consensus yet. Lil wants to spend a week in New York, seeing sights by day, hitting some shows and clubs by night at her usual run-till-you-drop vacation pace.”
Already mentally tallying the security nightmare a trip to New York City would create, Doyle asked, “What are your other choices?”
“I’m leaning toward a week somewhere in the Caribbean,” Thea replied. “Someplace warm and slow paced, where all you have to do is lay on the beach and catch up on your daydreaming.” A dreamy look crossed her face. “A morning swim in turquoise water as warm as a bath, an afternoon nap on sun-warmed sand, dinner on an outdoor patio with the sea breeze kissing the air…” Thea sighed. “That’s the perfect vacation.”
Try as he might, Doyle couldn’t stop watching the slow circles her hand was making as it passed over her ribcage and dipped down toward her waist and the almost-there bikini bottom, her movements taking on the slow, hypnotic cadence of her voice. “Perfect,” he murmured, surprised to find his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “That sounds like a nice vacation to me.”
“Put like that, I may have to change my vote.” Lillian appeared at the chaise next to Amelia and grabbed her towel. “Although you did leave out the best part.” She gave a gamine grin. “Lots of buff, sun-drenched men in Speedos.”
Okay, maybe not so nice.
“Maybe we could even hit one of those clothing-optional resorts and get the full monty,” Lillian said.
Hell. New York was looking better and better, logistical nightmare and all.
“I’m not so sure I’d be at all comfortable with a place like that,” Amelia said with a tentative frown.
Good girl. Doyle waited for Thea to second that sensible opinion. Instead, she looked a bit thoughtful, as if she were mulling over all the possibilities.
Damn the girl! What was she playing at? Those kinds of resorts didn’t exactly offer Bacchanalian orgies as evening entertainment, but things were still apt to get a little wilder than any of these three innocents were prepared to handle.
“Amelia’s right,” Thea said, finally. “We shouldn’t do anything that would make her uncomfortable.”
Make her uncomfortable? Meaning she, Thea, wouldn’t be? Doyle almost opened his mouth to say something when Thea spoke again.
“We could always find one that has a separate clothing-optional beach. I’m sure I read about a few of those, where whoever wants to go au naturel can be private from the rest of the guests. That way everybody’s happy.”
“Not everyone,” Doyle muttered to himself.
His hope that Amelia would offer another objection was dashed when she grinned and nodded. “Then you two can go off and be as adventurous as you want without me holding you back. Perfect!”
“That’s two votes for fun in the sun. Lil?”
Lillian plopped down on her chaise and slipped on her sunglasses. “Count me in.”
“The islands it is.” Thea looked at Doyle.
He gritted his teeth. “When would you want to go?” It was tough, but he managed to keep all of his aggravation out of his tone. Or, at least he thought he did. When Thea cocked her head, he wondered how well he’d succeeded after all.
“The next few weeks, maybe,” Thea said. “It’s really up to Mellie, since I’m still unemployed and Lil makes her own hours at the gallery when there aren’t any showings scheduled.”
Amelia shrugged. “Anytime is fine with me, as long as it keeps me from having to hear the words ‘poll results’ and ‘strategic positioning’ ten times a day.”
Doyle winced inwardly in sympathy for her, but it didn’t surprise him that Senator Davenport was planning to use the wedding to push his son’s political ambitions into the news. Amelia and Charles made an attractive couple. The magazines and tabloids were sure to be splashed cover-to-cover with “exclusive” photos of the event. Thea had mentioned that one of the top fashion magazines had already contacted Amelia about showcasing her wedding trousseau, and a travel magazine wanted to send a photographer with them on their honeymoon for some “candid” shots.
All of this when the happy couple still hadn’t officially announced their engagement yet.
Yeah, he could see where Amelia would need some breathing room. Still, he found he couldn’t like this idea of theirs. At all. Thea and naked beaches. That just wasn’t going to happen. “You do remember that our security concerns are high right now.”
“Yes, but—”
“I think it would be better if you put off your trip for a while.”
“For how long?”
“At least until after your parents are home.” Then Frank could deal with her crazy plans, not him.
Thea hesitated. “So…you only have a problem with the timing, not the trip itself?”
He had a dozen problems with it, but he’d cut out his own tongue before he admitted to any of them. Instead, he nodded.
Thea studied his face for a few long seconds and then sighed, her shoulders seeming to sag, as if she’d tensed for a fight that hadn’t come. “Well, okay then. Good.” The smile she flashed him seemed a little too bright. “It’ll be a blast.”
“With you three unleashed on the unsuspecting population of the Caribbean? It’ll definitely be something.” He looked at his watch, desperate for any excuse to get away before he lost the battle with his dick and let his eyes stray below Thea’s chin again. “I have to make some calls. Did you need anything else?”
The devilish turn of her lips should have warned him, but it was too late to call the words back. Thea held out the bottle of sunscreen, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Could you do my back before you go?”
Only self-preservation gave him the strength the step back when his hands practically itched to reach out for what was offered. “I…no.”
Without bothering to say goodbye to any of them, Doyle spun on his heel and retreated as fast as he could back toward the security cottage, his long legs putting distance between his rebellious body and the half-naked siren that was tempting him beyond all reason.
****
Thea collapsed onto her chaise with a groan. “Oh, God!”
“Well, that was interesting.” Amelia looked thoughtful as she sipped her iced tea.
“Oh, God!”
Lillian, who had followed Doyle’s hasty retreat with her sunglasses pulled low, pushed them back in place and grinned. “Most informative.”
“Oh, God!”
“When you’re done being tragically overdramatic, we can discuss our next plan of attack.”
Thea shot up into a sitting position. “No. No next plan. No attack. This was mortifying enough. I’m not about to make a fool out of myself a second time.”
Lillian laughed. “Sweetie, you didn’t make a fool out of yourself. You were brilliant!” Amelia nodded her agreement.
Thea scowled at them both. “Brilliant? In case you missed it, he didn’t even blink twice at any of it!” She glanced down at the teensy thong bikini Lillian had talked her into buying and had all but forced her into earlier. “I feel like an idiot.”
“Well, you don’t look like an idiot. You look hot,” Amelia said.
“Didn’t notice you?” Lillian said. “Girl, he damn near swallowed his tongue when he saw you!”
That got Thea’s attention. “He did?” It was hard to believe Doyle would ever have that much of a reaction to her, bikini or not, but it was certainly an ego-soothing thought. “Really?”
“Oh, please! Behind those shiny Oakleys, Doyle’s eyes were bugging out a mile trying not to look at the dish that is you.”
A small thrill of success trickled down Thea’s spine. “So he got shook after all, huh?”
“Like an earthquake.”
“He didn’t sound happy about our trip, did he?” Amelia frowned. “But he didn’t say you couldn’t go, either.”
“Well, he can’t come right out and say ‘Thea, I don’t want you exposing yourself to other men on a nude beach in the Caribbean,’ can he?” Lillian replied. “But he was thinking it. Oh yes, he was most definitely thinking it.”
“But he could have been thinking it in a big brother way,” Thea said, her brief moment of confidence already waning.
“Trust me, T, any thoughts that man had while you were rubbing sunscreen on yourself were definitely not of the big brother variety.”
Thea flushed, remembering how embarrassed she’d felt doing that. Oiling up her arms had been the only easy part, and that had been accomplished before Doyle closed the distance between them. Doing her upper chest had been unnerving, and by the time she’d gotten to her belly, she’d been trembling inside with a combination of nerves and unexpected arousal.
Looking at Doyle as she stroked her skin in long, lazy circles had been a disturbingly erotic experience. For her, at least. But for Doyle? She hadn’t thought it had affected him at all, but maybe Lillian was right. Maybe he’d been able to hide a lot behind those mirrored glasses. He was the king of the controlled expression.
