Bodyguards Boxed Set

by Julianne MacLean

  Gifford glanced at Cord.

  “Daddy?”

  Standing, Gifford shoved unsteady hands into his pockets. “I suppose it could have, honey, although I don’t remember the exact incident.”

  “Did she used to do my hair?”

  Gifford’s smile was so poignant, Cord felt guilt ricochet through him. “She loved doing your hair. You wore it long until you were about six. She used to braid it—” he glanced at Megan “—like you did Megan’s. Then you’d try to braid hers and you’d both end up giggling, usually on the ground.”

  “I never knew.” Stacey’s voice was clogged with suppressed tears.

  Cord tried to remain impassive, but it was hard when Webb looked at him again. He recalled his words to Webb.

  Do you realize how she’s done everything possible to be just the opposite of Helene... Why did you make Stacey hate her mother? If nothing else, you had to know how much Helene loved Stacey... Pretty selfish thing to do to your daughter.

  As if Webb remembered it, too, he nodded and turned to Stacey. “Honey, you had a lot of good times with your mother before she died. Would you like me to tell you about some of them?”

  “My mother died, too,” Megan said, drawing everyone’s attention.

  “We know, love.” Cord’s voice was soft.

  “I feel bad about it. Do you, Stacey?” Megan asked.

  Stacey looked at her father, then back to Megan. “Truthfully, honey, I never thought so. But I don’t know anymore.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  “SON OF A BITCH!” The blood oozed from Cord’s face, tinting the shaving cream a light pink. He was having a hard time concentrating on even the simplest task. In the few short weeks since he’d become Stacey’s bodyguard, all he seemed to be able to think about was her. And he’d had to admit to himself he was attracted to her. Wanted her. Worse yet, he liked her, and respected the person she had become in spite of what he’d done to her life.

  Which was why he’d planned to bring a date tonight.

  Nasty thing to do to her on her birthday.

  It’s for her own good .

  Quickly Cord rinsed his face, then reached for the small towel. When he brought it to his nose, he inhaled Stacey’s scent. She must have used it earlier when she’d showered and dressed for the evening.

  And what a night it would be. Cord had absolutely refused to allow a birthday celebration at a local restaurant. Everyone—except Matthews—had understood. Apparently, he’d planned some big shindig at Canfield Country Club. Instead, they were having a catered dinner at the Webb home. Stacey hadn’t seemed to mind the change in plans, but her fiancé had been miffed.

  There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Cord, I left my ring in there. Are you decent?”

  “No.”

  There was silence.

  Quickly, he pulled on the cutoffs he’d shucked earlier and yanked open the door.

  An impish smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t worry, tough guy, I wasn’t trying to catch a glimpse of you naked.”

  “No sass, lady.”

  Stacey ducked into the bathroom, which was easily the size of Megan’s bedroom, but seemed minuscule whenever they occupied it simultaneously. Retrieving her ring, she slipped it on, then faced him. Before he realized what she was doing, she reached for a tissue and blotted the blood on his face. The smell of her lotion, powder and shampoo wafted up, teasing him. His bare chest heaved and he was terrified she’d see the effects of her nearness.

  “You cut yourself. What were you thinking about?”

  Fuck! “My date.”

  Stacey’s hand froze. “You have a date tonight?”

  “Yeah, didn’t I tell you?”

  “No, you didn’t”

  “Oh, well, your father said to go ahead and ask someone.”

  Stacey swallowed hard. “You never told me you were dating anyone.”

  Cord stepped back, trying hard to ignore the hurt in her voice. She’d already confessed her feelings for him that night in the den. “I didn’t realize I had to clear my social calendar with you.”

  “Of course you don’t. I didn’t mean that. So, who is this mystery woman?”

  “Eileen Martin.”

  “Daddy’s lawyer?”

  “Well, she works for Rossettie and Rossettie.”

  Leaning back on the sink, Stacey crossed her arms over her chest. “How long have you been seeing her?”

  “Two years, on and off.”

  “How on and off?”

  “Stacey, this isn’t really any of your business.” He picked up his watch from the vanity. “Look, it’s getting late.”

  She bit her lip and said nothing for several long seconds. “All right.” Pushing away from the sink, she stepped toward the door.

  “Stacey?” She turned. “Thanks for asking Megan tonight.”

  Her smile was tender. “Megan and I are buddies.”

  “Soul mates, you mean.” For the first time, he noticed her outfit. “At least I thought you were. What’s with the Victorian dress? You only wear that stuff to work.”

  Stacey tugged at the high collar of the classic white sheath she wore. “Preston likes this dress. I thought I’d wear it for him.”

  Cord’s stomach muscles clenched. “Soothing ruffled feathers?”

  “Something like that. Anyway, I’ll fit in better with Eileen.” Then she asked, “How’s Megan getting here?”

  “Eileen’s picking her up.” He stared past Stacey’s shoulder. “They’re close.”

  Stacey stepped back, as if he’d delivered a blow, then left the bathroom without another word.

  He slammed his hand on the vanity. He was doing this for her own good. His reaction to her was getting out of hand, and he had to do something quick before he did something stupid. Like kiss the hurt from her face. Like ease the tension from her shoulders with a long slow massage. Like…he cut off the rest of the thought.

  Oh, yeah, right, McKay. And just imagine the repercussions of that little fantasy when she finds out you bedded her mother.

  * * *

  “EVERYTHING LOOKS GREAT, Daddy.” Stacey tried to infuse some enthusiasm into her voice. She’d been looking forward to the small, intimate gathering—until about an hour ago.

  Gifford touched her shoulder. “Sorry about canceling the bash at the country club.”

  Stacey shook her head. “Don’t be. You know that’s not my style. Preston was more upset about it than I was.”

  Her father peered at her closely. “Things aren’t good between you two, are they?”

  “No. He isn’t dealing with all this very well. And he doesn’t like Cord very much.”

  “McKay’s a hard man, Stacey.”

  “Do you like him, Dad?”

  “I appreciate his helping us.”

  “But?”

  “I respect his skill.” He glanced over to where Cord sat with his daughter on his lap, the lush Eileen Martin at his elbow. “But like him? No, I don’t.”

  Stacey watched Eileen lean over, her hand on Cord’s knee, and whisper something in his ear. He laughed and she blushed. “Well, Eileen Martin clearly likes him. I wouldn’t have thought she was his type.”

  Her father’s jaw locked.

  “Daddy? What’s wrong?”

  Before he could answer, Lauren and Mark Dunn wandered over.

  “Happy Birthday, Stacey,” Lauren said brightly, kissing her friend on the cheek.

  “Thanks. Hi, Mark.”

  “Hi. Happy Birthday.” Thank God Mark didn’t try to kiss her, too. She really disliked the man because he treated Lauren so badly.

  As they chatted, Stacey studied Mark, wondering for the hundredth time what her friend found appealing about the guy. His face was shadowed—he was obviously trying to grow a beard. Dressed in black, he was about Cord’s size, but his bulk seemed threatening to Stacey. Probably because she strongly suspected he’d used it on Lauren.

  “The place looks
great, Gifford. Did you decorate it?” Lauren asked.

  “Yes.”

  “All your favorite colors, Stacey,” her friend commented wistfully.

  Stacey felt a sharp pang of sympathy for Lauren, whose father had never done anything for her except teach her that men like Mark Dunn were attractive.

  Preston joined the group, snaking an arm around Stacey’s waist. “Hi, everyone. Doesn’t the birthday girl look great?”

  Stacey’s eyes strayed to Megan. Now, there was a great outfit. A fuchsia sundress over a lime green tank top and sneakers. The colors contrasted sharply with Eileen Martin’s burgundy suit. She and Megan couldn’t be all that close.

  From across the room Stacey saw Cord focus on Preston’s embracing arm, then she caught Cord’s eye. His gaze locked briefly with hers. When he looked away, he lifted his hand and rested it on the couch behind his date. His fingers toyed with her thick auburn hair.

  Stacey reached up to push her own mop out of her eyes.

  “You need a haircut, babe,” Preston said affectionately. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair this long.”

  “I know. I’m weeks overdue. Things have just been so hectic. And frankly, I haven’t wanted to ask Cord to sit in a beauty parlor for an hour after work.”

  Preston tensed. “He’s getting paid enough to sit in a damned sauna for an hour, if you want him to.”

  A fantasy, starring Cord’s sweat-soaked, all-male flesh, swamped Stacey.

  “I like Stacey’s hair longer.” Gifford reached out and ruffled her locks. “It reminds me of when she was little. It was always a riot of curls around her face and shoulders then. It looks good, honey.”

  Stacey’s gaze drifted to Eileen Martin’s long auburn hair.

  Maybe Stacey wouldn’t cut hers.

  When Cord saw the table set for dinner, he groaned. He’d been hoping for a buffet. An almost-five-year-old didn’t need a formal, sit-down meal at nine o’clock at night. He’d have to spend most of his time watching that she didn’t soil the crisp linen tablecloth or break the Steuben crystal that graced each place setting.

  Stacey sat down at the middle of the table, so Cord chose a seat at the far end. He pulled a chair out for Eileen, then one for Megan, who shook her head. “I want to sit next to Stacey.”

  “No, honey, I need you near me. Stacey’s got—”

  Mischief lit the birthday girl’s face. “I’ve got a place reserved for Ms. Megan McKay right here,” Stacey called out, pointing to her left.

  Cord’s heart flip-flopped when he saw a grin split Megan’s face. She squirmed away from him, yanked the tablecloth in the process and barely avoided taking several pieces of sterling silver with her.

  Sighing, Cord sank into his chair. Eileen leaned into him. Her perfume was summer-night sultry, but it didn’t turn him on. Not in the slightest. Funny how baby powder seemed to do the trick these days.

  “She’s fine, Cord. Relax.” Under the table, Eileen stroked his thigh. “I don’t suppose I’m going to get a chance to do that for you tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Relax you.” Eileen’s green eyes sparkled with sexual promise.

  Cord tried to participate. Maybe that was it, he just wasn’t trying. He leaned closer to her. “Would you like that, Eileen?”

  Her face flushed becomingly. “You know I would.”

  Cord laughed, and even to his own ears, the sound was low and sexy. When he glanced up, he saw Stacey staring at them. Sparks flamed in her big brown eyes. Cord felt interested in sex, all right. But with the wrong woman. The one woman in the world he could never have. He reached for the glass of red wine by his plate and took two long gulps. The drink didn’t help. Instead, it intensified the heat inside him, fueling it. He wished he could take Eileen up on her offer, but he knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t make love to one woman when he wanted another.

  Halfway through dinner, disaster struck. Megan was pushing the glazed duck around her plate as if it was a toy instead of food. Cord was just about to tell her to eat her vegetables, when her fork slipped. Duck a l’orange slid off the plate. Hiking up onto her knees, Megan reached over to get it. Simultaneously, Stacey lifted her wineglass from the table. Right arm bumped left arm and the Beaujolais splashed down the front of Preston’s favorite white dress.

  Megan gasped, and her tearful eyes sought her father. As he scraped back his chair and rounded the table, he saw Stacey stretch out her hand to Megan’s neck and squeeze it gently. Cord just reached them, when Preston said, “Damn it, Stacey, the wine is all over you. I told you a kid shouldn’t be at a dinner like this.”

  Anger licked at Cord as he yanked back Megan’s chair, dislodging Stacey’s hand. He said nothing as he scooped up his daughter, drew her into his chest and strode out of the dining room. He found his way to the back of the house and onto the dimly lit patio. Sinking into a lounge chair, he cuddled his softly weeping child in his lap.

  Gently he crooned nonsense words to her for a few minutes. When she quieted, he said, “Did I ever tell you about the time I was a waiter at a restaurant?” Megan shook her head. “I was serving at a wedding, and poured coffee down the front of the bride’s white dress.”

  Megan looked up at him with owl eyes.

  “It’s true, honey. I felt bad like you do now. But accidents happen.”

  “What did the bride say?” he heard from behind him.

  Megan and he both pivoted in the chaise to see Stacey at the French doors. The moon cast her in half light, but Cord could make out the red stain radiating from the center of her dress.

  “She was very nice about it,” Cord said. “I offered to pay for the cleaning bill, but she wouldn’t let me.”

  “Can we get Stacey’s dress fixed, Daddy?” Megan asked.

  Stacey crossed the patio and sat down on the edge of their chair. She was so close, Cord could see she’d bitten off the small amount of lipstick she’d applied earlier.

  “Meggie? Don’t offer to do that, okay?” Stacey said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I really hate this dress. I only wore it for Preston.” She winked. “Now that it’s ruined, I never have to wear it again.”

  Megan looked over at Stacey hopefully, but her little body remained tense.

  “Now, if it had been my peacock blue sequined dress, I might be mad. Have you ever seen that one?”

  Megan shook her head.

  Stacey stood. “Want to come look at it? I have to change, anyway. Maybe I’ll put that one on. It’s my favorite.” She looked at Cord. “I should have worn my favorite dress, anyway, since it’s my birthday.”

  “You won’t get an argument from me,” Cord said hoarsely.

  Stacey stood, picked up Megan from the chair and headed for the house.

  “Stace?” Cord called to her.

  The two turned to look at him. The moon shimmered around their heads, casting them both in a soft halo.

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  GLUMLY, STACEY STARED at the adjoining door to Cord’s room. When she’d finished getting ready for bed, she’d noticed a sliver of light from underneath his door and couldn’t resist the lure. Decent enough in baseball pajamas, she raised her hand to knock, then hesitated. What was she doing?

  She’d seen Cord kiss Eileen Martin good-night. After everyone had left, Stacey had gone up to her room, and without turning on any lights, had been about to close the blinds on the window that faced the front of the house, when she’d heard Eileen’s sensual laugh waft up from the driveway below. Entranced, Stacey had looked down to see Cord secure an already-sleeping Megan in the back of Eileen’s car, shut the door and turn to the mature, smart, sophisticated woman. Eileen had lost no time in circling her arms around Cord’s neck, pulling his head down and covering his mouth with hers. Then, Cord had taken over. With his whole body. Stacey had watched him fit the other woman to him, banding his arms around her. Though she’d felt like a voyeur, she couldn’t look away. The kiss had go
ne on for a long time...

  Stacey knocked on the door.

  “Come in.” His tone was the one men used when you interrupted them watching a baseball game. Well, too bad. She wasn’t any too pleased about the events of the evening, either.

  When she opened the door, he was sitting on his bed reading, dressed in low-slung fleece shorts and dark wire-rimmed glasses. And nothing else. Her mouth went dry but she managed to say, “I just want to say good-night.”

  His jaw tight, Cord stared at her, then set the book down on the mattress. “Did you have a nice birthday?”

  “It was okay.” She crossed fully into the room. “Can I sit down for a minute?”

  He nodded.

  She sank onto the bed, a safe distance from him.

  “Did Megan ruin it for you?”

  “No, of course not. Preston did.”

  Cord sat up straight. “Stacey, how did you ever end up with him? He doesn’t seem like your type.”

  He was, until now . “He fit right into my plans.”

  “Plans?”

  “Yeah. A carefully ordered life with no surprises and few risks has always been a priority for me.”

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “Oh, Cord it’s such a cliché.”

  “What is?”

  “It’s because of Helene. She was reckless and ruined a lot of lives in the process. I decided if I was careful, and safe, I wouldn’t end up like she did.”

  “And Preston?”

  “Is careful and safe. Unfortunately, he’s also stubborn and inflexible. I was furious at his crack about Megan. I’ll never forgive him for that.”

  “Did you fight before he left? I thought I heard raised voices in the den.”

  “Yes, and it was another beauty.”

  “Sorry.”

  Picking at the threads of the quilt, Stacey asked, “What about you? Did you have a good time?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did Eileen?”

  “I don’t want to discuss Eileen,” he said tightly.

  “Why? You know all about Preston.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “I saw you kiss her.”

  “Spying on us, little girl?”