Guardian Groom

by Shelley Cooper

  “No,” she denied quickly. Too quickly. “Of course not.”

  A three-year-old could see through that feeble lie, he thought on a sudden surge of irritation. She was the one who had always complained that he wouldn’t talk to her, yet she couldn’t be bothered to share with him the one small fact that his flute playing annoyed her?

  “If it bothered you so much, you should have said something.”

  Her chin went up in the defensive gesture he knew so well. “I already told you, it doesn’t bother me. In fact, your playing is quite beautiful. It’s just...sometimes it keeps me awake.”

  She really did look exhausted. Her face was pale, and she had dark smudges under her eyes. For a man who was supposed to be so observant, it had taken him an embarrassing amount of time to realize that she hadn’t been sleeping any better than he had.

  Paradoxically, her weariness only made her seem more beautiful to him. And, paradoxically, for as much as she’d hurt him in the past, he wanted her more than ever.

  Maybe it was because she needed him, really needed him, for the first time. Maybe it was just lust, because it had been so long since he’d been with a woman. Or maybe he needed to be near her because once her biggest fan was found and somehow neutralized she’d be gone from his life for good.

  Was it just his flute playing, or was there something else keeping her awake? Was it thoughts of her biggest fan, or was, perhaps, her sleeplessness due to his presence in her home? Steve couldn’t stem the ridiculous hope that it would be the latter.

  His irritation drained out of him, leaving a burning sensation in his chest and a longing for the bottle of antacid that was a mile away in the den. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t realize the music carried so far.”

  She gave him a tired smile. “You don’t have to apologize. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

  That was certainly the truth. If he’d wanted to keep her awake purposely, he would have found a more inventive—and much more intimate—way to do so. And, afterward, they both would have slept like babies.

  Stop it! he ordered himself sternly. You’ve got to keep your wits about you. You’ve got to stop thinking about her like this. She’s a client, nothing more.

  If he was smart, he’d say good-night and shut his bedroom door, putting some much-needed space between them. These were the dangerous hours, the time between dusk and dawn when defenses were down and the impossible seemed possible. Even though he knew he should, he was loath to leave her.

  “They really are something, aren’t they?” he asked, just to keep the conversation going.

  Her brow furrowed. “Who?”

  “Mrs. Edmund and Clara Mae.”

  “They’re something, all right,” she agreed with a chuckle. “When Clara Mae spelled out ‘prophylactic,’ I thought I was going to lose it.”

  His answering laughter echoed off the walls in the small hallway. “Now you know how I felt when Mrs. Edmund turned the conversation from social to sexual intercourse.”

  “Boy, do I ever,” she said with a wide grin.

  Steve felt a pang squeeze his heart. This was too much like old times. How he missed this kind of sharing with her, the laughter that, in the beginning anyway, had never seemed far away. He hadn’t expected to share a moment like this with her again.

  “This evening didn’t turn out at all the way I thought it would,” he found himself saying.

  Her answer sounded heartfelt. “You can say that again.” Yawning behind one hand, she reached the other toward her bedroom door. “If you want to play your flute tonight, you don’t have to worry about keeping me awake. I’m so tired, I think I’d sleep through an air-raid siren.”

  “You do look exhausted.”

  Kate turned to face her bedroom door, but not before Steve saw the self-mocking gleam in her eyes. “Just what a woman wants to hear from a man.”

  Though the words were offered in a teasing manner, they cut straight through him. His hands clenched at his sides, and he felt a nerve pulse in his cheek. A man could only take so much, and no more. She’d left him, after all. What right had she to complain, even in jest, that he wasn’t speaking to her in the manner she wanted?

  “What do you want to hear from me, Kate?” he asked in a low voice. “How beautiful I think you are? How I haven’t been able to touch another woman since you left me? How I still want you so badly I ache? Just what exactly do you want to hear from me?”

  Slowly, her movements wary, she turned to face him. “I didn’t mean—”

  “To goad me?” he cut in roughly, before automatically biting back his sudden surge of temper. When he was in control again, all that remained was a residue of frustration, a feeling that was becoming too familiar since he’d agreed to be her bodyguard. At least that feeling he could handle.

  Why this woman? he wondered. Why did Kate have the power no other woman possessed to rob him of his reason and steal his soul?

  Her continued silence told him that she didn’t want to take the discussion further, but he wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “You invited Clara Mae and Mrs. Edmund over here tonight to put a buffer between us, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Why?”

  She rubbed the back of her hands across her eyes before lifting her chin and meeting his gaze head-on. “Because I still have feelings for you. There, I’ve said it. I don’t want to, but I do. Nothing’s been the same since you’ve been gone, Steve. And now that you’re here with me again, I’m feeling things I don’t want to feel. The simple truth is, I invited those two women here tonight because I was afraid.”

  Her honesty caught him unprepared and obliterated any defenses he might have built. “Of what?”

  “That I’ll do something stupid, like throwing myself at you.”

  His high school chemistry teacher had assured him that, under temperatures of 3,000 degrees or so, it was virtually impossible for bones to turn to liquid. But that was precisely what Steve’s bones did when he looked at Kate and saw the naked yearning in her eyes. She still wanted him, as much as he wanted her. That was heady stuff to a man whose ego had taken such a severe beating. Only one question remained. Was he ready to start things up between them again? Could he bring himself to take the risk?

  He wasn’t sure of much of anything, except that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and that he wanted her. Desperately. Anything else held no meaning for him at that moment.

  “I don’t think it would be stupid at all for you to throw yourself at me,” he told her.

  “Trust me,” she said with a brittle laugh, “it would be a disaster.”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Don’t.” she protested, putting her hands out protectively in front of her.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t talk that way.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have no power to resist you when you do.”

  He took a deliberate step toward her. “Good. Because I certainly have no power to resist you.”

  A look of desperation crossed her face, but she stood her ground. “Isn’t it against the rules for you to become romantically involved with a client?”

  “Absolutely.” He took another step. This time, she took a step back.

  “What would you do if an employee behaved this way toward a client?” There was an edge of panic in her voice.

  “Fire him.” He continued moving purposefully toward her.

  One more backward step trapped her against her closed bedroom door. She swayed a little on her feet, and it was the most natural thing in the world for him to reach out and pull her close.

  She didn’t resist.

  The sensation was incredible. Beneath his questing fingers, the skin of her arms felt like silk, and the scent of her went straight to his head. Like a piece of modeling clay, her body contoured itself to his. They fit together perfectly, as if some benevolent god had molded her just for him And oh, the s
ensation of her softness to his hardness!

  Her eyes were dark orbs of sensuality that bothered, bewitched and beguiled him almost to the point of insanity. As he gazed down at her, her lips parted invitingly. He slowly lowered his head, intent on only one goal: possessing their lush fullness.

  “Can you guarantee that things will be different this time?” she asked.

  Her unexpected question made Steve pull back a fraction. He frowned at her. He didn’t want to think of anything beyond the present moment: not the past, and certainly not the future. All he wanted was to indulge the desire racing through him. Judging by her earlier reaction, she’d wanted the same. So why was she spoiling it now?

  “You know I can’t make that kind of promise,” he said, when his brain had cleared enough to process her question and frame a response.

  “Then I’m begging you, Steve. Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me fall in love with you all over again. If it didn’t work out, I don’t know what I’d do.”

  Her plea served to bring the fever pitch of his desire down a notch or two. “It’s just a kiss, Kate. That’s all I’m asking. A kiss, and nothing more.”

  Her smile was sad. “But don’t you see, it would be more than that to me. And I’m just not ready.”

  It was the smile that did him in and brought him back to his senses. Though his body ached with unsatisfied passion, he wasn’t ready for this any more than Kate was. It cost him what little self-control he had left to settle his lips briefly against her forehead before releasing his hold on her.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was unsteady.

  He didn’t want to do any more talking. His control was shaky enough as it was.

  “Go to bed, Kate,” he said roughly. “Before I change my mind.”

  Steve waited until her bedroom door had closed before making his way to the end of the hallway. His earlier exhaustion had disappeared, replaced by a desire that showed no signs of abating. There was no question that he was wide-awake and that flute playing was not an option, no matter what Kate said.

  He chuckled grimly and shook his head in self-mockery. Had he really thought he’d finally be able to get a good night’s sleep? He should have known better. With Kate under the same roof, but in a different bed, it just wasn’t going to be possible. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

  What he needed, he decided, was a cold shower, followed by a few pages of the most boring book he could lay his hands on. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he’d seen a copy of this year’s federal budget on the bookshelf in Kate’s den. She’d probably used it for a column or two. A few pages of that, and he’d be guaranteed some shut-eye for sure. He’d go get it the minute he was out of the shower.

  A second later, all thoughts of his cold shower were driven from his head by the sound of shattering glass.

  Chapter 12

  The sound, which Steve judged to be coming from the living room. was followed by a soft thud and then silence. A silence that was broken a heartbeat later by the wail of the security alarm.

  Kate’s bedroom door flew open and she stepped into the hallway. “What was that?” she cried.

  “I don’t know,” he said grimly, striding past her to the top of the stairs. “But I intend to find out.”

  Hands on the railing, he leaned forward and mentally cursed the darkness that greeted his searching gaze. The only illumination came from a low-wattage light fixture located a good ten feet behind him, and what little light spilled through Kate’s open bedroom door. It wasn’t enough to enable him to see into the living room, let alone discover what had caused the commotion.

  His imagination ran wild with all the possible items that could have caused a window to shatter. A bomb that was ticking away precious seconds while he just stood there, trying to figure out what to do. A tear gas canister. A brick with a threatening note wrapped around it.

  Of course, it was entirely possible that the culprit was something as innocent as a rock kicked up by a passing car, or a breaking tree branch. Although how a tree branch could come crashing through a window when there wasn’t so much as a breeze outside was anyone’s guess. And when he’d helped Clara Mae into her taxi earlier, there hadn’t been a rock in sight.

  No, whatever the object was, it had been hurled through the window. Even more ominous, the hurler had breached his security. That was unacceptable.

  “Stay there,” he ordered Kate as he raised the two-way radio mouthpiece to his lips. “Talk to me, George,” he barked. “What the hell just happened?”

  Still scanning the darkness below him, he listened in growing dismay to the bad news George delivered.

  “Damn!”

  “What did he say?” Kate asked.

  Whirling, he came up smack against her, the action knocking them both off balance. His hands shot out to span her waist at the same time that she clutched at his shoulders. Once they’d regained their footing and were no longer in danger of falling, he found himself staring into her wide, frightened eyes. The warmth of her soft breasts against his chest sent tremors through him and made his breathing grow erratic. Unbidden, he felt consumed by an urge to kiss her, to run his hands over every inch of her body. Self-disgust filled him as he roughly pushed her away. How could he be thinking of that at a time like this?

  “I thought I told you to stay where you were.” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended.

  Her reply was shaky but determined. “If you think I’m going to stay up here while you wander into who knows what down there, you’ve got another think coming.”

  Steve heaved a resigned sigh. “I don’t have time to argue with you, Kate.”

  “I thought you never argued.”

  His hands fisting at his sides, he quickly counted to ten. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes, unfortunately, I do. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m coming with you.”

  He knew it was pointless to protest further. She wasn’t going to back down, at least not without a lot of persuading on his part. And, based on what George had just told him, he didn’t have the time to be persuasive.

  “Stay behind me,” he ordered. “Stick close, and do exactly what I tell you.” After she nodded her assent, he turned to face the bottom of the stairs.

  “What did George say?” she asked again as they took a careful step downward.

  “Someone created a diversion in the park.” He took another step, and Kate followed. “When my men went to check it out, a kid ran out of the shadows and threw an object through the window. George saw it all on the monitors in the van.”

  “So you don’t know what the object was?”

  “No.” Steve felt his jaw tighten.

  They were more than halfway down the stairs when he smelled the smoke. He listened for the answering crackle of flames but heard nothing except the steady clanging of the security alarm. Both he and Kate jumped when the smoke alarm suddenly emitted its high-pitched shriek.

  “Damn!” he cried.

  “Is the house on fire?” She had to yell to be heard over the noise of both alarms.

  “No, it’s a smoke bomb.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means that in a few seconds the air around us is going to be unbreathable. We’ve got to get out of here, Kate. Now.”

  He dashed up the stairs and grabbed a couple of towels from the bathroom, pausing only long enough to run water over them. Without stopping to wring out the excess moisture, he rushed back to Kate’s side and handed her a dripping towel.

  “Put this over your nose and mouth,” he ordered. “Try not to inhale too deeply.” Into his mouthpiece he yelled·, “It’s a smoke bomb. We’re coming out the front.”

  Taking her by the forearm, Steve led her quickly down the remaining stairs. Smoke had already filled the front hallway, and was rolling steadily toward them like some ghostly fog-Steve felt his eyes start to water almost immediately. Beside him, he heard Kate cough.

  A rush of urgency had him fumbling for the lig
ht switch. Unfortunately, the smoke was already so thick, the added illumination did little to help.

  When they reached the front door, his fingers skidded across the smooth wood surface of the walnut writing table that stood to the right of the door frame. “Where’s the card” he yelled, and started coughing himself.

  “In the drawer,” she yelled back.

  Heedless of any damage he might do to a piece of furniture that was obviously a treasured antique, he yanked the drawer open and felt around inside. He almost went weak with relief when his fingers closed upon the thin plastic card that would release the front door lock. His movements clumsy, he tried twice to slip the card into the slot, and twice missed his mark.

  When he missed his mark a third time, Kate reached around him to grab hold of his hand. With her guidance, the card hit home. A second later he heard the welcome sound of tumblers falling into place, and the door swung open.

  Lungs bursting, he and Kate hurtled out into the fresh air. They collapsed into a heap on the front lawn, where they lay gasping like two fish out of water.

  “Are you okay?” he asked when he’d drawn enough oxygen to speak. His throat felt raw.

  She nodded, still gulping in air. “I don’t...mean to be critical...at a time like this, but...we wouldn’t have had...so much trouble getting out...if you hadn’t put in that...blasted keyless lock system.”

  Leave it to Kate to try to start a fight at a time like this, he thought with grim amusement. “I disagree. With the old lock...you still would have...had to insert a key. It would have taken just as long, if not longer, to open it.”

  “Are you okay?” George asked, rushing up to them.

  “We’re fine,” Steve told him. “The area secure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Off in the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. If Kate’s biggest fan was hanging around anywhere close by, knowing that the police were on their way would be enough for him to make himself scarce.

  The problem was, he didn’t think the guy had ventured anywhere near Kate’s house that night, which raised a whole host of questions he wasn’t sure he could answer.