Hot Soldier Bodyguard

by Cindy Dees

  Not a pistol cocking, but not much better. Gunter had just locked them in. Carina gave the door a defeated look and turned to step further into the room.

  “The bathroom’s through that door,” she said, pointing. “Oh, and I see the goon squad is done searching your suitcase. Nice of them to bring it up here since they probably figured they’d be carrying you out of my father’s office in a body bag.”

  Joe scanned the room quickly. Damn. In a single glance, he spotted a dozen places to hide a camera or an electronic bug. He moved swiftly to Cari and put a finger on her lips. He touched her ear and then tilted his head slightly at the walls. Impatiently, she nodded her response, as if it was a given that her room would be bugged.

  He moved over to the balcony door and lifted aside the curtain to look out. “Great view,” he commented.

  “Go on out. You’ll like it,” Cari replied.

  “Show me.”

  A tiny smile flitted across her drawn features. Poor kid was a nervous wreck. In those first weeks when he’d watched her around the clock, she’d spent a lot of time out on this balcony. He’d gotten the impression she drew strength from the ocean. Maybe it would help her relax, now.

  He opened the French doors and held them for her. As she brushed past him, he caught a whiff of her perfume. Exotic. Mysterious. It reminded him of a night-blooming orchid in the jungle.

  The ocean was restless tonight, and waves pounded the shore, flashing whitecaps catching what little moonlight filtered through a thin layer of clouds.

  Cari assumed her usual position, elbows resting on the stone balustrade, gazing out over the backyard and pool to the ocean beyond. Joe leaned on the balcony beside her, their shoulders brushing lightly. “How much privacy do we have out here?”

  “Plenty, especially at night. The ocean is too noisy to hear anything over it. There are cameras watching us 24-7, but during the day, there’s less privacy because Gunter can read lips.”

  A lip-reader, huh? Good to know. It was a hell of a note to have the civilian protectee lecturing the commando about security precautions in this little shop of horrors. It said a lot about the life she’d lived. And it said a lot about her that she wasn’t all bitter and shriveled up inside.

  She continued, “I would still exercise caution at all times, if I were you. One never knows who’s watching around here.”

  “Or listening,” he added dryly.

  “Or listening,” she agreed.

  Silence stretched between them. He gazed out to sea. Ironic that such a wide-open expanse should be so tantalizingly close to this gilded cage.

  “Well, we got through the hard part,” he commented.

  “I don’t know about that,” she replied.

  He looked over at her quickly. “You think we’re still in danger?”

  “I think every moment we spend in this house is dangerous,” she retorted.

  He would love to reassure her, to tell her to be patient and that he’d have her out of here as soon as possible. But he dared not. There was no guarantee that a microphone couldn’t pick up what they were saying. He settled for mumbling, “Hang in there. He’ll come around.”

  Joe did give in to the temptation to loop his arm around her waist, though. Gently, he drew her slender frame close. She was shivering. Even though it was a warm night, balmy and comfortable. Not that he blamed her. The girl’s father was a terror.

  “Cold?” he murmured.

  She made a noncommittal noise.

  “Let’s go inside and get some rest. It has been a big day.”

  Her mouth twitched. “Indeed. My wedding day.”

  “Our wedding day,” he corrected.

  Her gaze lifted in surprise to meet his.

  “You’re not alone anymore, princess. I’m in this with you now. Till the very end.”

  Their eyes met.

  Something passed between them.

  It was more than shared relief that they’d lived through the confrontation with Eduardo. They were in this together. And it drew them close in a way that reminded him of how he felt about the rest of the guys in the Blackjacks. Facing danger together bonded a bunch of guys faster and stronger than anything else in the world.

  Good Lord, the same damn thing was happening between him and Cari.

  Cold alarm coursed through him. This wasn’t about bonding; it was about getting her out of here alive!

  A momentary but genuine smile touched her lips. “You’re a good man, Joe.”

  He was a lot of things, but good was not one of them. Dangerous, yes. Smart, calculating, good in a fight, maybe. But in his line of work, men didn’t have a lot of time for emotions like empathy or compassion—the things that made them truly good or even human. He measured himself by skills mastered or missions accomplished. But good was definitely not part of that equation.

  And to prove the point, he said, “C’mon. Let’s go to bed. Time to put on a show for your old man. This is our wedding night, after all.”

  Chapter Six

  Cari’s head snapped up. Was he actually suggesting they go to bed and have noisy sex for the benefit of the listening devices in her room? The idea of sex with Joe had been on her mind for most of the last few weeks, but when he put it that way, he could forget it!

  His mouth tilted into a crooked grin.

  She stopped. Frowned. That almost looked like an apology. And then it hit her. This was more of the clueless but love-struck routine he’d pulled on her father downstairs. Knowing what a bright, sophisticated guy he actually was, she’d been shocked to the point of laughter when he’d done it the first time.

  Joe took her hand to lead her inside. To her bed.

  Oh, God. Her bed. She balked against the tug of his hand before she even reached the French doors.

  He looked over at her with concern and mumbled without moving his lips, “There are cameras out here. Even if it is dark, they can still see some of what we’re doing. You need to look a little more willing to go to bed with me. I won’t pull anything with you, I swear.”

  Her first impulse was to do a little swearing herself in response to that promise. But that wasn’t the problem. She was scared to death of her bed. Not of being in it with Joe, but of the bed itself.

  And he wanted her to climb into it. To lie where Tony had lain, where his blood had soaked her clothes and skin…. Horror bubbled through her.

  “Come inside, Carina. Please,” he coaxed her under his breath.

  Taking a deep breath, she bolstered her courage and stepped through the door. She could do this. Her freedom—maybe her life—depended on it. It was just a stupid phobia. She could overcome it. She was stronger than her fear.

  Joe closed the French doors behind her, bathing the room in darkness. And the memory of that devastating spill of blood flooded Cari’s mind’s eye, creeping across the floor to reach out and grab her. She barely suppressed an urge to jump up on the couch like a woman on a chair, hiding from a mouse.

  She made out Joe’s frown. Questions raged in his eyes, but he dared not voice them aloud for fear of the bugs that he rightly guessed peppered this room.

  “Come to the bathroom with me,” she announced. He stared at her in surprise. “I need help with my zipper. It’s stuck and we’ll be able to see it better in there.”

  “Uh, okay,” he mumbled.

  She turned the water on full blast in both of the sinks as soon as he closed the door behind them. She swallowed her pride and stepped close to him. She leaned forward reluctantly and confessed in a whisper, “I haven’t slept in my bed since…” Her voice cracked.

  “Ahh.” Enlightenment dawned in his eyes. And that looked like relief, too. “So it’s not me you’re afraid of?”

  She blinked, startled. “Of course not!”

  He exhaled hard. “Thank God. I was trying to figure out what I’d done to freak you out so bad.”

  Her cheeks heated up. “You’re fine. It’s just the idea of lying where all that blood was…”

&n
bsp; He drew her into a hug. “Aww, baby, I understand. You don’t have to explain. You’re authorized to freak out over that.”

  She collapsed in relief against his shoulder. “I feel like such a wimp.”

  “That kind of a shock has broken strong men. You’re no wimp, Cari.”

  She smiled against the warmth of his silk shirt. “You don’t hate me?” she asked in a small voice.

  His chest rumbled with a chuckle. “Of course not.”

  “So maybe you’d kiss me again?”

  He went rigid beneath her. Cleared his throat. “You think that’s a good idea?” he asked dubiously.

  She buried her face in his neck rather than look up at him as she muttered, “I happen to think it’s a great idea. But if you don’t want to, I get the message. I won’t ask you again…”

  A finger hooked under her chin, nudging her face up. “I happen to think it’s an outstanding idea, too.”

  His smile positively incinerated her. And then his mouth swooped down, capturing hers with just enough aggression to make it crystal clear exactly how good an idea he thought it was. Somewhere in the background, she heard the water go off and the bathroom door open, but she didn’t care. He moved them out into her bedroom, and she went with him willingly, enthralled by his mouth and hands and heat.

  His lips were warm and gentle, rubbing across hers with finesse. Enough of the gentleman, already! She didn’t want finesse—she wanted the inferno from the nightclub.

  She clenched her fists in the fine cotton of his shirt and tugged him closer. “I want a real kiss, dammit!”

  He laughed, deep in his throat. And complied.

  Oh, God, did he comply. His whole body wrapped around her, bending her backward beneath him, the heavy thickness of his arousal pressing against her belly, his arms impossibly strong as they supported her. This was no refined gentleman, dipping his tongue in and out of her mouth in the rhythm of wet, hot sex. This was an alpha male, powerful and in control.

  Oh, how she liked that. She got so sick of college boys kissing her like they were scared to death her father was going to burst in at any second and break them in half. And then there were the types who styled themselves great lovers and got so caught up in being suave they forgot to enjoy it. And, of course, she couldn’t forget the selfish jerks who treated her as if she was little more than a life-sized plastic doll.

  Joe’s hand stabbed into her hair, pulling her head back, opening her to him even more as he leaned down, kissing his way down the column of her neck.

  “You taste so good,” he rasped. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  She tugged on his hair, pulling his mouth back up to hers. “So do you,” she mumbled against his mouth. “You taste like coffee with cream and a shot of whiskey.”

  “Baby, you taste like great sex,” he growled back.

  One of his hands slid up her naked thigh to her hip, pushing her flimsy skirt aside and tracing the route of her thong downward toward her throbbing center. Her thighs went soft and she moaned as she took a step, spreading her feet to allow him better access.

  His hand closed over her wet heat and she all but flung herself at him as lust roared through her. This man would make love to her like an adult. No adolescent fumbling around. No self-centered performances that treated her like a blowup toy. This man would take them both to the stars and back.

  He stepped backward and she followed, chasing his body heat and addictive touch shamelessly. He laughed as his thighs bumped into something. Then he grabbed her with both arms and fell backward. She started as they bounced onto the bed.

  And she froze.

  “You’re not lying on the bed, baby,” he murmured. “You’re lying on me. Focus on my mouth.”

  And then his hands were on either side of her face, drawing her down, down into a sweet void where nothing existed but his body cushioning hers, his arms holding her close, his mouth sliding across hers, sipping at her like a fine brandy.

  She moaned her pleasure shamelessly.

  And he laughed in return, a sound of exultation. Of possession. Of soul-deep pleasure. “Come here, princess. I want more of you.”

  “I don’t think there’s another inch of me that can get into more contact with you than it already is,” she protested.

  His hips rolled ever so slightly against hers.

  Oh.

  “Well, there is that,” she laughed.

  He rolled over, pinning her for a moment against the mattress. And before she could finish the tensing that rippled across her shoulders, he bounded to his feet, pulling her with him.

  “More,” she demanded, getting up as well, stalking him like a tigress.

  “Patience, love,” he murmured. “We’ve got all night.”

  Oh, my. She liked the sound of that.

  “Stay right here. I have to get something.”

  She looked around. “Here” was right in front of the French doors, all the way across the room from her bed. How had they gotten over here? Damn, that man did crazy things to her head.

  She shouldn’t be having these feelings for him. But for crying out loud, the man kissed like a god.

  And then there was a giant heave on the other side of the room. Her entire bed moved, the covers went flying and the top mattress slid sideways. What in the world?

  She watched, bemused, as Joe grabbed an armload of blankets and pillows and carried them over to where she stood. He dumped them on the floor at her feet.

  He murmured in a low voice that barely carried to where she stood only a foot away, “For what it’s worth, that’s a new mattress. It’s not the same one as—well, the same one. There’s no way to remove a bloodstain like that from a mattress, and yours is pristine.”

  She all but sobbed in relief at that revelation.

  Joe went back to the bed and dragged the heavy queen-sized mattress across to her. He dropped it with a heavy whump to the floor.

  A voice called through the hallway door, “Everything all right in there?”

  Joe glared over his shoulder and yelled, “It’s our wedding night, for Christ’s sake. We’re not exactly sleeping in here, you moron!”

  Cari slapped a hand over her mouth and burst into giggles.

  Grinning and rolling his eyes, Joe positioned the mattress in front of the French doors and efficiently remade the bed. Then, with a flourish, he presented her with the makeshift bed.

  That was possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. She smiled up shyly at his image swimming in her tears, then whirled and headed for the dresser in the corner. She dug around, found what she was looking for and headed for the bathroom.

  “I’ll be right out,” she told him.

  She changed quickly into a filmy, white negligee she’d ordered from Paris a few months back. It was made of silk so fine it was nearly transparent, and it weighed hardly more than a magician’s handkerchief. She’d never worn it before. She hadn’t been consciously saving it for a special occasion, especially since her love life was more monkish than not. But as she slipped it over her head and let it float down around her naked body, she had to wonder if maybe she’d had a subconscious intuition that this night and this man were about to come into her life.

  The silk fabric flowed like a warm breeze over her skin. She adjusted the tiny little rosettes of pastel ribbons that held it up at her shoulder and brushed her hair quickly. When she stepped back into the bedroom, the French doors stood wide open, letting in a warm breeze and the rhythmic pounding of the surf. Joe was already in their makeshift bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. His chest was bare. Oh, Lord. Was he naked under there?

  Her heart beat wildly at the idea. As she walked toward him, she pictured what he must look like under the sheet, and the image stole her breath away.

  And then she noticed the way his gaze was roaming up and down her body, absolutely devouring the sight of her, and what little breath she had left escaped in a whoosh.

  He held up the covers for her in s
ilent invitation. And the world disappeared once more, narrowing down to this man and this moment, this dark cavern of linen and flesh, safety and—

  She sank down to her knees and eased down beside him. The sheets were warm from his body heat. She was disappointed to discover he was wearing a pair of boxer shorts, but in the next instant, he drew her against that lovely chest and everything else melted from her mind.

  It all crowded in on her again, everything she’d ever wanted and more. A flesh-and-blood man holding her, protecting her, loving her.

  Hello, reality check. Total stranger only here to rescue her. Not happily-ever-after guy. But still. He made her feel like he gave a damn about her as he held her close. That was more than most men did.

  Gradually, the dream of true love retreated—not a lot, but enough to breathe.

  He propped himself up on an elbow and gazed down at her, his body perfectly still but his eyes ablaze. “You are, without a doubt, the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he murmured.

  She reached up to smooth her fingers along his jaw. “You’re not so hard on the eyes yourself, Mr. Smith.”

  “Ah, Cari, Cari. What am I going to do with you?” he murmured.

  Her lips curved into a sultry smile. “Do you want me to suggest a few answers to that question?” she replied.

  “No. Definitely not,” he answered almost sharply. He rolled onto his back beside her, an arm flung over his face. “Don’t tempt me,” he mumbled from under his elbow.

  She grinned up at the ceiling. Tempting, was she? She could live with that. The night breeze whispered across her skin and she drew the covers up. Joe’s hand was there immediately, tucking the blankets in around her shoulders.

  He murmured, “If you get cold, let me know and I’ll close the doors. I thought you might like to hear the ocean, though. It always helps me sleep.”

  She replied, “If I get cold, I’ll snuggle with you. I can feel your body heat all the way over here.”

  A pause. A clearing of the throat. “That works, too.”

  She smiled into the darkness. And fell asleep with a smile still on her lips.