“Okay, so you’re the target, and until he cools off, you’re going to need protection. Here’s Amelia. Chat about lady-kinda things while I make some calls.”
Over their chorus of groans at his sexism, he left the line, and Amelia came back on to share a bit of distracting news. Penny congratulated her cousin on her upcoming blessed event and swore to come visit once classes let out for the summer and stay for the birth. She almost forgot about the terror lurking outside.
Almost but not quite. Her doorknob rattled, and she looked around for a weapon. Her reluctance to own a pistol was coming back to bite her. Not anti-gun per se, she ascribed to the maxim that one should not pick one up unless one was prepared to use it, and she didn’t want that karma on her hands. What if she made a mistake and someone got hurt? Everyone should make decisions of their own on such weighty matters.
Just as she was hefting an andiron, she heard the siren in the distance and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh.”
“What is it?” Amelia’s voice held all the tension she’d just released.
“The sheriffs are coming.”
“Good. Maybe they can arrest those guys and stop all this nonsense.” But, of course, if these henchmen were gone, two more would replace them. Maybe four. “Here’s Henry.”
As the white SUV with its gold sheriff’s star pulled up outside, she flicked the curtains closed and leaned against the wall, her knees weak. She listened carefully, forcing her mind to focus on the arrangements her cousin-in-law had just made for her protection.
According to him, her protector would be glued to her like lint until the danger passed. Penny couldn’t regret telling him about the men in the SUV and about the threats from the warlord who had been withholding water from the villagers. If they hadn’t hidden the new well, it would already have been blown up. One bastard in another country made the townsfolk fill in their own water source with shovelfuls of life-destroying cement. It still might happen, but they could only do what they could and hope for the best.
For the past few years, she’d been aware of her vulnerability. To put it baldly, not everyone appreciated their work. Often, as in their last project, they operated in direct defiance of local warlords or other tyrants who were withholding water from the locals in an attempt to force their cooperation. To make them, say, work in the mines or pick their crops. In the most recent case, the jerk demanded the villagers essentially enslave themselves to him or die of thirst.
In digging that well, Penny and her team had angered one of the most powerful men in a South American county whose relationship with the US was not the best. If they had been taken, their own government would not have acknowledged them. Or rescued them. Everyone on her team understood that. The theory was not to get taken. And, to her great relief, they had managed once again to come home without ending up an unacknowledged statistic.
The deputies had spoken to the men on her porch and sent them on their way. Then the officers had knocked on her door and explained her callers had been lost and just hoping to ask for directions.
Her comment that the new model SUV would have GPS didn’t make a dent. As the freckle-faced Richie Cunningham lookalike with a badge pointed out, there was no law against pulling over to ask for directions. Unless they showed up again and did something illegal…their hands were tied.
She almost regretted asking if it would be a crime if her hands ended up tied while her home was ransacked and they shot her between the eyes. Almost, but not quite regretted. Because she knew with every fiber of her being that they meant harm. She always knew those things—that sense had kept her team alive more than once.
She emerged from her thoughts to answer some questions on the reading for the next day and the big semester project all the students were working away at. Their enthusiasm cheered her. She always tried to make her classes interesting and the assignments worthwhile experiences, and it seemed as if this group was onboard. With a cheerful sigh, she stuffed her notes and laser pointer into her purse along with her tablet and hung the strap on her shoulder. It seemed Phoenix hadn’t been able to get her protector to her by the end of class after all. Ah well.
Penny had time for a quick bite before office hours. But after stuffing herself on the food she’d ordered at Gondola the night before, as well as the extra goodies the kind owners had added as a welcome home gift, she thought she’d skip lunch. Maybe just stop by the campus coffee house for a latte and one of their famous carrot/pineapple muffins. Or orange herbal tea and a giant chocolate chip caramel swirl cookie. Something tasty and a little decadent to keep her going through the afternoon. She’d earned the indulgence.
With the thought of that warm, chewy cookie with its crispy browned edges on her mind, she headed for the hallway and slammed into a wall of solid muscle. Tipping her head back, she looked up, up, up until she reached the head atop the shirt she clutched for balance. Startled, she blinked, regaining her equilibrium, but then she laughed. “You must excuse me. I wasn’t looking where I was going at all.”
His lopsided grin revealed white but not perfectly straight teeth. Charming and a little rakish. “You wouldn’t happen to be Dr. Penelope MacKay, would you, luv?”
The bird’s laughter stilled as she stared at him. She ran the tip of her tongue over rose-pink lips, tanned cheeks flushing red, dark-lashed blue eyes wide. He found himself leaning close, closer, until he was a whisper away from her.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m Professor Penny.”
His protectee. With a sharp inhale, he straightened and set her away from him. “And I’m Clive Harrington. Dan Romeo sent me.”
“Are you Henry’s Clive?” She shook her head and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I’m assuming. But you have a British accent and my cousin is married to a fellow from England. He’s mentioned an old friend of his—but Clive is probably a much more common name in your country.” She thrust out a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
What a mouthful. But as pretty and delicate as the little darling looked in her scoop-necked T-shirt with a little lace trim, topped with a gray tweed blazer above thigh-caressing jeans, her palm was calloused, her nails trimmed short. Her grip firm. “Clive Harrington, Professor MacKay. I’m honored to meet you.
This was a woman who worked hard, who used her hands to help others without caring if she ruined a manicure. Her gleaming leather loafers were professor-wear, but he’d bet she stored a pair or three of beat-up work boots in her closet next to them.
He’d never been so charmed within seconds of meeting a woman.
Shame she lived six or so thousand miles from him. Otherwise, once the job was over, he’d be tempted to ask her out. What would a fancy professor like her think of his small cottage on the estate? With a little help, it might be something special, but that would take a woman’s touch, and this woman had better things to do with her time.
Like teach classes and save the world. What an honor to be her protector even for a short time. It got the old blood flowing, it did. Certainly managing the estates for His Lordship was an honorable vocation, but sometime he missed the old days. Even for a mechanic, having the lives of the pilots in his hand lent a certain verve to the day. He had to be on his game at all times. Then, of course, the MI6 years…
“You can let go anytime.” She flicked a glance downward at their joined hands. He blinked, thrown off his game by the electricity between them, and said what he was really thinking.
“But what if I don’t want to, luv?” He was crossing a line already. And he probably should care about that…
She lifted her chin, eyes narrowed, but dancing. Little silver sparkles in the deep blue. Bloody hell if the mission wasn’t going all to pot. “Then, I suppose, we’ll have to stroll across campus hand in hand like we’re in love.” She shrugged. “What will my students think of me then?”
She was right. Clive moved to release her, but she tightened her grip on him. Why was that such an incredible turn on? Most men liked their women soft and
sweet, but he appreciated those with spirit, moving forward in life under their own steam.
Like one he remembered well…
“Clive?”
He shook off the thoughts. Between his attraction to the professor and the memories she stirred of another extraordinary woman in his past, he’d find himself unfit for duty. Shame himself, his lordship, and the Phoenix Agency who he represented on this mission. That would never do.
“Really, Professor,” he muttered, embarrassed at his lack of control, “I wouldn’t want you to have trouble with your scholars because I insisted on clinging to you like a schoolboy with his first sweetheart.”
To his shock, her eyes brimmed with tears. “That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.” She drew him inside the classroom and closed the door, still holding on to him. “Sometimes, it’s hard watching them, my students I mean, fall in and out of love on a weekly basis while I never seem to meet anyone I want to date more than once.” She lifted their linked hands in a boxer’s salute. “Let’s pretend we are something special to one another. It would make your presence here more logical than a random man following me from class to class, don’t you think?”
He shifted to link their fingers, bringing their palms together. More electricity shot up his arm and down his torso right to his groin, which responded with great enthusiasm. Clive turned a bit away from her, hoping she hadn’t seen the bulge in his trousers. “A helpful fiction. Where to, then, luv? I’m yours for the duration.”
“A coffee, unless you’re hungry?” He’d never seen such a graceful eyebrow arch.
“It’s your show. I’m just along for the ride, making sure you’re safe until the danger passes.” His stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly.
“Oh, you probably haven’t eaten in hours. Do they feed you on international flights? Assuming you were on one.” She started off along the hallway and led him out onto a river rock path flanked with green hillocks interspersed with planter beds of multi-colored grasses. Brown, mauve, beige, purple. None of them high enough to hide an evildoer.
“Yes, they fed me, but not well. I’m all right, though. Just follow your plans for the day, and I’ll find sustenance along the way.”
The path branched, and she took the left fork toward a group of low, rounded buildings. Domes of some sort. “No, I can get coffee anywhere, but how can you take care of me if we don’t make sure your basic needs are met?” She marched on, surprisingly fast for someone several inches shorter than him. He didn’t have to shorten his strides at all. “How do you feel about a nice panini? Or would you prefer sushi?”
Against his will, he grimaced, and she snorted then slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Sorry,” he said. “Wherever you want to stop, I’ll find something to eat. I just have never developed a taste for raw fish.” He’d eaten it. On one mission, where he and a certain female agent had ended up stranded on an island, that’s all they’d eaten. They couldn’t light a fire and give away their location.
“Hmm.” She swung their hands as they approached a group of students who greeted her then, as they passed, fell into a buzz of excited whispering. “Hang on a minute.” Turning on a heel, she faced the trio of coeds. “Suzi, Barbara, Janet, if you have a moment, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
“Yes, Professor?” They wore identical expressions of avid interest, and he suppressed his amusement, instead gazing adoringly at Professor Penny. It wasn’t hard.
“This is my fiancé, Clive Harrington, just arrived from England.”
Now he gaped as well. When had they gotten engaged?
The girls all gathered around, wishing them well and demanding details as his fiancée told them how she’d been traveling to the UK to see him for quite some time—cleverly explaining her absences when weather would have precluded hiking—and about how he had finally managed to get away from his job to come see how she did hers.
“So, girls, you’ll see him around campus for a bit, shadowing me while I try to convince him to move here. After all, can you imagine me in England?”
No, he probably couldn’t. Which bothered him more than he liked to admit. After five minutes or so, she accepted hugs from the girls, who then turned to him with squeals and more hugs. For a moment, he almost imagined he was engaged to this amazing woman before they were again heading down the path toward the domes.
“There.” She sighed. “Those girls will tell everyone in their sorority, who will tell everyone on campus by the end of the day.” Leaning toward him, she whispered, “Effective, huh?”
“Very,” he murmured admiringly. “But you didn’t tell them about the proposal.”
As they arrived at the little cluster of buildings, he realized they were all stores of some kind or restaurants or both. Walled with broad boards, their roofs were a variety of colored shingles, lending a cheery appearance. “Oh, the proposal. Well, it was such an intimate moment I didn’t want to share it with my gossipy students.” As his imagination flew to their intimate moment, she pointed at a green-roofed structure. “How about the Wharf? Fish, but cooked. Chowders, salads, fried things? Sound good?”
“After rubber chicken and mealy potatoes? Sounds very good.”
When they stepped inside, he breathed in the clean odor of the sea. The kitchen and ordering area were in the center, tables lining the outside walls with their many windows.
“We have to place our orders,” she said, “and then pick it up. But I promise you won’t think it’s food service cuisine.”
He eyed the menu board over their head. “You aren’t hungry, though, and I don’t want you to have to watch me eat. My job is to follow you through your day, not create my own schedule.”
“It’s not a problem. Hi, Jules,” she addressed a redheaded woman with a white apron wrapped around her ample form. “I brought you a new customer.”
Smiles wreathed the woman’s face, and she bustled out from behind the counter. “I have to congratulate the bride and groom. Lunch is on me. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll bring it out to you.”
The professor ordered a bowl of cioppino and, unsure what that was, he asked for the captain’s platter of assorted fried seafood. He waited until they were seated at a table by a window looking out at the distant mountains to express his amazement at how fast word had gotten around about their engagement.
“How did she find out so fast?” he marveled.
“We got lucky.” She took a sip from the coffee she’d ordered. “No other three would have done it this efficiently, although it’s fast even for me. Maybe the fact they’ve never seen me with anyone before fueled the flames.” The thought she’d never been serious enough about a man to bring him around pleased him inordinately.
He asked her some questions about her schedule, while they waited for their food, basic information for him to do his job. He’d done a bit of bodyguarding in his previous service, but he’d never felt such a draw to his protectee. He’d have to be careful not to lose his professionalism. Especially since they would have to act “engaged,” whenever they were around other people.
In less than ten minutes, Jules appeared at their table, followed by a server with a large tray. The redhead unloaded it onto the small stainless-steel surface and then sat down in an empty chair with a sigh. “Feels good to take a load off. I hope you don’t mind if I join you. I have a lot of questions regarding your suitability to marry Professor Penny…and why this is the first I’ve heard of you.”
Chapter Three
Penny bit her lip. Jules was a friend, but for her own protection she knew nothing about the team and their trips. Even her own family didn’t know much, although Chief Mac MacKay, the family patriarch, and, of course, her cousin Amelia who married Lord Henry had some knowledge. “I guess our announcement comes as quite a surprise,” she began.
“I should say it is,” the cook huffed. “Clive, eat up! I’m going to quiz the professor here while you eat. I hope you don’t mind, I brou
ght myself a little something, too. Taking a lunch break while I grill Penny like a fish.”
Penny scooped up a fortifying bite of cioppino, savoring the array of delicious shellfish in its rich broth. “This is delicious, Jules.”
The cook waved away the compliment. “Of course, it is. Isn’t it always? Now, I am curious as to why one of my closest friends got all the way to engaged without telling me a word about even meeting a man. I am in the wedding, right?”
She nodded, and Jules went on. “So, where did you meet?”
Drawing a deep breath, Penny ignored Clive’s unrepentant grin and then groan of pleasure as he bit into a crispy fried clam. But Jules didn’t. “I closed my restaurant right off Fisherman’s Wharf to come here when my son was a student. Figured it was the only way he’d get a decent meal.”
“This is better than decent. I am a connoisseur of fried fish, and you surpass anything I’ve found in the best chip shops in my home town.” He dug in, having won over Jules forever.
“He knows good food,” the cook said, with approval. “So, while he eats, I want to know everything.”
“I need to eat, too, Jules,” she protested, but her friend waved away her words.
“If you can’t eat a bowl of soup and talk, you’re not the Professor Penny I know. Where did you meet?”
“It’s a really long story…”
“Good. I haven’t taken a lunch break in days, and my staff has things well in hand. Do you have anywhere to be?”
“Office hours, but I don’t have any appointments for the first hour.”
Jules lifted a forkful of grilled salmon. “Then send out one of those message things.”
The Phoenix Agency_Her Uncommon Protector Page 2
