He caught April's startled look in the arc of his peripheral vision as he reined himself in. Damn, it won't take much for fun and games to escalate into fisticuffs. Where the hell did this possessiveness come from? Not the time or place for a pissing contest. She already seems to have an issue with Garrett.
April jumped in with both arms stretched out, as if separating prizefighters.
"Daniel, since I need a babysitter, would you walk with me around the gardens before it gets too dark to see? It's so beautiful up here."
Without waiting for a yea or nay, she linked her slender arm through his and allowed him to escort her out the wide French-style front doors. Actually, she more or less dragged him out and away from the lodge.
As satisfying as it would be to plant a fist against Garrett's jaw, just once, Daniel was more reluctant to move away from April's light hold on his arm. So small next to his large body, she still made the perfect walking companion. She conversed easily and knowledgably about the gardens and plantings, stayed close enough to stroke his biceps as they meandered.
Taking his sense of responsibility to the limit, Daniel escorted April to her room.
Before he could stop himself, he brushed the top of her hair with his lips. She turned and smiled at him, her smooth hand almost caressing his forearm. "Thank you for everything. Good night."
And she gently closed the door behind her.
When Daniel glanced down into the great room, Glennon was staring back. It wasn't a friendly look.
Turning to his own room, Daniel considered the interesting woman behind the closed door. He'd not seen April act demonstrative toward his boss, her fiancé. Not once. Not ever. She'd always stood at least an arm's length away. Yet, tactile gestures seemed to be a natural part of her. And her hands were constantly in play when she spoke, the gentle gestures as controlled as a trained geisha's.
Chapter Eight
Tuesday
A distance runner, April loved the feeling of freedom that exercise gave her, more so after being cooped up at Angelo's, again at Glennon's, and then during the nine-hour drive to the lodge.
Her mother had observed that little April-Boo-Bear, from the time she'd learned to toddle on chubby, unsteady legs, would never walk when she could run. April made daily use of the training room at the lodge, as she had at the GMG facility. B.A.—Before Angelo—she'd used the local fitness club's indoor track near her apartment. For a California kid accustomed to the sun and breeze of the great outdoors, none of those places held a candle to traipsing the length and breadth of farm roads, trails, and occasionally along the shoreline of the Pacific.
"I don't need a babysitter. Who's going to see us, rabbits and squirrels?" All her defiance came to naught. The men decided one of them would accompany April every time she set foot outside the lodge. The decision was apparently not open to debate.
That morning, Glennon drew duty as her bodyguard.
After discovering the stable of ATVs, Daniel took different machines out when he wasn't on duty, cruising the acreage and the perimeter of the property, getting a feel for the lay of the land.
Usually light-footed, April pounded along the par course trail; her lack of technique reflected her frustration. She missed her lovely little apartment, missed her private time, missed the ability to come and go as the mood struck. Being forced to endure Glennon's morose company didn't help.
"April, ease up."
What did he do, read my flippin' mind? "Why? You wanna stop? Are you winded already?"
"Dammit, just stop for a moment, will ya?"
Putting on the brakes without warning, she came to an abrupt standstill, spun to face him. He nearly collided with her.
"So, what is it now? More rules?"
"No. We need to talk. Alone."
"About what?" Her frustration was escalating to anger. This is not the time, fella.
I'm so not in the mood. Just walk your sorry ass away.
He shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable. "About us."
Oh, no, you did not just open that door! "About us? There is no us—you made that perfectly clear." You had your chance, bucko. I don't need to be told twice.
"April, you didn't let me explain."
"Your response appeared quite clear and concise." Hands on hips, she knew her posture radiated total belligerence . C'mon, fella, take me on.
"It's not what you think. There are . . . issues . . . ." He blew out a deep sigh, then dropped his folded arms to his sides. "It wasn't you."
"Oh, I see. Issues. How comforting. How original. It's the old 'it's not me, it's you'
brush off. What sort of issues? Where you wounded in battle, can't perform to your satisfaction?" Oh shit, where did that come from? Girl, you'd better back off and go on running.
You're getting nasty. Mom would not be happy with you right now.
His expression grew hard. "I perform just fine."
"Well, then, let's follow the logic. It must be me."
"Look, I didn't want to hurt you."
"Y'know, I'm really freakin' tired of macho men making decisions about me without asking my opinion. Here's a head's-up: I am capable of functioning, I am capable of dealing with, shall we say, unpleasant situations—or haven't you noticed?"
And why must you look so damned good, muscles all glistening with sweat . . . ah, fuck this noise.
"Glennon, this conversation is so over."
Stepping around him before he saw the tears she felt coming on, she kicked into stride and headed down slope. Away from him and his damned issues. Away from the confines of the lodge, as lovely as it was. A prison, regardless of how attractive, is still a prison. She discovered that little bit of wisdom at Martone's.
"April?"
She didn't look back.
Glennon didn't follow.
April continued along the two-mile circuit of the par course trail and finished her run. One of the rustic picnic tables in the grove by the cabins seemed like the place to stop. She needed to marshal her thoughts. Sitting hunched over, she was unwilling to return to the lodge and hit the shower. She sniffled. Sans tissues, the hem of her shirt came in handy. That's definitely classy—thank goodness Mom's not watching. The thought of how much she missed her mother worsened her mood. Mom would know what to do.
She always knows what to do.
Her eyes got all squinty as she watched Daniel stroll from the direction of the path that meandered from the rear door of the lodge, his hands sunk deep in the front pockets of his jeans.
Oh, great, now what? Can't you guys leave me in peace?
" April, what's with you and Garrett? He's developed the personality of a gargoyle, then he bailed out after he made sure you were safe. He's down in the training center, pounding the piss out of the heavy bag. Did he try something? Did he come on too strong? Is that why you bolted?"
She lowered her head. "Daniel, please. I'd really rather not get into this."
"Dear girl, something spooked you badly enough to break cover in Jersey. You're not stupid. You had to know it wasn't safe to hit the streets again. This isn't for curiosity's sake, or because I'm exceedingly fond of gossip. I cannot do my job unless I know the details."
Despite puffy, reddened eyes, her expression turned hard. " Your job? I didn't hire you—and I can't honestly think of one stellar reason the two of you are involved. Dear girl? Buddy, I'm nobody's dear girl. Glennon got sucked in by a cruel twist of fate and should have bailed out. But you? You know Angelo better than most, so you're totally aware of what that homicidal, sadistic megalomaniac is capable. You don't need any of this. It's not your freakin' fight."
She sniffled again. "What I wouldn't give for a pair of ruby slippers right now.
There's no place like home, there's no place like home . . . ."
"Sorry, home is not an option at the moment. It looks like you're in harness with us. At least with me. I don't know what Garrett's game is." Daniel moved closer. "Don't get me wrong—the bloke is number one in his fi
eld, top shelf under his job description.
I can't quite sort out his deal at the moment."
April felt the strength and comfort radiating from Daniel's big body, fought the urge to move closer. Much closer.
"Look, Daniel, I'm definitely not Glennon's type, if that's what you're angling to know. Truth? I don't know why he's putting himself out. I imagine he called in a humongous favor for us to be here."
He spoke softly. "If it matters—you're my type."
She blinked. "Sorry?"
"That didn't come out properly. I don't have a type . You attract me."
"Daniel, I—"
"Why do you think I stayed on with Martone? He's a tosser. A nasty piece of work with a monumental ego. Not the sort with whom I usually work. I was about to terminate my contract—then he brought you to the house for the first time."
"Y-y-you stayed for me? B-b-but why?" She morphed from startled to confused.
He shrugged. "Curiosity, at first. I couldn't sort out what you found attractive about the wanker. But there you were, a knock-out gorgeous woman, sexy but sweet, young and fresh, smart as a whip. Too good for a brute like Martone. Guys like him do arm candy. Escorts. Hookers. You outclassed Martone."
April hopped off the table, spun to face him. "Why are you saying this? I'm nothing like that, none of those things. Angelo didn't want me. I disgusted him. He said he made a huge mistake. He didn't want me at all. Neither did—" She looked away, trembling with suppressed rage.
" Shh. It's all right." Daniel drew her in until she stood between his heavily muscled thighs. He placed his big hands on her hips, pulled her closer, trained his smoldering gray eyes on her face."Listen to me. Everything I said is true. You do have all those qualities. And more. Believe it."
April was sorely tempted to melt into his embrace. He kissed her, gently, his mouth moving from her lips to her neck, to the valley between her breasts. Is he sniffing me? Again? Jeez, what's with these guys?
Apparently satisfied, his mouth returned to hers. After one more soft kiss, he guided her back a step with hands to her shoulders.
"I will never hurt you, nor turn you away. Not ever. Remember it."
Well, that's the third promise out of three. I must be a winner. She kept the tally to herself.
* * * * *
April had no wish to deal with either of her protectors. She left Daniel prowling outdoors, and Glennon was apparently still beating the shit out of the punching bag in the huge training center at the basement level.
She showered, then took the opportunity to roam through the lodge. Artistically, she appreciated the talent and deliberation that had gone into the classic architecture, into the clean design. The decorating was beyond reproach. Masculine, but totally sophisticated, definitely not man-cave décor.
On the gallery level, she peeked into the other bedrooms, then turned into the communications center. Holy Star Wars, Batman! Look at this stuff. Fairly computer savvy herself, many of the components left her totally clueless.
She checked out a wall-to-wall shelving unit that resembled a computer store sales rack. Ahh, here we go, just what the doctor ordered. Black marker on duct-tape identified the contents of a clear plastic, shoebox-sized container. BURN PHONES. Well, that's high tech labeling. She slid the box off the shelf. Disposable phones are safe to use.
Untraceable. Everyone knows that.
* * * * *
"Mom?"
"April, oh dear God in heaven, where are you? Are you safe? Are you all right?
Angelo wouldn't call you to the phone, has been making the weakest excuses. Does he think we're idiots? And that damned bullshit about being on the French Riviera. You couldn't be out or unavailable all the time. Your cell phone goes directly to voicemail.
You don't call back. Your father and I have been out of our minds with worry. You don't know how lucky you are. I was giving you one more damned day before I hopped the next eastbound flight. What's going on, young lady?"
Whoa, she never curses! I'm really up shit's creek. "Mom, calm down. I'm all right.
Really. Angelo and I . . . well . . . we're not together. I . . . uh . . . left him."
"Thank goodness. The man is a demented control freak. He's a beast. Darling, are you all right? Has he hurt you?"
"Yeah, honest, I'm okay. I'm staying with . . . a . . . friend." Sounds better than telling my mother I've gone to ground with two men I don't know. Sounds better than admitting to Mom that my fiancée planned to julienne her only daughter's flesh just for shits-n-giggles.
"Friend? Which friend? April Alicia, where are you?"
Uh oh, she's really torqued. "Mom, it's too long to get into right now, but I'm safe, really."
"Don't make me ask again, young lady."
"All right, but you can't tell a single soul. Not even Dad. You know how he blabs to one and all. Even the customers. Everyone's his friend. Mom, ya gotta swear not to tell anyone."
" April . . . ."
April took a deep breath. What could it hurt to let Mom know? The burn phone is safe enough. Then she won't worry so much."Okay, fine. I'm in a little backwoods town in Maine. Catamount Lake. There's a beautiful . . . um . . . resort up here, called Sanctuary.
See, so I'm safe. I'll stay here until we can . . . I can . . . sort things out. Then I'm coming home, I promise. I still have the money you gave me, so I'm in good shape." Most of the money, anyway.
"April, what in heaven's name are you doing in Maine? Why didn't you just fly home? Why won't you tell me what's really going on? And who is we?"
"Mom, please. Trust me. Okay? I'm safe. Honest."
" April . . . ."
Betcha I've been on the phone too long. "Mom, look, I gotta go. Don't worry. I'll call back when I can. I love you and Dad so much . . . ." Her throat constricted. She flipped the phone closed before she broke down into sobs.
* * * * *
Yes, burn phones are safe enough. Martone smirked to himself. But it doesn't fucking matter when my West Coast boys are sitting in the trees outside of mommy and daddy's house, pointing a listening device with a fancy parabolic dish able to locate voices from three hundred yards away. I only buy the best.
He set down his cigar and brandy. It had been a no-brainer to wait until the stupid hick town bitch became desperate enough to call the family farm. His own burn phone beep-beep-beeped as he punched in a number. You're dead meat, my dear.
* * * * *
Tuesday evening
A cloud of silence overshadowed dinner, making April uncomfortable; she noticed the men were edgy. Glennon had cooked. April washed up. Daniel headed out to make the last outdoor rounds for the night. Glennon avoided even the most casual glance in April's direction during dinner, then climbed the stairs to the com center for a final sweep of the intel systems before turning in.
April chose a suspense novel from the main floor library. She slid into bed, opened the book. She couldn't concentrate, so the words continued to run together.
Daniel's words, however, circled inside her brain. Clicking off the bedside light, she tried to settle.
If asked, she would deny it—but she had noticed Daniel Wyndsor at Martone's home. Immediately. Before her parents boarded the jet bound for California. Before she was delivered straight to Angelo's estate from the airport by a pair of goonies. Before Daniel ferried her to the bookstore and back.
The bodyguard had exuded an aura of prime male animal, quiet but confident.
His voice was deep, with a touch of Scotland. The few words he spoke were articulate, well chosen. He never acted untoward or unprofessional, but she could feel his eyes follow her closely from behind mirrored sunglasses. His notice felt personal. Intimate.
Her skin prickled whenever he came near, the little hairs on the back of her neck quivered. The question in her mind: was she apprehensive because he was big, tough, and intimidating, or was she afraid of the tempting, sensual awareness packaged in his sculpted, rock-hard body?
After Ange
lo warped into Psychotic Man, she'd wondered how a man like Daniel could tolerate working for such a freak. I guess I have my answer now, don't I?
April put her book aside, took stock of what had passed for her love life for years.
When she was a lanky, little kid, tanned the color of an acorn top, with sun-streaked highlights in her auburn hair, her dad had built her a tree house. Not just any tree house, but the best, most marvelous, awesome, outstanding tree house in the whole world. It resembled more of a Habitrail for kids rather than hamsters, and it had been the hit of the neighborhood. Her dad had done all the carpentry; her mom added the curtains, cushions, and child-sized furniture.
Because of the awesome tree house, all the children converged at the Halls' farm.
It didn't occur to April until years later that her parents had been brilliant. Since the tree house was the anchor for the entire mob of kids and all their games of make believe, her parents always knew where she was, and who her friends were. Actually, all the parents knew where their kids where. Damn, Mom, Dad, that was brilliant, indeed.
As the kids grew into teenagers, the tree house became more of a clubhouse than a play house. With more than one room in the structure and lots of corners, the teens began to pair off. They bravely snatched kisses, tentatively groped and fondled each other.
Kyle was a lean, handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed boy from a few farms over; he and April developed quite the summer crush on each other. The scope of the kissing and fondling increased, but fell short of doing it, of doing the real thing.
The first time April disobeyed her parents was also the last time. Hormones raged in the fifteen-year-olds, and she finally agreed to sneak out of her bed and meet Kyle in the tree house at midnight. The autumn night was breezy and perfect, and a giant harvest moon hung full and heavy in the sky.
April had been brazen. She'd worn her best baby doll pajamas, nothing more than a frilly top and bikini panties. Pajamas that were never meant to be seen outside of her bedroom. After the first few kisses, nature took over. Before she knew it, her baby dolls and Kyle's jeans and T-shirt were tossed in a pile in the corner of the little room, and Kyle had mounted her.
Hunting April Page 8
