Wild for Him
Page 22
"Me, too." Sliding his fingers around to the nape of her neck, he drew her down so that her head was resting on his chest and she was lying next to his warm, hard body once again.
She could hear the heavy beating of his heart against her ear, and she closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around him, and held him close. It was the only thing she could do to offer him a little comfort, to ease his suffering. To let him know that she cared and was there for him.
And then she wondered who was going to soothe her heartache when he was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
THREE weeks with Christine had gone much faster than Ben had anticipated. Tomorrow, Tuesday, voters would decide who they wanted for a new governor-Nathan Delacroix or Charles Lambert-and depending on who won the election, Ben's job as Christine's bodyguard would possibly be over. If Nathan won, he was certain that his assignment would be extended a few extra weeks, just to ensure Christine's safety and to make sure there were no other threats issued against her or Nathan.
Ben shifted on the couch in the reception area of The Big Event as he continued his game of FreeCell while waiting for Christine to finish a phone call so they could leave for the night. He honestly wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of spending more time with Christine beyond this next week, any more than he knew how he felt about leaving her tomorrow-if that's what happened.
Professionally, she was an assignment and an ESS client, and he'd protect her for as long as necessary because that was his job. But on a personal level, he was torn inside. In such a short span of time things had gotten so intense between them-sexually and emotionally. He'd not only crossed a physical line with this woman when that went against his code of mixing business with pleasure, but somewhere along the way his emotions had gotten all tangled up in the mess, too.
And that was something he never saw coming until it was too late-when he'd bared his soul to Christine, along with his deepest, darkest anguish, and the guilt and remorse that had consumed him since Kim's death. The night that he'd lost Kim was something he never talked about with anyone-the guys he worked with were well aware of what happened that fateful night, but they understood it was an off-limits topic for him-yet he'd trusted Christine with the nightmares that haunted him on a regular basis.
But that wasn't all. While he usually kept any kind of personal discussions with a client to a minimum, those kinds of revealing, intimate conversations with Christine had become a common source of pillow talk with them. They'd talked much too openly about their pasts, their family issues, and shared other painful secrets that had given him a glimpse into who Christine was deep inside-a woman with a huge, generous heart who was finally embracing the independent spirit her mother had spent too many years stifling.
God, he was in way over his head when it came to Christine, and Ben knew he had to take a huge step back emotionally, as well as physically. He'd promised Christine he'd go with her to Envy the night after the election to help her celebrate her twenty-seventh birthday, and he decided that would be it for the two of them. In fact, if she did need extended security, he was seriously considering having Kevin or Jon take over for the duration of the assignment in order to make a clean break, instead of drawing out the inevitable.
The sound of two female voices heading toward the reception area pulled Ben from his thoughts. Madison and Christine came into view as they discussed some details on an upcoming retirement party they'd been commissioned to organize and plan, and as soon as they finished their conversation, Christine set a file folder on the front desk and glanced over at him.
"Are you about ready to go?"
It was nearly five-thirty in the evening, and it wasn't like it would take him very long at all to pack up for the night. It was just a matter of shutting down his laptop, putting it in its case, and grabbing the novel he was nearly done with. "I'm ready when you are."
"I'm good," she said, and unlocked the cabinet where she and Madison kept their purses during the day. "How about you?" Christine asked her assistant.
"I have a few more things to finish up before I leave for the evening," Madison said.
Christine nodded in understanding. "Don't forget to vote before coming into work in the morning," she reminded her friend.
Madison laughed. "Don't worry, I won't. Your father is going to kick Charles Lambert's ass tomorrow."
Christine grinned. "God, I hope so! Someone has to stand up for the underdog, and it's clear that Lambert is chomping at the bit to tear down the neighborhoods on the lower west side so he can build to accommodate and appease a lot of the wealthier residents of Chicago." Her voice rang with disgust.
"They're already saying it's going to be a very close race," Ben chimed in as he stood, his computer case in hand. He had endless time during the day to read through news reports, and everyone was gearing up for the big race tomorrow and speculating on the outcome.
Nodding in agreement, Christine slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder and picked up her briefcase. "Which is why every single vote counts in this election."
They started for the front door, and just before walking out Christine glanced back at Madison. "Lock the door behind us when we leave."
Madison rolled her eyes at Christine's overprotective reminder, which really wasn't necessary since Ben had made it a rule that the door remained securely locked when he wasn't around to look after Madison, too. "Yes, Mom!"
The glass door swung shut behind them, and Madison turned the lock and gave them a quick wave. Car keys in hand, Ben walked with Christine toward his truck, which he'd parked a few stores down from her business after lunch. But before they reached his vehicle. Madison called out to Christine, stopping them both on the sidewalk.
"Christy!" Standing with the door propped open with one hand, Madison lifted a file folder for her to see. "You forgot the contract on the Lewis account that you wanted to take home and review tonight."
"Oh, thanks!" Christine started back toward The Big Event, but Ben stopped her before she could go.
Pressing a button on his remote, he unlocked the truck, which was only a few yards away from where they were standing. "You get into the truck and I'll get the folder for you."
Ben waited and watched as Christine headed to the vehicle, wanting to make sure she was securely inside before going back for the file. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a white car stop in the middle of traffic, causing horns to blare from other irate drivers. Ben glanced in that direction, noting that it was a white BMW coupe seconds before he realized that Jason Forrester was behind the wheel and he was pointing what looked to be an assault rifle out the passenger window directly at Christine.
Son of a bitch! He didn't have time to pull his own concealed weapon. Instead, finely honed military instincts took oven along with a rush of adrenaline, and he dropped his laptop bag and bolted back toward Christine, his only thought to protect her as he yelled, "Christy, get down!"
Oblivious as to what was going on, she turned around with a look of bewilderment on her face, just as Ben heard an eery phftt coming from Jason's car, then another shot. Unable to reach Christine in time, he watched in horror as her body jerked from the impact, and then she glanced down to see two vivid red spots forming on her cream silk blouse-one near her left shoulder, and another on the right side of her abdomen.
Clearly in shock at the realization that she'd been shot, she swayed on her high-heeled shoes, tried to step back, but instead collapsed to the sidewalk, her purse and briefcase scattering around her as she lay there, staring up at the sky with wide, startled eyes.
The squeal of tires told Ben that Jason had taken off, and he dropped to his knees beside Christine to assess the situation, his mind reeling and his chest tightening with the effort to keep his own panic at bay.
"Oh, my God, oh, my God!" Madison said hysterically as she ran up to them. "Is she all right?"
Ben didn't know, and his stomach cramped at the thought of anything happening to Christine. Of losing yet
another person he'd come to care for. "Call nine-one-one!" he barked out, trying to shake some sense into Madison. "Get an ambulance here now!"
"Already done!" someone else said from nearby, making Ben vaguely aware that a small crowd was starting to form around Christine on the sidewalk.
"Stay with me, sweetheart. You're going to be just fine." It wasn't a promise he had the right to make, but he refused to think differently.
She glanced up at him with pain-filled eyes, then opened her mouth to speak, but only a croak of sound escaped her.
"Don't talk," he said softly, though his own voice shook with fear. "You've been shot." Twice. But that wasn't something she needed to know or hear at the moment.
Because one of the bullets had hit her so close to the stomach, which could prove to be a life-threatening injury if she bled out, he knew he had to staunch the flow of blood until medical help arrived. With hands that were less than steady, he managed to unbutton her blouse and pull it away from the right side of her waist. He gently ran his fingers over the spot that was covered in bright red blood, searching for a wound… but couldn't find one.
What the hell?
Christine winced and moaned as he probed the welt forming on her skin, assuring him that she had been struck with something. Frowning in confusion, he pulled his hand away and rubbed the thick, sticky substance between his fingers. It didn't feel thin and slick like fresh blood, and as he took a whiff of the wetness on his fingers, he inhaled the distinct chemical scent of paint.
Un-fucking-believable. Jason had shot her with a paintball gun, not a real, authentic assault rifle. The relief that poured through Ben was so profound, he felt a well of emotion rise up into his throat and he dropped his head forward to give himself a private moment to gather his composure. Other than being sore and bruised, she was going to be okay.
He exhaled a deep breath and met Christine's gaze. "Jason shot you with a paintball gun," he said once he was back in control again.
Her eyes flashed with fire and anger, letting Ben know that she really was okay. "It hurts."
"It'll definitely hurt like hell for a while and you'll be bruised in those areas, but there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage. But I'm still going to have you checked out just to make sure." He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her upright. "Come on, let's get you back into your office until the paramedics and police arrive."
He helped her up the rest of the way, wrapped an arm around her waist, and led her back to The Big Event. Madison grabbed Christine's purse and briefcase, along with Ben's computer bag, and just as they stepped back into the reception area, the sound of multiple sirens in the distance grew louder, until an ambulance and two squad cars arrived.
Moments later, the paramedics were hovering over Christine by the couch, taking her vitals and checking the welts on her abdomen and shoulder. Three police officers took Ben aside, and after he explained what had happened, and who had assaulted Christine, two of the policemen went back outside to take statements from the people who'd witnessed the attack.
The officer who'd stayed behind assured Ben that there would be an immediate warrant issued for Jason's arrest. Combined with his recent transgressions against Christine, Ben knew that there would be no chance of bail for Jason this time around, and that he was looking at some serious jail time down the road for this latest attack and for breaking the terms of the restraining order once again.
Knowing that Jason would be behind bars for a while was fine with Ben. Between his blackmail attempts toward Nathan Delacroix and his aggression toward Christine, the man was a menace and a threat and needed some serious help.
Ben was just glad to know that once Jason was arrested, Christine would be safe on her own again.
BUNDLED up in her favorite fleece robe and hands wrapped around a warm mug of chamomile tea, Christine glanced over at Ben, who was sitting in the single chair in her living room, which was too far away from where she sat, as they listened to the evening news speculate on the outcome of tomorrow's election.
Ever since they'd arrived back home after the paramedics had released her and the police had finished questioning her about Jason, Ben had been quiet and even a bit distant. After making a call to her parents to give them the latest news and reassuring them that she truly was okay, she and Ben had eaten dinner, and she'd taken a long, hot shower to help ease the soreness in her shoulder and abdomen where bruises were already forming. Then they'd settled in the living room to watch a few shows together, and any attempt at conversation with Ben resulted in a go-nowhere kind of answer from him.
It was frustrating and aggravating, and she was pretty certain she knew where his isolated mood was stemming from. Now that she was privy to what had happened to Kim, and how Ben blamed himself for not being able to keep her safe, she had a feeling that he was berating himself for letting Jason get close enough to hurt her.
And that mentality of Ben's frustrated the heck out of her. "What happened today wasn't your fault," she said, figuring they were better off getting it all out in the open, instead of letting him stew on it all night long.
He glanced at her, his eyes revealing nothing. "I know that. I didn't pull the trigger on that paintball gun."
There was the slightest edge of sarcasm to his voice, which she didn't appreciate. "Let me rephrase my comment. It wasn't your fault that you weren't able to get me out of the way before Jason shot me."
His jaw clenched. "I'm your bodyguard, Christine. My job is to protect you at all costs. I should have taken both of those shots for you. What if it had been a bullet instead of just paint in that rifle?"
"There are no 'what ifs,' Ben," she said, her annoyance mounting. "It wasn't a bullet. I'm okay. You're good at what you do, but shit happens sometimes."
He had no reply to that. Instead he rubbed at his forehead, looking tired and weary. "The good news is, the police have Jason back in custody, so at least that's one less thing for you to worry about."
She took a sip of her tea, letting it warm her all the way down to her belly. "You really think he was the one behind the threats and blackmail attempts toward my father?"
"He had every motive," Ben said confidently. "He had an irrational grudge against you, and he obviously wanted to ruin your father's chance at winning the election since your dad killed Jason's political career-not that Jason didn't deserve to be ostracized for embezzling campaign funds. Hopefully, they'll nail his ass and he'll be spending enough time in prison to sober him up and make him reassess the direction of his life."
"Yeah, that would be nice," she agreed, and finished off her tea. "By the way, I think I'm going to take it easy tomorrow and work from home after I go out and vote. My shoulder and stomach feel really tender, and I'd rather be here for the day than at the office."
He nodded. "That's a good idea."
Exhausted after the day she'd had, she stood up and took her empty mug to the kitchen, then returned to the living room, switching off lights as she went.
"Are you ready to call it a night?" she asked Ben.
He looked at her, his gaze uncertain, and still way too withdrawn. "I really don't think it's a good idea for us to do anything tonight."
She rolled her eyes. "The last thing on my mind right now is sex," she fibbed, knowing she could be persuaded very easily when it came to Ben. "I want to go to bed andsleep. With you. I promise not to take advantage of you in any way whatsoever, if that's what you're worried about."
That prompted a smile to quirk the corners of his mouth. "Now that's a relief," he teased, a semblance of his old self emerging once again. Standing, he took her hand and led the way back to her bedroom.
Christine was grateful that he'd given in to her request. With their days together numbered, she didn't want to be alone tonight. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body against hers all night long, and wake up cuddled in his arms. She wanted to enjoy all the special intimacies she'd grown used to sharing with him over the course of the past few weeks.
THE day seemed to fly by in a flash. Between watching news reports on the election, fielding calls from Madison at the office, finalizing details on an upcoming sports banquet she'd been hired to plan and coordinate, and numerous calls from her annoyed mother, six o'clock in the evening arrived much sooner than Christine realized.
After yesterday's incident with Jason, her shoulder and side felt battered and bruised, and it was difficult to lift her arm or twist at the waist without groaning or wincing from the aching pain. She might not have been shot with a real bullet, but Jason had definitely left a lasting impression on her body.
Done working for the day, she shut down her computer and cleaned up her home office, then made her way into the living room where Ben was sitting in the armchair watching the evening news. She glanced at the TV screen, saw the percentages of votes between each candidate, and felt her stomach tumble anxiously. Considering that there was no clear-cut winner yet, she could only imagine how her father was doing at the moment.
"Good Lord, this has become a nail-biting election," she said, and sat down on the side of the couch that was closest to Ben's chair.
"We did our part," Ben replied, and smiled at her. "Now it's up to the rest of the state to vote for the right guy. And that would be your father."
She crossed her fingers and held them up for Ben to see. "Here's hoping."
Ben was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Is everything okay between you and your mother?"
He must have overheard her many conversations with her mother today, not all of them pleasant, unfortunately. "Is it ever?"
Laughter glimmered in his golden brown eyes. "Not from what I've seen."
She settled more comfortably into the corner of the couch, and curled her jean-clad legs up under her. "According to my mother, I'm going to make some man a horrible wife."