Executive Bodyguard (The Enforcers)

by Debra Webb

  Caroline hadn’t actually believed the dream would come to fruition, but she had secretly wanted it. Had ever since her father’s failed bid for the White House. If she could make it, she could carry on with his plans. Point this great nation in the right direction. Make sure all Americans had the proper health care and that social security was safe for the aging population. There was so much she could do.

  So she’d gone for it, never once looking back. Justin had popped the question and she’d gotten that big, beautiful wedding to boot.

  Little had she known it would come with a high price. Her new husband loved her, that much had been true. But he had not been able to bring himself to make love to her. Caroline had at first been certain it was her. There was something wrong with her. She was too domineering, too confident, had too high a profile in society. All those things together turned off her sensitive husband. That had to be the answer. Then she’d gone through the scenario that perhaps he was gay and had never admitted the truth to himself. That he’d hoped marrying her would kick his resistant libido into action. But that apparently hadn’t been so either.

  Justin had never confessed to being gay and had not once given her any reason to suspect he was. Nor had he ever touched her intimately. Oh, they had kissed, mostly for the sake of the cameras and the watchful eyes all around them. But that was as far as it had gone.

  Living with Justin was like living with a brother or sister. It was utterly asexual. There was not a spark of chemistry between them, not a glimmer of desire.

  Caroline slipped into the neck-deep water of the whirlpool tub and allowed the heat to soothe her aching muscles, allowed it to clear her mind. It felt so good. Like the protective walls of a mother’s womb.

  For maybe a minute the distraction worked, then her thoughts returned exactly to where she’d left off.

  She had reviewed their years of courtship over and over, relived in her mind every kiss, every touch. She’d felt the sparks, had experienced the desire. But, in looking back, she’d realized that it had all been one-sided. She had been attracted to him. She had desired him. He was always the one who held back…who pushed her away when she got too close.

  And deep down maybe a part of her had needed Justin on any level. She’d lost her father that last year of law school. Justin had been there for her. His strength had supported her so many times.

  A soul-deep sigh slipped past her lips. Perhaps she had been in love with the strength he offered, with the father figure he represented. This wasn’t entirely his fault. She had pursued him more so than the other way around.

  Yet, Justin was not innocent in this mess. He had withheld the truth from her. Lied. There was no way to make it pretty. By not admitting his lack of sexual attraction to her he had, in fact, lied. Even worse, when he’d learned that she would make a bid for the ultimate position of power, he’d let himself get carried away with the frenzy. Rupert had suggested that a wedding would facilitate her efforts to gain the highest office in the land. Justin had been all too ready to claim the role of husband to the future president.

  That had been the source of their heated exchange the day he’d left for Brazil. She’d grown weary of the pretense. She was thirty-seven years old. The opportunity to have a child was quickly passing her by. She wanted a child. She could live without a husband to hold her each night. At least she had for five long years. But the idea of living the rest of her life without having held her child in her arms, without giving birth, was simply more than she could bear. Even if she was the president, she was still a woman.

  On that fateful morning three months ago, she had given him an ultimatum. Fulfill her wish for a child or call it quits. She had nearly four years to smooth over a presidential divorce with the voters. It was a chance she felt compelled to take. He had until he returned from Brazil to make his decision.

  Then his plane had gone down.

  And she had been left to live with her harsh, self-serving words echoing in her ears.

  Forcing the painful memories away, she leaned forward and turned on the tap again to add a little more hot water.

  The door opened, jerking her attention in that direction and automatically sending her arm over her naked breasts. She twisted the knob, shutting off the water with her free hand.

  Justin, wearing pajama pants, his chest bare, strode across the room without slowing once. He settled on the edge of the tub and smiled down at her.

  “I thought maybe I could rub those tense shoulders now that you’ve soaked awhile.”

  His voice sounded softer, almost velvety. It shivered over her senses like silk skimming her naked flesh.

  Without waiting for her response since she’d clearly turned mute in the last three seconds, he placed those strong, scarred hands on her shoulders and squeezed. His thumbs pressed into her at just the right pressure points while those fingers rolled and kneaded her tense muscles.

  “Feel good?” he murmured.

  Her entire body reacted to both his touch and his voice. “Yes,” she confessed, whispered.

  He leaned down, put his mouth close to her ear. “Just relax. I want to do this for you.” He kissed the spot just beneath her earlobe and fire shot straight to her loins. The gasp that escaped her mouth echoed loudly in the room. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

  An unexpected heat roared through her. She wanted to question him. To demand of him what he thought he was doing. But she couldn’t speak; she could only react to the touch of those rough hands…to the surprising, yet pleasant chemistry of his body so near to hers.

  He tortured her like that for more than half an hour. By the time he stopped she wanted to grab him and pull him into the water with her.

  But this was Justin.

  He didn’t want to make love to her.

  He didn’t want her that way.

  He’d never wanted her that way.

  His lips pressed to her temple as his hands grew still on her skin. “I’ll draw back the covers and pour us a glass of wine.” He stood, crossed the room, and closed the door behind him, her gaze following every subtle shift of male muscle as he moved.

  Her breasts felt heavy and achy. Her sex tingled and throbbed in a way that startled her. It had been so long since she’d felt like this…since she’d known desire. Her body ached for release. How long had it been? So long she’d even stopped pleasuring herself, had given up on a sex life entirely—told herself it didn’t matter.

  But now her body strummed with need, ached with want. Easing back down into the water, Caroline slid her fingers to that needy place and stroked. It only took a moment and then much-needed release exploded inside her, making her cry out in hollow longing. It had been so very long.

  She curled up in the water, wrapped her arms around her knees as the final waves of release rippled through her. So long.

  How could she be the most powerful woman on earth and still be reduced to a quivering mass by a man who’d refused to touch her for more than five years?

  Chapter Four

  72 Hours Remaining

  Caroline watched the television as Aaron Miller, her press secretary, did a stellar job of dodging questions while he conducted the press conference announcing Justin’s survival. She knew without having to be told by those keeping their fingers on the pulse of the ratings and viewer polls that two out of every three Americans between the ages of twenty-five and eighty-five would be watching this breaking news story.

  Justin Winters, husband of President Caroline Winters, was alive. His incredible return was being cited as a “Resurrection from the Dead” by the Post and various others in the media circus.

  Caroline closed her eyes and blocked out the images…the sound of Aaron’s carefully modulated tone and cautiously worded statements. Her mind kept replaying the way her husband had touched her last night. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d offered to rub her tense muscles or provide any physical comfort to her in any way. That he’d slept spooned against her throughout the ent
ire night still shook her to the very core of her being.

  It had taken hours for her to get to sleep as her body betrayed her, memorizing every contour of his pressed so intimately next to hers. One strong arm had rested firmly around her waist as if he feared she might somehow disappear during the night.

  She shook her head and forced her attention back on the evolving events on the screen. She tried to tell herself it was the miraculous survival—his defiance of death—that made him cling to her. Or even that the bed was smaller, which left him no choice but to nestle close. But the bed was the same California king-size as the one in their bedroom at the White House. And Justin had always been far too practical and levelheaded to allow a mere thing like thwarting death to send him over the edge of control.

  Then again, maybe the accident had changed him more than she’d anticipated. The doctors had warned that he might not be the same. Unable to help herself she sneaked a glance in his direction. On the other side of the comfortable office, relaxed in a thickly upholstered chair with his long legs stretched out on a matching ottoman, his full attention appeared to be glued to the book in his hand. He insisted on staying close to her. Another unsettling deviation from the norm. The only time they’d spent apart thus far today was when she’d attended the daily briefings via SATCOM.

  Though he certainly stayed right by her side while under the scrutiny of others, especially the media, at home—behind closed doors—they rarely shared anything other than meals. That wasn’t entirely true. They still shared a good laugh over dinner now and then and stories about their respective days. It wasn’t fair to paint the man with the same brush that she painted the husband. Justin was a good man, but he failed miserably as a husband.

  The press conference ended and Caroline felt immensely relieved. Rupert had insisted that she give them seventy-two hours starting this morning rather than yesterday and she had reluctantly agreed. Admittedly she needed time to adjust to her husband’s return, to prepare herself for facing the questions that would linger for weeks, and to give security the chance to assess the newest threat to her life.

  She rubbed her eyes and braced her elbows on the desk and considered this morning’s briefings. The CIA had garnered more intelligence related to the unrest churning in South America. The trouble in Colombia was rapidly turning the tide of worry in that direction and away from the perpetually smoldering situation in the Middle East. She had already authorized a problem-solving delegation headed by Secretary of State Samuel Hall, which was negotiating with the rebels and the Colombian government even now in hopes of settling the mushrooming trouble. Civil unrest and rebel uprising were nothing new to Colombia, but what was new was the spilling over of that antagonism to surrounding countries. Sides were being taken, real trouble appeared on the horizon.

  If the U.S. didn’t play peacemaker, who would? That undeniable and heavy burden fell solidly on her shoulders. She didn’t really have time for personal affairs. She damn sure didn’t have time to hide out like this. Still, she wasn’t stupid enough to thumb her nose at a threat this serious. To protect herself was to protect the country.

  Redmond. If she found out that he had anything to do with the threat to assassinate her, she would see that he faced the fullest possible punishment for his actions. How could she not have recognized that the man thrived on greed? She’d been so blind to his machinations. But she had his number now. He’d better watch his step or he would end up on the wrong side of a treason charge.

  His cronies within the ranks on Capitol Hill wouldn’t be able to save him if it came to that. A part of her hoped it didn’t. She prayed her gut instinct on the matter was wrong. But she had a bad feeling she was right. Someone or some group had gotten to him. It hadn’t started out this way. She’d sensed in him the same goals as her own in the beginning. But soon after inauguration things had changed. Or maybe she simply wanted to believe that. Maybe he’d simply fooled her as Rupert suggested.

  When her husband had disappeared things had only gotten worse. It was as if he’d used the opportunity to take advantage of her vulnerability. He’d even gone so far as to allow himself to be quoted that hers was a unique situation in the history of the nation, referring to her female emotions.

  Her teeth clenched hard. Whatever schemes he’d hatched, he would not win. She intended to fight…intended to win.

  No one was going to get in her way.

  A shiver of awareness went through her and her gaze instantly shifted to Justin.

  He was watching her. His gaze so intent she shivered again. A ping of vulnerability rippled along every nerve ending as if he’d read her mind.

  “Aaron did a good job,” he offered with a kind smile as he set aside his book. “He said all the right things.” Justin settled his feet on the floor and braced his elbows on his spread knees. “Rupert told me the whole nation wept for your loss when they thought I was dead. I’m sure they’re cheering for you now. They love you, Caroline. Whatever decisions you make will be the right ones.”

  She managed a wan smile. “Thank you, Justin. Your support means a great deal to me.” She looked away a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “I am glad you’re back. I…” Swallowing hard she wondered how she could say the rest. “After the way we left things, the idea that I would never be able to make it right was nearly more than I could bear.” She braced against the inevitable emotions that attempted to surface. They hadn’t talked about that last morning…the things she’d said. Was he merely sparing her feelings?

  He pushed to his feet and moved toward her. Again she found herself mesmerized by the way he moved. It wasn’t that his walk was different…not really. It was more the smooth, predatory nature of it that simply hadn’t been there before. She shook herself. Or maybe she was imagining the whole thing. He crouched beside her chair and took her hand in his.

  “I don’t remember much about that day or the ones that followed. I can almost remember wandering aimlessly or maybe I can’t remember it at all. The fleeting memories could merely be connected to what the medical staff told me when I finally came out of the coma,” he confessed, his face a study in regret. “But I do know that I’ve spent every waking moment since thinking about you and how much I missed you. Whatever went wrong before, I want to make it right.”

  What was he saying? That he was prepared to be a real husband to her? Children? Her heart leapt at the possibility. But could she trust this new attitude to stick? What if he reverted back to his old ways as he healed completely over time?

  She stared at the big hand engulfing hers. “I’ll have to think about this, Justin,” she said, her gaze moving up to meet his. The intensity there made her quiver. He looked so sincere, so needy. But was that the real motivation behind this change of heart? His needs. Had he suddenly learned the fragility of life and decided to grab on with both hands whether he really wanted her or not?

  He brushed a soft kiss to her cheek. The surge of desire the chaste act prompted made her breath catch in her throat.

  “Take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting.”

  He left the room…left her to struggle with that challenge. For the first time in all these years, he wanted her. Was willing to give her, it seemed, all that she wanted in a marriage. In a husband.

  But was it too little too late?

  Could she forget the past and be happy?

  Caroline cradled her head in her hands and tried to think rationally. This was what she’d wanted. What she’d demanded. Why the second thoughts?

  And then she knew.

  For the first time since the early days of their marriage, she wanted desperately for it to be true. She wanted Justin to want her simply for her with no other motivation…such as his continued residency at the White House.

  CAIN WATCHED from the dining room as Caroline discussed various issues with her senior advisor in the living room. Rupert had arrived a couple of hours after the press briefing and just in time for lunch. Cain cocked his head and studied th
e woman who was president.

  She was strong, confident, extremely intelligent. Right now she felt fury at her vice president for what she called his indifferent treatment of her personal staff back at the White House. This morning, shortly after the press conference Aaron Miller had held, her secretary had mentioned an incident involving Vice President Redmond that infuriated Caroline. Rupert worked hard to smooth over the incident. Cain hadn’t decided just yet whether the man was friend or foe. He appeared to have Caroline’s best interests at heart and she certainly seemed to trust him.

  Bottom line, in the scheme of things Rupert had the most access to the president. He could be the one working the hardest against her. Had the culprit been her husband, the issue would be moot since he was dead. The world had watched the official search teams scramble to find survivors or remains via one news network after the other, but it had been Center’s team that was successful. Using technology unavailable to the rest of the planet as of yet, Center had quickly located part of Justin Winters’ remains, allowing Cain to wear the gold band that represented the marriage between him and Caroline. Though most of the items recovered from the wreckage were damaged beyond any sort of salvaging, Center had thoroughly analyzed every bit.

  They had learned from another source that Justin Winters had met with a South American connection that could be related to the Concern, an enemy of the United States, Center in particular. But that lead had not been confirmed. No one even knew of the possible connection other than Director O’Riley and Cain himself. O’Riley had every reason to believe that the dead husband held no predominant position in the scheme of things. He might simply have been a pawn used to bring pain into Caroline’s life.

  Like most humans, she had suffered greatly over the loss. Yet she had held up exceedingly well. Cain felt reasonably certain that he had discovered why.