Executive Bodyguard (The Enforcers)

by Debra Webb

  He had studied Caroline’s life as well as Justin’s. Nothing in their history indicated they had anything other than a happy marriage. In every image he’d viewed, from old news clips to magazines and newspapers, the couple had appeared to be happily married. But they weren’t. When he’d touched her last night she’d stiffened, shown surprise at the move. She’d resisted lying so close to him in bed last night, but he’d forced the issue. When he’d kissed her cheek this morning she’d gasped. She was startled by the intimacy of his actions. Startled and angered on some level.

  It didn’t add up. Though he had never been involved in that sort of relationship, he understood perfectly how the concept of marriage worked. And this one clearly hadn’t.

  Whatever problems had plagued the two, he had to work past them. He needed her to trust him—in every way, on every level. That wasn’t going to happen without the bond of physical intimacy. He’d anticipated the need to explain away any differences she noted in his anatomy or his skill as a lovemaking partner. Now he doubted the need. Judging by her rush toward physical release as he’d massaged her shoulders and then the subsequent self-stimulation after he’d left the room, Cain concluded that sexual intimacy had not existed in this marriage for quite sometime.

  This woman intrigued him. She appeared so strong, so invincible, and yet she had no control over the human closest to her…her husband. Her physical needs went unfulfilled. And she allowed it. Something stirred deep inside Cain. An attraction of some sort that contained no logical motivation or foundation. No human had ever moved him. Perhaps, he reconsidered, that once, in a former mission, when he’d allowed the Archer woman to live his peer Adam had reached him on some level. But the events of that mission had been more about trust than anything else. There had been no true emotional basis other than simple logic. Adam had known the woman better than him, why not trust his instincts?

  Perhaps, Cain decided, the physical relationship in this case was what intrigued him. He was well versed in the art of copulation. Acting out the steps would not be difficult. He’d passed all the compatibility tests required. This certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been thrust into a setting that required interaction with other humans. All Enforcers, though housed on Center away from the real world, were highly trained in intra-personal relationships. He’d lived for weeks at a time away from Center to sharpen his ability to fit into the social network of society. He watched the news, read all the right newspapers and journals.

  But this was different.

  He felt some vague connection to this woman he had never felt before. A part of him considered it to be a good thing, a way to gain trust more quickly. But another part of him sensed danger. He should not allow this connection to grow or strengthen in any way.

  His mission was to keep her alive at all costs. To gain her trust by any means necessary.

  No other factor played into the scenario. He had to keep that foremost in his mind.

  Emotional vulnerability was not a part of his makeup. Whatever illogical reaction this woman stirred in him, it had no emotional basis. Perhaps it was simple chemistry. He understood the theory, though he had certainly never experienced it.

  Cain refocused on the conversation going on in the living room, pushing all else aside. Clearly, Caroline was not happy with the outcome.

  “End of discussion, Rupert. I did not sign that letter and, besides, I wrote it before.” She stabbed a finger in her senior advisor’s direction. “At your urging, I might add. You tell Redmond that just because a copy of it ended up in his hands and he got a glimpse of my pain doesn’t mean I’ll allow him to act upon it. In case he’s forgotten, my decision is the only one that counts.”

  Rupert nodded. “Very well, Madam President.”

  She exited the room and headed up the stairs. Cain watched her go until she was out of sight then shifted his gaze to the man left in the wake of her less-than-pleasant departure. Rupert looked downtrodden. But all that she’d said was true. Though he might care deeply for Caroline, his counsel had apparently worsened an already seriously screwed-up situation. Was he working for her or her enemies?

  Only time would tell.

  When he’d made some innocuous parting remark to the agent stationed at the front door, Rupert left considerably less happily than he’d arrived. Cain watched through the front window as he was driven away. Security wouldn’t allow for his coming straight here. He’d had to rendezvous with Agent Levitt who’d taken him on a route designed to lose all tails before bringing him to the safe-house location. If word of the president’s whereabouts was leaked within the ranks of her staff, pinpointing the traitor would be relatively simple since only a chosen few knew the location and anyone else who showed up would be out of place.

  Cain topped the second-story landing and strode toward the room where Caroline had no doubt taken refuge. She was angry and needed to think. She didn’t like any of this. He read her quite well already. Sensed a number of disturbing anxieties tugging at her. Caroline Winters desperately needed to count on someone who seemingly had no motivation for wanting to see her professional weakness. Someone like a husband.

  Only she didn’t trust her husband.

  That was something Cain was going to have to earn.

  She burst through the bedroom door just as he reached it.

  Startled, she glared up at him. “I’m going for a run.”

  Security wouldn’t like any sudden changes to the routine, but the determination she emitted left little doubt that changing her mind would entail nothing less than physically restraining her.

  “That’s a good idea.” He squeezed her arm. “We could both use an outlet about now.”

  She blinked, surprised all over again. “You don’t…you might not be well enough to—”

  “I’m fine,” he countered before she could say more. “The doctors ensured my muscles were stimulated by therapists as well as by electrical impulse while I was in the coma. It didn’t leave me in such bad shape.” He smiled and moved a few inches closer. “Do you doubt my ability to keep up with you?”

  She stared into his eyes until he felt her resistance give, then she shook her head. “Suit yourself. I’ll be warming up downstairs.”

  Pulling her arm loose from his hold she moved away from him, then stalked off toward the stairs. She didn’t like his ability to divert her determination. He’d have to be careful that the resentment didn’t grow more quickly than the desire.

  He knew precisely what he had to do next.

  LEVITT HAD BLOWN a fuse when she’d first announced that she intended to take another run beyond the regular morning routine without first allowing him time to prepare for the unscheduled event, but Caroline had refused to relent. By the time she’d convinced the agent that she would not be swayed from her decision, Justin had joined her in the downstairs entry hall. His constant presence did little to alleviate her irritation. She felt immediately contrite at the thought.

  He’d almost died, was damned lucky to be alive. How could she resent his need to stay close to her? Whether motivated by fate or design, he appeared determined to make things right between them. The one worry that kept Caroline from jumping into his arms and shouting her thanks to the very heavens was that he might get over it. That it was only temporary. What if he woke up a few weeks from now and realized the truth about them?

  That he’d never wanted her like that. That he actually felt no sexual preference one way or another. She’d asked, not making any bones about it. She remembered the conversation as if it had taken place just yesterday. Just tell me the truth, Justin. Are you gay?

  He’d insisted that her question was unfounded. He simply lacked any sexual ambition one way or another. She’d even urged him to seek medical help or counseling to no avail. He would not discuss the issue. He didn’t want her in that way; he didn’t want anyone. Justin Winters was happy simply to be. He loved life, loved her. He just didn’t want to have a sexual relationship with her. The whole idea had
gone against the grain.

  God had created man and woman to procreate. To bond sexually. Yet, Justin felt no such need. No such desire. Period.

  Leaving her empty.

  She pushed onward, her feet pounding against the ground as she circled the property yet again. She’d been at it for more than thirty minutes but it wasn’t nearly enough. She refused even to glance at him. He’d managed to keep up with her every step of the way. His stamina, considering his recent hospital stay, surprised her. Surprised her even without the knowledge that he’d very nearly died a few months ago. Justin had worked out the requisite three times per week, but he’d never been a diehard runner. He had only run with her a couple of times to play up their “togetherness” for the media.

  That he scarcely broke a sweat and certainly wasn’t breathing hard when she was perspiring like crazy and panting like a dog who’d gone too long without water made her all the more furious.

  Damn him.

  A man who’d only recently survived a catastrophic plane crash should scarcely be able to walk, much less run.

  She rubbed the sweat from her eyes with the back of her hand and resisted the urge to shake her head. She was jealous of his physical stamina. Jealous! How ridiculous was that? She should be damned thankful he was alive and what was she doing? Whining over his ability to outlast her on the track.

  Not once in her life had she known herself to be so self-absorbed. What was happening to her? First she was imagining that she was hearing his voice and receiving a letter from him; now she was resenting his very existence?

  Maybe she was losing her grip on reality. Maybe she should have signed that letter invoking the Twenty-Fifth. She sure as hell was second-guessing herself a lot lately. Not a good thing in a commander in chief.

  “Wait!”

  She stopped at the abrupt word. Justin, bent at the waist, hands resting on his thighs, gasped for breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can go on any longer.”

  The four-man security detail fell into strategic positions around their location, at once taking advantage of the most effective protection plan and giving their principals some measure of privacy to talk.

  All the mean-spirited thoughts she’d just had twisted in her gut like a cache of double-edged swords.

  “Are you all right?” She hurried to him, hesitantly placing her hand on one massive shoulder. The physical reaction was immediate and intense, like an explosion of heat soaring through her veins.

  He nodded, took another slow, deep breath, then straightened, wincing in the process. “I think I was just so busy trying to keep up that I didn’t realize what a toll the run was taking.”

  A frown tugged at her brow and hurt knifed through her. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard knowing you were trying to keep up.” She gulped in another ragged breath. “I’m sorry. Let’s walk from here to cool down our muscles.”

  He nodded, managed a crooked smile. “That’d be helpful.”

  The journey back to the house was made in silence. On the one hand Caroline kept beating herself up for not considering his condition. On the other she kept telling herself that she couldn’t trust this new, needy Justin. She just wasn’t sure she could survive allowing herself to believe, allowing a true physical relationship only to learn later that it had been a mistake. A neuron activity blip related to the trauma of the crash that would never reoccur.

  She had to protect herself.

  On the long, shaded porch that stretched across the back of the house, Justin hesitated. “Thanks for being so understanding. I know this is difficult.” He stared down at the floor for a time. “Coming back after three months…well…” His gaze met hers. “I know it has to be hard. The last thing I want is to make it harder than it has to be.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She had to touch him. Moving in close enough to lay her hand on his chest, to feel his heart beating beneath her palm, she looked directly into those worried blue eyes.

  “Everything is going to be fine, Justin. Please don’t worry about…us…we’re fine.”

  That piercing gaze turned more uncertain…more questioning. “Then why do you tense each time I touch you? Why haven’t you even kissed me? Was I that much of a monster before? Did I do something terrible to hurt you? I swear I don’t remember. I…”

  His words trailed off as the cloud of anguish descended fully on that handsome face. “I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

  Her heart stumbled at his heartfelt words. How did she answer a question like that? This was everything she’d ever wanted…the very words she’d prayed he would say to her. But could she trust this new Justin…this stranger?

  “Justin, I—”

  “Shhh.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “Let’s not talk,” he murmured.

  And then he kissed her.

  So softly…so tenderly. Yet the sensation of his firm, masculine lips on hers burst inside her with all the force of a nuclear blast. White-hot heat flashed through her as the fallout rocked her very soul.

  She flattened her other palm on his chest, pushed her hands up and over that sculpted terrain to tangle in the long hair at his nape. Her body molded to his, feeling the heat and power of male muscle. His tongue thrust into her mouth and she moaned with the pleasure of his possession. He tasted hot and wild…and hungry.

  He wanted her.

  She wanted him.

  Did anything else matter?

  She stilled, drew her mouth away from the heat and promise of his. Her gaze locked fully with his and in that instant she knew the truth.

  Everything mattered.

  She’d made that choice a long time ago. Renewed it six months ago when she assumed the office of president. She had to take this slowly…had to be certain.

  He smiled. “We have plenty of time,” he murmured as if he’d read her mind yet again. “I won’t let you down.”

  How could he have known that those were exactly the words she’d needed to hear?

  Chapter Five

  Center

  Ghost Mountain

  “Sir?”

  Director Richard O’Riley looked up from the report he’d started to review and found Dupree hovering in the doorway to his office. His secretary hadn’t warned him. Center’s senior intelligence analyst had most likely asked her not to—which meant only one thing: O’Riley wasn’t going to like this.

  He motioned for the younger man to step inside. As he did, Dupree closed the door. Another bad sign.

  He stationed himself front and center before O’Riley’s desk and didn’t bother to sit down.

  “Sir.” He swallowed visibly. “Marsh’s body has been found.”

  If he’d said “Your ex-wife is on the phone begging for a reconciliation,” O’Riley wouldn’t have been more surprised. He’d expected Marsh to be found—alive. He’d needed him alive. That he was dead complicated O’Riley’s life considerably.

  “Where?” The hollow word echoed in the seconds of silence that followed.

  Dupree cleared his throat. “At the Lincoln Memorial, sir. There…there was a dead…ah…stuffed…ah…”

  “For God’s sake, Dupree, spit it out!” O’Riley barked coming to his feet. Hell, how could what he had to say next be any worse than what he’d said so far? Marsh was dead. Leaving them no place to go and with nothing new to go on even if they had a direction.

  “He had a dead pigeon stuffed in his mouth.”

  Defeat sucked O’Riley back down into his chair. A warning. “I don’t want the media to get wind of this.”

  “No, sir. D.C.’s Metro kept the part…about the pigeon quiet. The homicide detective feared they might have a new kind of psycho serial killer on their hands.”

  O’Riley nodded. “Good. I want his body back here ASAP. Get Fitzgerald on this. If we can retrieve any recent memories we need them.”

  “He’s preparing for departure as we speak.”

  Surprised, O’Riley peered up at the young man who more often than not got
on his last nerve, but who was the very best they had. “Good work, Dupree.”

  Dupree pushed into place what he no doubt considered a smile, but the expression looked more like a facial twitch. “Thank you, sir.”

  O’Riley considered the other necessary steps, then asked, “Anything found with the body? ID? Papers?”

  “Only his wallet, which was empty. No driver’s license, no credit cards, no cash. Nothing. They ran his prints which alerted us to the situation.”

  “Go with Fitzgerald. I want you to ensure that nothing gets lost in the transport. Review the photos from the scene, interview the officers involved and any witnesses who may have stumbled over the body. Someone had to report it. Make sure anyone who came near that body left it the way they found it.”

  Dupree nodded, a real smile beaming from his face this time. “Will do, sir.”

  As the intelligence analyst hurried to do his director’s bidding, O’Riley let go a heavy exhale. Damn, he’d needed Marsh alive. If Fitzgerald couldn’t retrieve some sort of clue as to where he’d been all this tme and who he’d associated with, they were screwed. He would be forced to wait for the other side to act, leaving him with no other option except to react, always the worst-case scenario.

  Heaving another disgusted breath, O’Riley put through a call to Winslow’s secure line. There was no point in putting off the inevitable. He would learn Marsh’s fate within hours and then he’d be pissed that O’Riley hadn’t kept him informed. Only a select few were aware of Marsh’s connection to Center. But even those few could cause trouble.

  Center represented the kind of project that won and lost elections for politicians leading all the way up to the president him-or herself. Winslow wouldn’t be immune, nor would anyone else who served as a member of the Collective. No one could know their secrets. Marsh had known almost everything. If he’d passed that information on to the wrong people the result could be calamitous for the entire nation. The encryption codes the military used had been created by Center. There wasn’t a scientist or analyst, much less a cryptologist at NSA who could hold a candle to the caliber of personnel on Center’s staff.