The Texas Bodyguard’s Proposal

by Karen Rose Smith

  He didn’t know how she was going to react to him, if she might demand he stay at least five feet away. That would probably be a good idea. He inhaled her perfume and felt his body tighten.

  She didn’t demand anything. In fact, there was a look in her eyes that made him stay exactly where he was rather than back away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, knowing they’d better get any problem out in the open before they left.

  She blew out a long breath. “I’m speaking to a group of women tonight who own their own businesses. This speaking engagement was set up before…before the tabloid layout. I’m concerned they won’t take me seriously. They might even laugh at what I have to say. What can I tell CEOs when I can’t even keep a dress on at a disco?”

  He was surprised she’d alluded to the dreaded event again. He knew whatever he said now was important. “If anyone asks, I guess you could say, Accidents happen.”

  After a moment of surprised shock, Gabby laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh. He felt supremely successful. This was what they’d needed to break the tension between them.

  After the laughter died away, she agreed, “Maybe humor is the way to go.”

  “When the unmentionable happens, mention it, and keep it light.”

  “Do you know you give good advice?”

  The way she was looking at him made him feel ten feet tall. When had a woman last done that for him? When had a woman ever captured his attention the way Gabby had? Because of that, he had to know some details.

  “Was there an accident at the disco?”

  That vulnerable look came back into her eyes when she replied, “Not exactly.”

  Sometimes she could be so open with him, and other times she just shut down. This was a shut-down time. Her lack of willingness to confide in him bothered him. But then why should she confide in him? He was only her bodyguard.

  A bodyguard who had kissed her.

  An hour and a half later, Rafe was acutely aware that Gabby couldn’t be compartmentalized and definitely couldn’t be given a simple label. She’d spoken to the businesswomen at an Expo Center attached to a complex of corporate offices. Instead of ignoring the recent tabloid layouts, she’d plunged right in making the comment that if she’d been in a business suit, she wouldn’t have gotten into trouble.

  The women had laughed with her, not at her, and she’d gone on to brief them on how she had to manage her celebrity as a business. Now she was mingling, enjoying the camaraderie while he tried to stay as unobtrusive as he could. Being the only man in the room made that difficult.

  Two women in little black dresses with volumes of cuff bracelets and necklaces to weigh them down watched Gabby as if they were noting her every move.

  Rafe wanted to guide Gabby away from them, sensing trouble. But before he could try, the two women approached and Gabby turned to greet them.

  “Amelia Northrop,” the redhead said, extending her hand to Gabby.

  The second did the same. “Gail Winslow.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Gabby replied. “I hope you enjoyed my speech.”

  “Oh, we did,” Gail answered for both of them. “But now we want to get to the nitty-gritty.”

  “The nitty-gritty?” Gabby didn’t seem flustered in the least, as Rafe wondered what was coming.

  “When are you going to start making money off your brand?” Amelia asked impertinently.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Gabby returned politely.

  “Oh, you know, bring out a fragrance line to keep you going. Your days as a model are soon over, but you have enough celebrity to carry any perfume.”

  Gabby’s face was a study in tact as she answered, “I’ll keep that in mind. Since you seem to know all about it, what do you do?”

  “Oh, we started a business last year. We sell gift baskets.” She gave Gabby a business card. “We’d love to carry an exclusive item if you develop one.” She made a gesture to Rafe. “Is tall, dark and handsome on your payroll permanently, or is he here just tonight to protect you from all them?” She motioned to the photographers who were standing in a clump outside the door waiting for Gabby to finish.

  “He’s helping out while I’m here in the States,” Gabby replied easily. Before the two women could ask another question or make another comment, she graciously added, “It’s been great to meet you. I wish you lots of success with your business.”

  Gabby moved on to another group of women and Rafe wondered how she handled the constant invasion of privacy. It would drive him crazy!

  Finally, most of the women dispersed and he and Gabby were left to face the photographers.

  She clasped his arm. “I’m going to stand still for them for about three minutes and then I want to make a run for it, okay?”

  “You don’t have to leave that way. We can use the back exit.”

  “No, I don’t want to make the press angry. I’m not going to talk to them, just stand still for a couple of shots, then I’ll move.”

  Rafe had to admit Gabby was good at this. As she’d said, she’d been dealing with the press since she was seventeen.

  Rafe radioed to the limo driver, then protected her the best he could as they stepped into the swarm. Gabby handled it by first turning one way and then the other, smiling all the while as photographers—or paparazzi, if you wanted to call them that—tossed questions at her that she didn’t answer.

  Questions like, “Have you seen Mikolaus Kutras since that episode in the London club? Is it true you split up? Is it true you’re still together? When will you be returning to Italy? What does McCord’s have in mind for you? A new line of jewelry?”

  Gabby ignored the questions and the flashes and the video cameras, and after five minutes, which seemed more like an hour to Rafe, she nodded to him.

  He cleared a path for her, his arm around her shoulders. They were at the exit, a police officer on either side of the door, when a photographer appeared out of nowhere. “How about a shot with your bodyguard?”

  Rafe blocked the man’s path, ignoring the angry thrust of the photographer’s chin because he couldn’t get a clear shot. After Rafe guided Gabby into the limo, he climbed in beside her.

  “Where’s your car?” she asked.

  “I thought getting you out would be more difficult than getting you in. I’m having someone pick it up and take it back to the hotel.”

  “I guess that’s where we’re going now,” she said with a sigh.

  “Would you like to get something to eat?”

  “Not really. That would just raise another ruckus.”

  “But you don’t want to go back to the hotel?”

  “What choice do we have?” she asked with a small smile.

  “We have a choice. Let me check on something.” He took out his phone and made a call. When his mother answered, he asked, “Would you like some company?”

  “You? Anytime. I don’t see you nearly enough. Are you hungry?”

  His mother was always concerned whether he was eating enough and sleeping enough. “Actually, this time I am. Is it all right if I bring a friend along?”

  His mother paused, but didn’t ask questions. “Of course. Bring along anyone you like.”

  “I’ll see you in about half an hour.”

  He closed his phone. Turning to Gabby, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

  She took a few very long moments to answer, but then she replied, “Yes, I do.”

  “Good. We’ll go back to the hotel for my car, then I’ll drive you somewhere where you can relax.”

  “New Zealand?” she joked.

  He didn’t laugh because he was beginning to realize how difficult it was for her to get away, be herself and live her life.

  “Close,” he said with a smile, and wondered just what his mother would think of Gabriella McCord.

  Gabby trusted Rafe. She did. But she couldn’t imagine where he was taking her.

  She was losing her bearings, even in a city she almost knew. He wound in and
out of streets until he pulled down an alley and into the backyard of a row house. She peered into the dark, spotting privacy fences and the dots of porch lights glowing in backyards. The next thing she knew, he was opening her door. She swung her legs out and the slit of her skirt separated.

  “Try not to let that happen inside,” he advised in a neutral tone.

  Surprised, she looked up at him and saw he was serious. “Do you want me to stay in the car?”

  He grinned. “No, that would defeat the purpose. Come on.”

  She followed him to the back door of a screened porch with flowered patio furniture. When he opened the interior door and let her precede him inside, Gabby instantly saw a small, dark-haired woman standing by the refrigerator.

  “Gabby, this is my mother, Lena Balthazar. Mom, this is Gabriella McCord.”

  Instead of looking impressed, or even surprised, Rafe’s mother examined her as if she were a rare butterfly pinned to a board. Gabby thought she saw disapproval in the woman’s eyes. She didn’t need that now.

  Rafe hugged his mom—a big, giant bear hug—and she hugged him back.

  When his mother extricated herself from his long arms, she asked, “You’re connected to that Greek man, aren’t you?”

  Apparently trying to keep the atmosphere light, Rafe asked, “You read the tabloids?”

  His mother shrugged. “Once in a while. Who can ignore them at the checkout counter?” After another long look at Gabby, she motioned to the kitchen table. There was a platter of sliced roast beef and ham, three salads, a pie and a cake.

  “There’s enough food here to feed three families,” Gabby commented.

  “Have you ever seen my son eat?” Lena asked.

  They’d ordered room service for lunch and taken their plates to separate rooms. She had no idea what Rafe liked or didn’t like.

  “He did manage to eat a number of pancakes this morning,” she joked.

  Lena’s brows arched. “You had breakfast together?” The question was inquiring about more than breakfast.

  “Mom, I’m her bodyguard. I’m sleeping on her sofa until the room next door is available.”

  “I see,” Lena responded, but Gabby knew she didn’t see at all.

  An awkwardness settled around the table as Rafe pulled meat from a platter then offered a salad to Gabby. She took it and put a spoonful onto her dish. Taking a deep breath, she decided to plunge in with Lena. This could be a long meal if they couldn’t find common ground.

  “Rafe told me his dad was a police officer.”

  Lena took the salad from Gabby with a nod of thanks. “Yes, he was. A fine one, too. But being on the force is dangerous work. I didn’t really want Rafe to follow in his dad’s footsteps.”

  “I can understand that,” Gabby sympathized. “I imagine you worried every day, always afraid of getting a phone call.”

  Lena tilted her head and stared straight into Gabby’s eyes. “Exactly. You do understand.”

  “I know it’s not the same thing at all, but my father was on the road a lot when I was small. When he was gone, I was always afraid something would happen to him and he wouldn’t come home.”

  Lena nodded, taking another long look at Gabby before she began eating. Rafe had discarded his suit jacket and tie before he’d taken a seat. Now his mother motioned to them lying across the counter. “Where were you tonight? Or shouldn’t I ask?” Then she said to Gabby, “When he was in the Secret Service, I couldn’t ask any questions.”

  “You could ask them,” Rafe returned. “I just couldn’t answer them.”

  Gabby smiled and said, “I had a speaking engagement tonight. Lots of women who own their own businesses were there. None of them walked out, so I guess I did okay.”

  Rafe’s gaze was on her. “You did fine. I was surprised at how much you know about owning a business.”

  “Whatever I learned, I learned by experience.”

  Rafe’s mother watched their interchange, then commented, “It’s a good thing for women to know about business. When my husband died, I was lost. He took care of paying the bills, our insurance, everything. But my daughter Julie helped me get it all straight and now I handle everything myself.”

  She looked at her son. “Does she know I’m a seamstress for a dry cleaner?”

  Rafe shook his head. “I didn’t tell her anything about you. I just brought her here to get some good food.” He winked at his mother.

  The conversation flowed more smoothly after that. At least it flowed unless Rafe bumped Gabby’s arm or their legs inadvertently touched under the table. At those times, she stared into his brown eyes, wondering what secrets he kept, what heartaches were in his past, what joys he could share with her. Whenever she was with him, a longing squeezed her heart and she didn’t even know what it meant. She’d never felt this way before—like she wanted to know a man inside and out, like she wanted to talk to him for hours and snuggle in his arms. It wasn’t just sexual attraction between her and Rafe. She was sure of it. Yet maybe he hadn’t looked past that attraction. Maybe he still hadn’t looked past her outside persona.

  After dessert, Rafe cleared the table and took out the garbage. Gabby knew she was smiling.

  Lena smiled, too. “His father taught him to be a real man.”

  Both women laughed. “Seriously,” Lena added, “my husband was a good role model.”

  Gabby murmured, “Rafe’s a good man.”

  After Lena stowed leftovers in the refrigerator, she turned to Gabby once more. “Has he told you about Connie?”

  “No, he hasn’t.” Gabby wondered who Connie was. His first love? The love of his life? A wife?

  “I thought if he told you about his father, he might have told you about Connie. Maybe in time.”

  But Gabby knew she and Rafe didn’t have much time, only a few weeks.

  Gabby noticed a beautiful crocheted afghan in progress heaped onto a side table near the hall. She gestured toward it. “The colors are gorgeous. It looks like a sunset.”

  Lena beamed. “That’s exactly what I intended. A sunset.” She crossed to the table, lifted the afghan—careful with the unfinished end—and stretched it for Gabby to see the full effect.

  “That ripple pattern enhances the colors.”

  “I’m making this one for a customer at the dry cleaning shop. I have a few orders. I work on them in the evenings and weekends while I watch TV. Rafe has one in his apartment he’s had since college. I have one put away for him when he settles down. Would you like to see it?”

  “I would.”

  Lena gestured to the hall. “Come to my sewing room.”

  Gabby followed Rafe’s mother past a staircase and living room to a smaller room where hanks of yarn overflowed onto a large table and a sewing machine stood in a corner. Lena opened a closet, reached on tiptoe and removed the afghan encased in a plastic bag. The cover was multicolored and designed in a diamond pattern.

  “This one is beautiful, too.” Gabby wasn’t just flattering Lena. It was lovely. “It could be used with any color scheme.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Lena agreed.

  “Do you visit Rafe in New York?” Gabby asked.

  “Julie and I make a trip there every spring and fall if Rafe is there. We see a show with him and he takes us someplace fancy for dinner.”

  It was obvious Lena enjoyed the trips and Gabby guessed Rafe really enjoyed escorting his mother and sister around the city.

  They talked about New York and Dallas and spending time with family until Rafe joined them—he’d made himself scarce for the past hour. “I hate to break up the party,” he said with a grin, “but Gabby should probably be getting back to the hotel.”

  When Gabby checked her watch to her surprise she saw that it was almost midnight. “Oh, my gosh. I have a shoot tomorrow.”

  “A shoot?” Lena asked.

  “Modeling,” Gabby explained, not knowing how that would go over. “I’m going to be representing McCord Jewelers and they’re
doing a few ads.”

  “That’s nice you’re helping out your family.”

  Gabby supposed that was one way of looking at it, and she guessed family was everything to Lena Balthazar.

  As the three of them went into the hall, Lena said, “I’ll walk you out. I’m so glad you came over tonight. With Julie out of town, I’m a little lonely.”

  Lena had told Gabby that her daughter was on vacation with her husband and their year-old baby daughter. They’d gone away for a few days to see her husband’s family in Houston.

  “It’s nice having Rafe back in Dallas,” Lena commented. “After he returns to New York, who knows when he’ll be in town again.”

  “You make it sound as if I never get home,” he grumbled. “I do.”

  “As long as I know you think about coming home, that’s enough,” his mother said.

  At the door, she gave her son a hug, and then she opened her arms to Gabby, too. “You’re not what I expected.” She didn’t say more and as Gabby and Rafe left, Gabby didn’t know if she had exceeded his mother’s expectations or had fallen short of them.

  Outside in the backyard, the hush of night wrapped around Rafe and Gabby. They descended the porch steps and Gabby looked up at the moon. “I called my mother earlier. She misses me like your mother misses you.”

  Gazing up at the white crescent with her, his suit coat and tie tossed over his arm, Rafe admitted, “I like coming home. It grounds me. The memories help me remember where I came from…where my parents came from. After my dad died, I told Mom I’d take care of her like he always did. At first, I think she wanted to hear that. But as the weeks and months passed, she eventually told me she wanted to take care of herself.”

  “It’s obvious, she likes her life…likes taking care of you and your sister and her family when she can. Do you and your sister get along well?”

  “For the most part. We both have strong opinions and we can agree to disagree.”

  “You’re fortunate. I always wanted brothers or sisters.” She knew there was a wistfulness in her voice that she couldn’t eliminate.

  “Julie was a nuisance when we were little, always bothering me and my friends, wanting to do what we did. But you know, when she hit her teens and started to wear makeup, she found her own group of friends and I missed her.”