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by Jami Alden


  When they got back to the hotel, Reggie set herself up at the desk and fired up her laptop. She pulled out a sheaf of papers thick enough to keep her busy for the next week, as far as he could tell.

  He took the opportunity to step outside to make a phone call.

  Malcolm answered on the second ring. “This is Reed.”

  Malcolm Reed was the owner and CEO of Reed Security Systems Inc., one of the fastest growing security companies on the west coast. He’d hired Gabe after his discharge, as soon as his doctors pronounced him physically ready for civilian work.

  He’d also fired Gabe eighteen months later after the Marly Chase debacle.

  Fortunately, Malcolm had seen no reason to end their close friendship, and Gabe had filled him in on all the details of Reggie’s case when he asked Malcolm to investigate some of the stalker’s earlier e-mails. That had been over two weeks ago, and Malcolm hadn’t gotten back to him with any additional information.

  “It’s Gabe.”

  “Hey, man, how’s babysitting the cook?”

  He could imagine Malcolm, leaning back in his chair, size thirteen Alan Edmonds propped up on his cherry wood desk, the jacket of his $1,500 suit hung neatly from the coat rack, his chair angled so he could appreciate his twentieth floor view of downtown Los Angeles as he talked.

  Malcolm had enough appreciation for the finer things to assure his clients that he ran a first-class operation, but enough Special Forces–instilled intensity and toughness to make them feel good about entrusting him with their personal or corporate security.

  “Fine so far.”

  “Sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you on those e-mails. We’ve been slammed. So, no escalation in contact?”

  “No, in fact, no communication at all for the past week and a half.”

  “Sounds like your boy is losing interest.”

  Gabe wanted to think that. “I’ve never seen anything like this. No escalation, no attempts at personal confrontation, and now he’s been inactive for nearly two weeks. If not for the break-in in New Orleans, I might be inclined to think it was all a prank that got a little out of hand.”

  Malcolm was silent for several moments, and Gabe could practically hear his friend’s brain churning. When Malcolm spoke, it was with great deliberation, as though he was choosing his words very carefully. “Maybe you’re onto something. It wouldn’t be the first time a celebrity faked a stalker.”

  “No,” Gabe snapped. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she spend all this money to hire me if it was a hoax?”

  “You said yourself she needed security to keep her job. If she admits she faked everything, she looks like even more of a flake, which would no doubt piss off the network execs even more.”

  Gabe considered the possibility that Malcolm was right, but couldn’t believe it. Reggie wasn’t the type of person to stage an elaborate hoax, then go to great lengths to cover her tracks.

  Would Natalie do something like this behind her sister’s back? Maybe. But why? Though they were close, Natalie was jealous. But if jealousy was the motive, wouldn’t she have stopped, rather than helped Reggie milk all the publicity she could out of the situation? And if it was to help Reggie, wouldn’t Natalie have clued her in so as to avoid scaring her sister?

  Her stalker was real. He was certain of it, despite the seed of doubt Malcolm attempted to sow. The stalker may be laying low, but he wasn’t gone. Gabe’s gut told him their guy was still out there, waiting, biding his time until he had the opportunity to get close.

  “She wouldn’t do that,” Gabe said curtly. “In any case, I wanted to see if you could have Dave trace some more e-mails for me.”

  One thing that sucked about working on his own was he’d lost a network of experts. When he’d worked with Malcolm, he’d had a crack team of network security specialists who could track down the source of most e-mails and phone calls in the time it took him to go out for coffee.

  Fortunately, his friendship with Malcolm and the rest of the guys was strong enough that he could usually get them to help him out during their free time.

  “How many?”

  “A dozen or so. All from different Yahoo and Hotmail addresses—no ISP we could trace a subscriber back to.”

  “Hmmm” was Malcolm’s only response. Then, “We’re so bogged down we haven’t even had time to get to that first batch you sent us. Dave can do it, but it may take a while. We’ve got a couple things cooking down here that will keep him busy for the next week at least. In the meantime, send me what you have.”

  Gabe thanked him. “Reggie’s shooting in L.A. next week. Maybe you can stop by the set.”

  “As long as I have you on the phone, there’s something else I want to talk to you about. I have a potential client in San Diego. They need someone to test evaluate their existing security system and manage any upgrades we feel are appropriate.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “We don’t have the capacity to handle it right now. So I thought I could farm it out to you as a consultant.”

  His piquing interest was dampened somewhat by an unwanted shard of guilt. A month ago, he would have given his left nut to receive Malcolm’s offer. Now, however…

  Before Gabe could reply, Malcolm continued with his sales pitch. “The bullshit from last year has died down enough that I can start referring clients to you again. It might take another year, year and a half before I can hire you back full time, but until then I’d have enough to keep you busy. The only difference would be no health insurance or full-time employee benefits, but I’ll pay you enough to cover the loss.” He quoted an hourly rate nearly double that he was charging Reggie.

  Part of Gabe wanted to pump his fist in triumph. This was exactly what he needed, not only to get his career back on track, but to prove himself worthy of the second chance his friend was so generously offering. But he couldn’t stop thinking of Reggie, one room away, brow furrowed as she tapped away at her keyboard. How could he possibly leave her in potential danger?

  “Normally I’d be jumping at an opportunity like this,” he said, “but I signed a contract with Reggie that I don’t feel comfortable breaking.”

  Not to mention the thought of leaving her alone and vulnerable made him sweat like a whore in church.

  “I can refer a dozen guys who are qualified to babysit,” Malcolm said dismissively. “Someone who can be on a plane tomorrow. You said yourself there hasn’t been much activity.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s gone away.”

  “Even if that’s the case, you’re wasting your time on these low-rent jobs, Gabe. I need someone with your skills to help me fill out my team.”

  “You didn’t mind wasting me on babysitting before.”

  “I thought you could use the vacation. Stupid me. So what do you say?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Make your decision by the time you get to L.A. I don’t want to play hardball here, but if you can’t do it I need to start looking for someone who can.”

  Malcolm’s offer was a godsend, and he was an idiot for not jumping at it. Never in a million years did he expect Malcolm to hire him back, regardless of their long-standing friendship. You couldn’t nearly ruin a guy’s company that he’d built from the ground up and expect—no matter how close a friend he was—that he’d welcome you back with open arms.

  What a clusterfuck. As long as Reggie was paying for his services, his business would stay solvent. Then what? Not to mention the fact that sleeping with the woman paying his bills was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

  Maybe he should take Malcolm’s offer. He’d personally screen any replacement, make sure whomever Malcolm sent was more than qualified to keep Reggie safe.

  But if he left her now, he had a really bad feeling he might never see her again. Oh sure, they’d try to meet up, schedules permitting. But as time passed and they went longer and longer without seeing each other, whatever they had would inevitably peter out. Lik
e Reggie had said earlier, she couldn’t afford to slow down at all right now. And he couldn’t afford to follow her around like a faithful lapdog.

  He let himself back into the room.

  Reggie looked up and smiled, which sucked the breath from his lungs.

  The semifunctioning logical part of his brain reminded him of his vow not to let emotional entanglements interfere with his career. He had a shot at getting his career back on track in a major way. Was he really going to blow it for the chance to get their relationship on more solid ground?

  But the rest of him got physically ill at the idea of putting Reggie’s safety in the hands of someone else.

  As they taxied into SEA-TAC airport two days later, Reggie tried to convince herself that Gabe’s mood was not actually worsening by the day.

  She was projecting, that was all. She was stressed, so she thought she saw signs of stress in him as well.

  But he was giving her the silent treatment.

  At least she thought he was, but with Gabe, who could tell?

  He was certainly as amorous as ever. She had a hickey on the inside of her left thigh to prove it.

  Still, he was withholding something, something he’d started to let out before she’d had to cancel their plans to spend the day in Taos. She was afraid her obsessive attention to work had shoved it firmly back inside him and slammed the door.

  And she wasn’t helping matters. Ever since she’d discovered she was in love with him, she’d been skittish herself, afraid of coming on too strong and freaking him out. Normally she wouldn’t be such a coward, but his manner the past few days hadn’t exactly been approachable.

  She tried to make small talk, her anxiety superseded by irritation as Gabe limited his response to grunted mono-syllables.

  By the time they got to their hotel room, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to hone my telepathic skills?” she snapped, heaving her suitcase up on the bed.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, come on. You’ve been acting weird the last couple of days; you barely said two words on the plane. You’re distant. I’d say quiet, but you’re always quiet. But this is a different quiet, like you’re mad and keeping it from me.”

  His face bore the age-old exasperated expression all guys got when their girlfriends decided it was time for “the talk.”

  “I’m not upset—”

  She barreled on before he could finish. “I know what’s wrong. I know my schedule sucks.”

  “You think I’m sulking because you’re busy? I know we’re not some boyfriend and girlfriend on vacation here.”

  Ooh, there it was. The B word. She’d been hesitant to refer to Gabe that way, even in her head. But now that he’d brought it up. “How do you see us, Gabe?”

  He froze, his hand halfway to the closet with his suit jacket. “What do you mean?”

  She wanted to stomp her foot. Why did every semi-intelligent man become obtuse when it came to this topic? “I mean, I know that our circumstances aren’t exactly normal, but how do you see us? How do you see me? Am I your girlfriend? Or am I a client who’s enjoying some really great perks?”

  His eyes narrowed and he at least had the grace to look insulted. “I don’t think of myself as some gigolo, if that’s what you mean.” He finished hanging up his jacket and stalked toward her, his shoulders set in tense, irritated lines. Good. She’d take irritated over distant any day. “Why don’t you tell me, Reggie? What are we doing here? Am I an entertaining way to pass the time on the road? What happens after you no longer need my services? Are you going to stuff a check in my shorts and send me on my way?”

  She gasped, outraged. Did he actually think she was capable of using him like that? She started to tell him off but snapped her mouth shut when she caught his hard stare. Though he tried to keep it hidden behind his flat, dark stare, she could see the confusion, the vulnerability as he, too, wondered where they stood.

  Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. Someone had to be brave enough to take the first step. “You want to know how I feel?” Oh God, she was really going to do it. Blurt it all out, let him know where she stood and risk letting him trample her heart into a fine-grain powder. She gripped his hands, hoping he didn’t notice the film of nervous sweat glazing them. “I really care about you, Gabe, and even though I have, like, zero time for a relationship, I want to see if we can make this work.”

  Her heart thudded in her brain and she was afraid she might stroke out in the face of his ongoing silence.

  His dark eyes unreadable, he finally spoke, “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  A sentence to make the hardiest woman’s blood run cold. As she’d feared, she’d freaked him out by laying it all out there and telling him how much she cared, and now he wanted to get their relationship back to business before she completely lost her mind and fell in love with him.

  Too late. The fact that she never said “I love you” was a minor consolation.

  She nodded curtly and braced herself for the crushing blow.

  “When we were in Santa Fe, I talked to my friend Malcolm.” At Reggie’s confused frown he clarified, “My buddy who had to fire me.”

  She nodded again, still perplexed, wondering what Malcolm had to do with Gabe dumping her.

  “He has a potential client for a high-level corporate security job that he can’t take on right now. He wants me to fill in.”

  Afraid she already knew the answer, she asked, “When would it start?”

  “The client wants to start as soon as possible, but he’s given Malcolm until the end of the week to get back to him.”

  “I assume if you took this job more referrals would follow?”

  “Malcolm said he could hire me back as a full-time consultant.” He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it in thick, silky tufts. After a few moments, he said, “He can have someone to replace me immediately.”

  She wanted to hurl herself on the floor and wail like a two-year-old. Not fair, not fair! How dare reality intrude on her perfect situation. Stuck in close quarters with her fantasy vacation guy who actually turned out to be the kind of man she could fall in love with, with the opportunity to spend time with him in a way that simply wasn’t possible with her currently jam-packed life.

  If he left at the end of the week, she’d never see him again.

  But she knew this was exactly the opportunity he needed to get his career back on track.

  And since her stalker seemed to have gone AWOL, the need for twenty-four-hour protection was rapidly deteriorating. At this point, any rent-a-cop would no doubt placate Carrie and the network. She hardly needed someone as highly trained as Gabe.

  Determined not to cry or lay him with a guilt trip, she tried to dispel the tension with an attempt at humor. “I guess the decision would be a lot harder if scrotum boy hadn’t up and disappeared.”

  He gripped her hand where it fisted on the table. “I wouldn’t even consider leaving if I didn’t know that Malcolm would find someone just as good, if not better than me.”

  She smiled sadly. “We both know your skills as a bodyguard aren’t really the issue here.”

  The lines on either side of his mouth deepened as he took her arm and walked her over to the couch. She sat next to him, unable to look at him for fear she’d burst into tears. “You’ve already broken one rule about work and personal relationships. I’m not going to ask you to sacrifice an opportunity like this so you can keep babysitting me.”

  And she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him based on whatever tenuous romantic attachment he might feel for her. God, being noble and self-sacrificing really sucked, especially considering what she really wanted to do was yell and scream that she’d hired Gabe first, and Malcolm could go find himself another security consultant.

  Long, calloused fingers grazed her cheek. “No matter what happens, I want this to work too,” he said. “I
don’t want to stop seeing you just because I stop working for you.”

  The words should have filled her with relief, but instead anxiety bloomed in her chest. How was that even possible? She wouldn’t have a break in God knew how long, and until then she’d be lucky to see him once a week if he was willing and able to travel. Although there was one possibility…“What are you doing for Christmas?”

  He sat back, confused. “I thought I would stay with my sister in San Francisco. Why?”

  “It’s the one week off I’ll have until February, and I thought maybe…” She let her voice trail off, wondering if she was pushing too hard, too soon. He said he wanted to keep seeing her. He didn’t say he was ready to commit to a major holiday.

  “You want to bring me home for Christmas?” he asked warily.

  “Good God no! I’d never subject you to my mother’s Christmas dinner.” She cracked up at Gabe’s heartfelt sigh of relief. “I was thinking more along the lines of just the two of us, holed up somewhere for the week.”

  His slow smile sent warmth cascading through her. “Maybe Maui, a return to the scene of the crime?” He waggled his brows lasciviously.

  All tension melted from her face and she practically glowed. “Back to the Grand Wailea?”

  “You in a bikini, me making sure every inch of you is thoroughly covered in sunscreen? Sounds like a very Merry Christmas to me.”

  Several hours later they emerged from their hotel room and found an Internet café close by so Reggie could send Natalie the latest revisions to print off and mail to Sharon and access any updates to her schedule in Los Angeles.

  Though she was heartened by her discussion with Gabe, it was hard to ignore the cold weight of reality bearing down on their fledgling relationship. In a sick way, she was almost upset when she saw nothing disturbing or out of the ordinary in her e-mail box. If only her stalker would contact her again, she’d have a legitimate excuse to ask Gabe to stick around. She said as much in a whiny e-mail to Natalie.

 

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