His Reluctant Bodyguard

by Loucinda McGary

  Avery chased the bits of bleu cheese around her almost empty plate and tried to follow the logic but couldn’t. What possible difference could one man make? “What do you think?” she asked at last.

  “I’d rather wait until I get there and see for myself what’s going on.” Rip replied. He bent his head down to his right shoulder and then his left, shrugging away the tension before he added in a light tone, “In the meantime, I plan to enjoy a couple of relaxing days on board. You up to the task of assisting me?”

  She gave him a sassy smile. “Of course, after all, you’re my top priority.”

  “Suu-weet! Let’s start with dessert.” And he signaled the waiter.

  Rip ordered a banana split with two spoons and insisted she taste it as part of her bodyguard duties. Amid much joking around they finished off the gooey concoction at a little after 12:30. Plenty of time for Avery to make it to the bingo tournament.

  To her surprise, he insisted on going with her. He bought one card for each game and sat in the front row of the Regal Lounge, getting assistance about how to play from a pair of red-hat ladies in the seats beside him. The ladies were obviously charmed by him, and judging by the way he laughed and joked, he was actually having a good time.

  “Bye-bye, Mr. Brown.”

  “See you around the ship.” The ladies told him, when the tournament ended an hour later.

  Avery had just finished packing up the bingo cart when she caught a glimpse of Ginger walking in the main entrance. “Quick! Out the side door.” She hissed at Rip.

  While the AV tech unhooked the cords, the two of them dashed out into the hall just as an elevator arrived. From there, they went up to the spa so that Rip could swim in the lap pool. Being a concierge level guest meant no one batted at eyelash at anything he did, including asking for the tags to be removed from his brand new swim trunks.

  However, when he emerged from the dressing room clad in only the trunks and a towel around his neck, every woman in the place gave him a long look. One of the young Asian cleaning staff actually gasped aloud, then ducked behind the juice bar with a nervous giggle. Avery could understand why. The man looked every bit as good as he had back in his football days. Not an ounce of fat anywhere she could see, just lots of muscles rippling under his beautiful bronze skin.

  Holy moly, she was glad she’d declined joining him in the pool! She doubted she could compare with how she’d looked ten years ago.

  “What?” Rip demanded, and Avery realized she’d been chewing her bottom lip in concentration.

  She tossed her head so that her ponytail swirled across her cheek while she settled on a diversion. “Since when did you get a tatoo?”

  He glanced at the ornate fleur de lis on his left shoulder and shrugged. “In the NFL. They were practically a requirement, and I did play that one season for New Orleans.”

  “Oh, I just knew you were a football player!” cooed a middle-aged woman in a leopard print bikini who sidled up to Rip.

  “Nope, sorry. I own a sports bar in LA.” Then he tossed his towel to Avery. “Tell me when a half-hour is up.” And he jumped into the pool.

  Though he had easily brushed the woman aside, Avery didn’t get so lucky.

  “I’m sure I’ve seen him before,” the woman insisted in a conspiratorial whisper. Avery noted that she’d obviously had quite a bit of work done on her face and body to try and look under forty. She should have saved her money.

  “What did you say his name was?” The woman persisted.

  “James Brown,” Avery replied, then turned and walked to the other end of the pool.

  Rip swam steadily for the entire half-hour, pausing just long enough to switch swim strokes. Fortunately, Ms. Leopard Bikini gave up after a few minutes and went elsewhere. When Avery signaled him that time was done, he crawled out, dried off, and asked if they could just chill for awhile. They found a pair of chaise lounges in a secluded corner, and Rip pulled out his new sunglasses before he laid back to relax.

  Avery asked him about the sports bar and discovered that he and his two partners actually owned three of them in the Los Angeles area. That led to a foray down memory lane and they bought up some of the places they used to frequent when they were college students.

  Finally Rip stretched his arms and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Guess I really should get back to W— Mr. Smith. What time is dinner?”

  “Holy moly!” Avery glanced at her watch and leaped to her feet. “I have to get ready for the first show in the main theater!”

  “You’re performing?” Rip’s tone sounded eager. “I’ll wait for dinner.”

  She helped him gather up his bags of clothes while she explained. “Not exactly, I’m more of the emcee, and there are two shows, so you really shouldn’t wait. Plus, Smith won’t want you out of his sight.”

  “Let me worry about Smith,” he said, his hand covering hers as he took both bags. “Same dining room as lunch? Will you be done by ten?”

  “I—” She meant to tell him no, but the warmth of his touch sent a sizzle of awareness right up her arm. “Ten-thirty is better, and I’ll come up to your suite.”

  He pulled the tag off one of the Tshirts and slipped it over his head. “Go ahead. Don’t worry, I can find my way back.”

  Feeling a tug of reluctance at leaving him, Avery turned and rushed for the elevators.

  When she got to her room on one of the lowest levels of the ship, she found Ginger spraying her hair into the consistency of orange-red chicken wire.

  “OOO!” Her roommate exclaimed, batting her thick false eyelashes. “I thought I’d be handling the theater alone tonight, since you have your special assignment.”

  “I wouldn’t miss going onstage for the world,” Avery replied, rummaging in her side of the closet for her outfit and refusing to give her meddlesome adversary any information she might possibly use against her. As far as Avery was concerned, the woman was a snake.

  “So how is it that Mr. Brown knew to ask for you by name?” Ginger asked with obviously fake coyness as she dusted even more rouge on her already blazing cheeks.

  Stifling the urge to demand, Who told you? Avery blurted out, “We went to college together.” Then immediately regretted her verbal slip up.

  Ginger’s green eyes narrowed at the information. “So you two must have been a hot item for him to remember you.”

  “As a matter of fact, we were just friends. He was dating one of my sorority sisters.” With her change of clothes all laid out on her bed, Avery kicked off her shoes and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll meet you backstage in a few minutes.”

  “So is he single now?” The other woman asked, seemingly undaunted.

  “I didn’t ask,” Avery answered honestly, though she’d noticed right away that Rip didn’t wear a wedding ring. Surely he would have mentioned a girlfriend, wouldn’t he?

  She reached inside the minuscule bathroom and turned on the shower but Ginger still didn’t budge.

  “He’s such a hunk, so tall and good looking,” the annoying busybody gushed. She suddenly gave Avery a sly look. “Is he… you know — black?”

  Indignation raced down Avery’s spine at the insensitive question. Giving Ginger her most haughty glare, she said, “No. I’d definitely say he is cafe au lait.” Then she stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Chapter 3

  Concierge level guests had their own box seats in a special balcony of the Imperial theater, Rip learned. He sat in the second seat of the four in the front row. Williams sat beside him on the aisle with his swollen ankle propped on a cushion and a hostile scowl on his face. When Rip asked Nadeesh to do a rush cleaning of his suit so that he could go to the theater, Williams came unglued. After a fifteen minute argument over Rip attending the theater alone, he finally gave in and agreed to let the CIA agent accompany him.

  While their harried butler rushed about sending out both men’s suits, arranging for a wheelchair for Williams, and o
rdering sandwiches from room service, they missed the first show, a tribute to Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals. Since the balcony couldn’t accommodate wheelchairs, Williams had to hobble from the door to his seat thereby worsening his already foul mood.

  “Seven and seven,” he growled at the waiter who appeared beside their seats.

  Rip ordered a beer. He might own three bars, but ironically, he didn’t really like hard liquor.

  The waiter no sooner returned with their drinks than the lights dimmed. A male announcer came on and welcomed everyone, ending with, “Here are your co-cruise directors, Ginger Judd and Avery Knox!”

  Apparently the second show was a repeat of the first, for the curtain went up to reveal a montage of Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals posters. The irritating red-head skated onto the stage warbling somewhat off-key, “Starlight Express! Starlight Express!”

  Then the posters parted, and Avery stood at the top of a wide staircase in a tight black dress with a shiny gold jacket, her blonde hair swept back into an elegant roll. She belted out a couple of lines from “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina,” and the audience burst into applause, none more enthusiastically than Rip.

  As Avery swept down the stairs, Williams leaned over and muttered, “If you let her get away, you’re dumber than you look.”

  Ignoring him, Rip settled back and enjoyed watching Avery make her brief introduction. She looked poised and elegant while Ginger appeared to be a clumsy buffoon, and Rip didn’t think the latter was purely an act. After a few quick minutes of banter, the two women exited in opposite directions and the show started.

  While the singers and dancers proved mildly entertaining, Rip mostly let his mind wander. An odd twist of fate had thrown him and Avery together the first time. Now an even odder twist had brought them together again. This could be just another brief encounter, but after spending most of the day with Avery, brief wasn’t what he wanted. They might not be the same people they’d been ten years ago, but he liked what he’d seen today and he was pretty sure she had too. Getting a second chance at anything was rare, and he wasn’t going to blow this one.

  Williams polished off his drink and ordered another, but Rip waved away a second beer. He’d wait and share a bottle of champagne with Avery. Maybe even take her dancing. An opportunity to hold her in his arms for whatever reason sounded pretty darn appealing.

  After one huge finale number, the cast took their bows, then Avery and Ginger came back out. Without her roller skates, the red-head barely came up to Avery’s shoulder. They took turns telling the audience what to expect tomorrow when the ship docked in San Juan.

  “Gotta hand it to you, Pollendene,” Williams said with a grudging kind of envious tone. “You know how to pick a bodyguard.”

  Rip couldn’t keep his huge grin under control. “Good, then you’ll understand why I’m meeting her for a late dinner in fifteen minutes.” Then he climbed over Williams’ outstretched leg and sprinted out of the balcony.

  “Wait a minute!” He heard the agent call after him, but he didn’t stop.

  Like a salmon battling his way upstream, Rip dodged through the crowd who were exiting the theater. When he finally got close to the stage, most everyone was gone. He stood at the corner of the stage near the stairs, waiting for one of the stage crew or performers to notice him. Unfortunately, Ginger was the first one to see him. He caught a glimpse of her full white skirt across the stage in the wings, and when she turned, she waved at him.

  “Hi Mr. Brown!” Her high pitched squeal made Rip clench his teeth as she dashed across the stage.

  “Hi, is Avery still backstage?”

  “I’m right here.”

  Ginger’s smile disintegrated at the familiar voice. Rip looked over his shoulder and saw Avery standing near the top of the stairs looking so gorgeous he suddenly felt like a fourteen year old in the throes of his first crush.

  “We, ah… we have dinner reservations.” Oh shit! He even sounded like a kid.

  As Avery descended the stairs, Ginger piped up, “OOO! I’m starving. Mind if I join you?”

  Her tactless question dispelled Rip’s adolescent lapse. “Sorry,” he said smoothly. “The reservation is for two. Now if you’ll excuse us?”

  He offered Avery his arm, and the two of them left Ginger standing on the edge of the stage.

  They had dinner at the same secluded table where they’d had lunch. A bottle of champagne sat chilling in an ice bucket beside the table and they wasted no time draining it, making one silly toast after another.

  The two of them were the last people to leave the restaurant. Rip felt pleasantly buzzed as they strolled toward the elevators.

  “Is there any place still open where we can have at least one dance?” he asked.

  Smiling, Avery glanced at her wristwatch and then back up into his face. He really liked the fact that when she was in heels, they were almost eye-to-eye. “We dock at 7 AM and I have to be down in the lobby helping guests disembark.”

  “Just one.” Rip insisted as they stepped into the empty elevator. He gave her what he hoped was a convincing grin. “It will only take ten minutes, fifteen tops.”

  Raising her eyebrows, Avery pushed the button for deck fourteen. “Does that smile always get you what you want?”

  “Pretty often,” he admitted, and winked.

  “The Horizon Lounge is right below your suite anyway,” she said as the elevator doors slid open. “If we’re lucky, the jazz quartet will still be playing.”

  Their timing turned out to be off by a couple of minutes. The place was empty except for the bar staff, and the band members were packing up their instruments.

  “C’mon guys,” Rip cajoled. “Just one song? I’ve been waiting all night to dance with the lady.”

  The saxophone player looked from him to Avery and back to him again. Then he pulled the mouthpiece out of his case and stuck it back on his horn. “I’ll be there in five,” he said to the other three, who shook their heads as they walked away.

  Rip gave the older man a good-natured thump on the back. “Suu-weet! Thanks! I owe you, man.”

  He grabbed Avery’s hand and pulled her to the center of the dance floor as the mellow strains of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” filled the air. She fit into his arms as perfectly as he’d imagined she would. He didn’t have to hunch his shoulders like he did with shorter women, and his hand easily spanned her back. They moved effortlessly together as if they’d danced with each other for years. He should have done this years ago.

  Closing his eyes, he pulled her just a little closer. Her soft cheek brushed his jaw, making him wish they could keep dancing for the rest of the night. But all too soon, the sax held the last few notes of the song in a lingering farewell.

  His eyes popped open when Avery stopped moving as the final note hung between them. “Good night, Rip,” she whispered, and glided out of his arms and into the darkness.

  ***

  The next morning, Avery rubbed her gritty eyes with her fingertips, but it didn’t help because lack of sleep was the culprit. She prided herself on being able to fall asleep almost anywhere and sleep through almost anything.

  Not last night.

  After she’d left Rip standing on the dance floor of the Horizon Lounge, she hurried back to her room. Luckily, Ginger had been firmly off in dreamland and didn’t rouse when Avery arrived, undressed, and crawled into bed. However, sleep eluded her. Instead, she tossed and turned and thought about Rip.

  He couldn’t have picked a worse time to walk back into her life. This was the very first week of her new six month contract, which was stressful enough. Plus, she’d just transferred from the west coast to Florida so that she could be closer to her parents, who lived in Gainsville. The last thing she needed was a romantic relationship, but seeing and being near Rip made her think of little else.

  Why did he have to be so great looking, funny, and obviously interested in her too?

  Then there was the whole crazy situation with the CI
A being interested in his father’s family. What in the world was that all about? Avery could scarcely believe it was for real. But if it was, she had a bad feeling that she didn’t want to be involved.

  So where did that leave her and Rip? Exactly nowhere.

  Stifling a yawn, she passed out maps to the guests headed for the gangway, and tried to sound chipper. “Welcome to San Juan. Enjoy your day.”

  In spite of it being the first week of October, the already humid air promised a hot and sticky day and Avery did not relish the idea of being out in the heat. A nap, if she could manage to grab one, would have to be in her air conditioned room, a place Ginger could barge into at any given moment. Avery had managed to avoid her ever since Ginger’s gauche attempt to join her and Rip for dinner last night. But sooner or later, Avery knew her aggravating roommate would catch up with her, and she dreaded the meeting.

  When she ran out of maps, she walked a few steps over to the customer service counter to grab another handful. But when she turned to go back to the main lobby, one of the young staff manning the counter stopped her. “Miss Knox? You have a phone call.”

  Taking the extended phone receiver, she had a pretty good idea who was calling and the thought made her giddy as a teenager.

  “Hello, sunshine.” Rip’s husky voice greeted as soon as she said her name. “Our buddy Mr. Smith has me confined to quarters after last night. How soon before you can come and rescue me?”

  Just the sound of his voice made little surges of pleasure race up and down her spine.

  Bad sign. Very bad sign.

  She took a deep breath and spoke in her brusque business tone. “Sorry, I’m on duty here at the gangway for at least three more hours.”

  “Lunch then,” he said with a detectable note of disappointment. “Since I can’t meet you, do you want me to order something here from room service?”

  Avery could feel her thin shell of resolve eroding with his every word. “I — All right, I’ll be there at noon.”