His Reluctant Bodyguard

by Loucinda McGary

  Avery, looking visibly shaken herself, reached for his hand. “Come on. Sick bay is just around the corner.”

  Swallowing down his growing anxiety, he let her lead him. Williams limped along behind them.

  The doctor looked a bit perturbed at first, then alarmed as he cut away the remnants of Rip’s T-shirt sleeve. The bullet had grazed a shallow four inch wound on the outside edge of his arm. Shaking his head, the doctor cleaned and bandaged the laceration and asked when Rip last had a tetanus shot. When Rip couldn’t recall, Dr. Samuelson gave him a stinging injection in his uninjured arm while Avery and Williams looked on. Then the doctor told him to change the dressing tomorrow and come back if it looked inflamed.

  “Please, gentlemen,” Samuelson said to both men. “Try to stay in one piece.”

  Back out in the empty corridor, Williams returned to dictatorial mode. “I talked to the Captain as soon as I heard from Davis. He agreed to let us remain on board until we reach Martinique, but we have to assume this cover is blown. That means absolutely no wandering around. Effective immediately you are both confined to quarters.”

  Avery’s mouth flew open. “But — but I have a job.”

  “Not for the next two days you don’t.” Williams retorted. “Too many people have seen the two of you together around the ship. That’s how I knew you went ashore. Your roommate told me she saw you leaving.”

  “Crap,” Avery muttered.

  Rip’s fear came thundering back. If he and Williams could weasel their way onto Valiant, someone else could too. Someone who might harm Avery to get to him. He couldn’t let her out of his sight!

  Fighting to keep the panic out of his voice, he told her, “You can stay in the suite with us.”

  But Williams shook his head. “The suite’s too easily accessible. We need to stay someplace less vulnerable. I’ve asked the Captain for two inside cabins. One way in and one way out.”

  “T-two?” Avery asked, her brow furrowed with confusion.

  But Rip was already a step ahead. “She’s staying with me!”

  “Calm down, lover boy,” Williams said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m one step ahead of you. But I’m only telling you this once, if you poke so much as a toenail outside the door before we get to Martinique, I move in and —”

  “I get the picture,” Rip interrupted while Avery sputtered, no doubt at his high-handed tone.

  A moment later, they reached the elevator and Williams continued his over-bearing manner. “Nadeesh is meeting us at your cabin, Miss Knox, with new key cards. I’ll give you five minutes to pack a few things.”

  Once inside the elevator, Avery cast a withering glance at Williams, but addressed Rip. “I’m only doing this so I won’t have your blood on my conscience.”

  Rip decided the smartest thing he could do was keep quiet. When the elevator stopped, she stomped out without looking at either of them. Their hapless butler stood in the otherwise empty hallway, and Williams took him aside after pointedly looking at his watch.

  However, as soon as Avery opened her cabin door a familiar screech greeted them and her red-haired roommate bounded out. “There you are! OOOO! Hi Mr. Brown. Hi Mr. Smith.”

  “Not now, Ginger.” Avery brusquely pushed past and pulled a duffle bag from under the bed. Without a pause she opened the closet and threw several pieces of clothing into the bag.

  Wide-eyed, Ginger asked, “Is something wrong?”

  Williams shoved everyone inside the cabin and closed the door before he turned and eyed Ginger up and down. “Do you have a blonde wig?”

  ***

  Aggravation and indignation still seethed through Avery’s bloodstream as she unpacked her few toiletry items in the miniscule bathroom. Then she hung her four pieces of clothes in the closet and shoved her unmentionables into the top drawer of the built-in cabinet. She started to tell Rip she was using the second drawer for dirty clothes, but remembered she was giving him the ‘silent treatment.’

  Apparently he wasn’t clear on the silent concept for he said in an overly cheerful tone, “This is cozy.”

  She glared at him as she shoved her make-up and hair brush into the top drawer of the vanity-desk combo. This room was almost identical in size and lay out to the cabin she shared with Ginger, so Avery was used to the tight quarters. But this had to be a real come-down for Rip after the luxury of a concierge suite.

  Good! Served him right. She thought crossly, giving him another austere look.

  Rip sat propped against the headboard of one of the small twin beds which were shoved against each wall. Even in a sitting position, his feet reached the end of the mattress, and if he rolled over, he’d most likely fall onto the floor. She almost hoped he would.

  As if guessing her thoughts, he sighed. “Gimme a break, Avery. Please? I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “You should have told me someone shot at you in Miami,” she blurted, unable to remain mute any longer. “I wouldn’t have let you leave the ship if I’d known.”

  “I honestly didn’t think —”

  “And that’s always been your problem, Rip Pollendene! You don’t think. You jump in and let the consequences fall where they may.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly in an effort to calm her frayed nerves.

  When Avery lifted her eyelids, he looked properly chastised.

  “My instincts are usually pretty good.”

  “Well, this time pretty good almost got you killed.” Remembering how close that bullet had come left her shaky, so she sat on the other bed. In truth, she was more angry at herself than at him.

  “If I admit, once again, that I acted like an idiot, can we please call a truce?” Rip asked with a sad puppy-dog look guaranteed to melt her annoyance.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said, kicking off her shoes. “But my lack of sleep last night has wiped me out, so I’m going to take a nap.”

  “Will it keep you awake if I take a shower?”

  “No.” Avery stretched out facing the wall and willed herself not to think about Rip naked a few feet away in that tiny bathroom.

  Apparently, she was more tired than even she realized for she drifted off before she even heard the water running, and didn’t wake up for over two hours. The phone woke her up. It rang twice and stopped, the prearranged signal that either Smith or Nadeesh would shortly be at the door. Smith had given strict orders that they were not to open the door for anyone else, and only for him or Nadeesh if they signaled first.

  As Avery sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, Rip flipped on the bedside lamp. He wore one of the white terry robes included in all the cabins, and he looked like he’d been napping too. For a split second she wondered if he had on anything under the robe, but she quickly shook the thought away.

  “I’ll get it,” she said, slipping her feet into her shoes.

  She waited by the door for five minutes before she heard the faint rap. Looking out the peek-hole just to be sure, she saw Nadeesh standing beside a serving cart, gazing nervously from side to side. When Avery opened the door, the little man shoved Rip’s duffle bag at her, all the while gazing wide-eyed down the empty corridor.

  “Please Miss, hurry,” he hissed, jumpy as a frightened mouse.

  Dropping the bag next to the closet door, Avery took the loaded food tray he held out. She barely got it inside before Nadeesh pulled the door closed, and she heard the squeak of the cart wheels as he dashed away.

  Boy, did Smith have him rattled.

  Shaking her head, she negotiated the few steps from the door to the main room and deposited the tray on the shelf over the fridge, which also held the coffee maker.

  “Dinner at last,” Rip said, and then he stepped around her to retrieve his bag. “And clean clothes too.”

  “Actually, I think this is dinner and breakfast.” Avery put a bowl of fruit on one corner of the vanity, and another bowl with mini-boxes of cereal next to it. She had to rearrange the bottles of liquor and cans of
soda inside the fridge to make room for the carafe of milk. One of the two remaining plates was piled high with sandwiches, while the other held bags of potato chips and a dozen or so cookies. Hardly the usual cruise ship fare.

  Rip reappeared from the bathroom wearing gym shorts and a clean T-shirt. He eyed the sandwiches with a wry expression. “I guess we should be thankful Smith didn’t put us on bread and water.”

  “Maybe that’ll be lunch,” Avery suggested, grabbing a bag of chips and half a ham on rye.

  She sat in the chair from the vanity while Rip sat on the small sofa near the foot of her bed. He seemed to dwarf the furnishings and fill up all the available space in the room. How was she going to survive another thirty-six hours in such constant close proximity with him?

  Narrowing his eyes, Rip looked from her bag of chips to his. “Why do you get the sour cream and onion and I’m stuck with plain?”

  “Ladies first,” she said with a toss of her head. “If you’re lucky, I might let you have first choice of the cereal.”

  He polished off the rest of his sandwich and reached around her to snag the plastic bowl with the boxes. “Never mind, there’s two of each, and I know you’re a fair person who will share-and-share-alike.”

  Avery couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “And what if I don’t?”

  Then she tried to grab one of the boxes, but Rip stood and held the bowl over his head. “Ever hear that saying ‘Possession is nine-tenths of the law’?”

  “Give me those!” She put down her food, got up and poked him in the arm.

  “Ow! Hey, I’m injured.” He protested, switching the bowl to his other hand and keeping it out of her reach.

  “Sissy!” She jumped and knocked the bowl from his grasp.

  Cereal boxes went flying. They both rushed to grab them and crashed together, falling onto her bed. She landed on top of him, and instantly regretted starting this bit of horseplay. Clearly, parts of him were quite aroused. She scrambled back into her chair muttering, “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not.” Rip stepped closer and fingered a strand of hair hanging over her eye. “I’m happy as hell that we’re finally alone.”

  Heat pulsed in the tiny space between them, scrambling Avery’s thoughts and stealing her breath. He ran the lock of hair over his lips before he dropped it and feathered a kiss across her cheek.

  “Can we push these two beds together and make one nice big one?” he asked, his breath hot and tempting on her face.

  Heaven knew she wanted to! Her traitorous body tingled with the need to touch him, be touched by him…

  This was a very big mistake! Avery’s practical side kicked in enough to let her dig her nails into her palm. The sudden pain broke the erotic spell.

  “No way. That is not happening.” She shook her head emphatically to convince herself, while Rip pulled back with a confused expression. “People come into my life in seven to ten day increments. I learned fast that the only way to survive is to not get involved.”

  “But we’re different,” Rip insisted. “We have a history, and we’ll have a future too, if you’ll let us.”

  Summoning every ounce of will power, Avery pushed him away, refusing to meet his dark eyes. “It’s not up to me. You won’t even be here in two more days, so whatever it is you want from me, Rip, the cost is too high.” Before she could change her mind, she ducked around him. “Now, I’m going to take a shower and wash my hair.”

  Normally, she didn’t completely dry her hair, but tonight she did, lecturing herself to the hum of the dryer. She reminded herself for about the nineteenth time of her newly started six month contract. Only a half day off every week wasn’t enough for any couple, as she’d learned from past experience. Even if Rip did come back in a week or two, logic told her that their relationship was doomed.

  Unable to postpone the inevitable any longer, she emerged from the bathroom and stepped into the main room of the cabin. She wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Rip watching football highlights.

  At her approach, he looked up, then did a double take. “Wow, that is a truly ugly nightgown.”

  Avery looked down at her blue nightshirt covered with white daisies and black and yellow bumblebees, then rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell my mother you said so.”

  Propping herself up against the headboard, she did some repair and smoothing of her nails. Soon, the football show ended and Rip channel surfed.

  “Uh oh,” he intoned, and Avery looked up to see a weather map with an ominous swirl of clouds hovering on the edge of the Caribbean. “Looks like tropical storm Leah might be headed our direction.”

  “Don’t worry,” she assured. “Most of those storms are pretty slow moving so the ship has no problem staying out of their paths.”

  Rip stared at the TV for several more moments, munching on a cookie. “I’m more worried about it hitting Benezet. I could get stuck there if the storm does too much damage.”

  Avery listened intently to the meteorologist before she spoke. “They’re not even sure it’ll reach hurricane status. I can’t imagine boat service being interrupted for more than a few days.”

  “It’ll probably miss the island completely,” he said, flipping the channel. “I don’t think they’ve had a hurricane hit in ten or twelve years.” He clicked through several more channels before he stopped and exclaimed, “Hey, is this… Suuu-weet, it is — Key Largo, speaking of hurricanes. Mind if we watch?”

  “I think it’s about half over already, but sure.” She put down her nail file and plumped her pillows. “I haven’t seen it in ages. Have you?”

  He shook his head and settled back against his own headboard. “My father was a huge Bogart fan. Matter of fact, I’m named after a character Bogart played.”

  She gave him a skeptical glance. “No you’re not. Your initials are R-I-P.”

  “That too, but my father did it on purpose. In the movie Dead Reckoning, Bogie played a guy named Rip Murdock.”

  “You never told me that before,” Avery said, still doubtful.

  “I never thought about it much.” Rip got up, helped himself to another cookie and offered her one. “But I saw the movie for the first time a couple of years ago during a Bogie marathon on the classic cable channel.”

  Chewing thoughtfully on her cookie, she watched Edward G. Robinson threaten Lauren Bacall. “Well, I guess it’s better than being named after office supplies.”

  Rip choked on his cookie. When he finally stopped coughing he wheezed, “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Of course I am.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her grin. “My mother knew a girl in school named Avery and she liked it. But Stan used to tease me and call me Avery Labels.” She stopped short, caught up in the action on the screen. “Holy moly! I forgot about this part!”

  “Me too.” Rip seemed equally enthralled with the storyline, which left her relieved. She wasn’t so sure she could resist his advances again.

  By the time Bogie dispatched the bad guys and returned to Lauren, Avery’s eyelids kept drifting closed. Rip looked over just as she yawned. “Guess you don’t want to watch anything else?”

  “Mmmm,” she answered, crawling under the duvet. “But you can if you like. It won’t bother me.”

  “Naw, I’m ready to call it a night too.” He switched off the TV and then the bedside lamp. Complete blackness cloaked the room, but his voice murmured through the dark. “Good night, Avery Labels.”

  The sound of the shower woke her up the next morning. Glancing at the bedside clock, Avery groaned. Rip was certainly an early riser. As she rolled over, she realized one of her legs was sticking out of the covers, bare most of the way up her thigh.

  Great way to start the day, by giving him a peep show.

  She got up, went over to the vanity and ran the brush through her tangled hair, hoping Rip would finish up quickly. Sharing a bathroom with a guy was not convenient. Avery stood by the door fidget
ing until he emerged. He had on gym shorts, but no shirt, though she hardly noticed as she dashed around him and slammed the bathroom door.

  When she came out a few minutes later, dressed in sweat pants and oversized T-shirt, Rip had brewed coffee and almost finished his cereal. The two remaining boxes, one of each variety, sat beside an empty bowl on the vanity. She helped herself to coffee and a pear, then the cereal. He snagged an apple and turned on the TV — sports again. She finished eating in silence.

  Gathering all the dirty dishes onto the tray, Avery carefully set everything on the floor outside the door. Far down the hall, two room stewards had set up their linen cart, but they didn’t pause or look in her direction as she quickly closed the door and turned the dead bolt lock.

  After brushing her teeth, Avery took her bottle of nail polish, clipper and files, and sat in the middle of her bed to give herself a pedicure. In the midst of her filing and buffing, she heard a muffled noise from Rip, then the TV clicked off and next thing she knew, he was doing push-ups in the middle of the room. Next, he switched to stomach crunches. By the time she applied the second coat of Peachy Keen polish to her toes, he’d done some running in place cardio, cooled down and gone back for another shower.

  While he was in there, Avery did some stretches and a few yoga moves to relieve her burgeoning tension headache. When that didn’t work, she ate a cookie. Rip came back and switched the TV on, finally settling on a soccer game between two Dominican Republic teams.

  The long morning dragged on, and when noon passed with no food delivery, the two of them ate the rest of the fruit and cookies. Tension stretched so thickly between them that they gave up any pretense of small talk. The phone finally rang at a quarter of two and an apologetic Nadeesh arrived five minutes later with burgers, a huge container of potato salad, and more fruit.

  With minimal conversation, they dispatched everything but two oranges. At one point, Rip broke into spontaneous exercise again. When Avery tried to join him, he turned his back to finish his third repetition of crunches, then dashed into the shower again. At this rate, she’d have to use one of the pool towels. She checked the top shelf in the closet just to be sure the two supplied in every passenger cabin were there.