Keeping Her Safe

by Myrna Mackenzie

  Natalie shook her head. “You were still angry. I shouldn’t have touched you. Anyone might have lost control under the circumstances,” she whispered. Meaning the same might have happened had she been any other woman under the same circumstances. She tried not to allow herself to think of that.

  “I’m not anyone. I’m a man who knows his limits and lives by them. You’re a client. I don’t touch my clients.”

  She bit her lip, then asked the question his comment called up. “You haven’t done this before?”

  He ran one hand through his short, dark hair. “Damn it, Natalie.”

  Her throat felt as if her heart had risen up and lodged there. “You have done this before?” Of course, he was an undeniably handsome man. Women would throw themselves at him. Cast into the role of protector, he would have women begging him to make love with them.

  “Of course it hasn’t happened. What kind of man do you think I am?”

  A sexy one, she thought. A good one.

  She nodded curtly. “I wasn’t implying that you weren’t professional.”

  “I was implying that,” he said. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. I’m not supposed to touch you.”

  “I upset you.”

  “That’s no excuse.” He paced away from her, and she wanted to reach out one hand and ask him to come back and kiss her again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She felt out of control. Worse, she was letting a man have control over her. She hated that. It went against everything she had fought for all her life. But he was blaming himself for what had just happened, and if Natalie was anything, she was honest. She had provoked him.

  “I pushed you,” she said. “I’ll bet you’re not used to having female clients who run toward danger instead of away from it. I sneaked out on you when you weren’t expecting it. I made your job more difficult. You probably weren’t thinking straight. You probably didn’t even know what you were doing.”

  Vincent’s laugh was a rough bark. “I might have behaved irresponsibly, Natalie, but I knew exactly what I was doing when I kissed you. I knew I was touching forbidden fruit. So you don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m not allowed to blame my clients for my own bad behavior.”

  So he wouldn’t touch her again. An amazingly strong stirring of loss and disappointment welled up in Natalie. She knew what those women who had thrown themselves at him must have been feeling. It was one of the few times in her life when she had felt in tune with her own sex.

  It was a disturbing feeling, a helpless feeling. She didn’t like it one bit. No doubt about it. Kissing Vincent Fortune wasn’t a good idea.

  She probably shouldn’t hope he would change his mind and do it again.

  But somewhere deep inside, she knew that she wanted to have him kiss her one more time. Just to see if she had been mistaken about how powerful his touch had been, she told herself. That was the only reason.

  “Vincent, I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I suppose you had your reasons for running to The Ladder tonight,” he said.

  But that wasn’t what she had meant. She wasn’t sorry about The Ladder. That had been one of the necessary parts of her job. What she was sorry about was that now the two of them would be wary around each other. The memory of that kiss would linger in the air whenever they were together.

  And Vincent wasn’t going to like that one little bit, she thought with a trace of sadness. He didn’t like the fact that he had kissed her.

  No doubt he was sorry he had ever met her.

  “They’ll be sorry,” Jason said, clipping out the snippets of text from a magazine and then gluing them onto the cheap paper he had purchased. That he had been reduced to this—hiding, using inferior materials and out-of-date methods—was unforgivable.

  He was Jason Jamison, not some beggar, not some nobody. His prison break had taken so much of his time and attention, he hadn’t been able to send notes lately, but now he was back…in so many ways.

  Those who had wronged his grandfather and wronged him would see that what goes around comes around. Jason Jamison would get what he deserved.

  And so would anyone who attempted to harm him.

  He eyed the cheap room with its soiled bed. “What a dump. It’s all their fault, but that’s okay. The tables will be turned soon enough.”

  And until that day came, he thought, eyeing his handiwork, he would make sure that those who were responsible for his predicament never had a good night’s sleep.

  A slow chuckle welled up in his chest. He took a long, satisfied drag on his cigarette. “Oh yeah, this is good,” he said, looking down at the crude note on the table.

  In spite of the poor workmanship, they would know the source of this missive, and they would be forever looking over their shoulders.

  Waiting, waiting, for something to happen. Something very bad.

  In time it would.

  And that would be very good. For him.

  Jason laughed again, took out a new sheet of paper and began again. The clock was ticking.

  The clock was his friend.

  Time was running out, Ryan Fortune thought the next day. The headaches were getting worse. The pain of not being able to tell his beloved Lily what was happening to him was like a sword in his gut. He loved her so much. He had kept so many secrets from her.

  Would she ever be able to forgive him? Would he ever be able to tell her everything?

  Yes. Yes, he had to. In time. But they had just gotten over the hurdle of her finding out about Linda Faraday, the young woman Cameron Fortune had impregnated and nearly killed when he’d gotten drunk and wrecked his car, killing himself. Linda had been in a semi-conscious state for years, had even given birth in that state, and was just now getting her life back. During all that time Ryan had been forced to move heaven and earth to keep her secret and keep the public and the press from finding out. After all, she was the mother of his irresponsible brother’s son. As the head of the family, Ryan had owed her that much. He had even kept Lily in the dark about Linda and her son, Ricky. And in the end, after Linda had regained consciousness and was trying to get her life back together, when Lily had seen him with Linda, it had nearly broken his wife’s heart. It had nearly cost him everything he loved most in life. He might have lost Lily over that one. Thank heaven he had her back, and she still loved him.

  He wanted more years of loving her, of just reveling in what they meant to each other. So damn it, it was just too soon to tell her the truth about these headaches. It would hurt her so much. It would change things. It would mean the end of so many things for him and Lily. If they were to only have a short while, he wanted that time to be spent loving, not worrying and regretting. That meant keeping one more thing from Lily. He hated that, hated himself for doing this to her, and yet…

  Ryan ran a hand over his forehead. He cursed fate for forcing him to this point.

  “You’re not well,” his cousin Patrick said, and Ryan looked up, startled. When had Patrick come into the room?

  “I’m fine,” Ryan said, but he knew his voice lacked conviction. Patrick had always known him too well. It was good to be that close to someone you trusted.

  Patrick shook his head. “It’s no use, Ryan. You hide your condition in front of Lily, but I’m not your wife. You don’t have to protect me. I know how much pressure is on you as the head of the Fortune family and empire, and I can see what a toll keeping things to yourself takes on you. I’ve known you all our lives, and I know that if you’re keeping this a secret from everyone, it’s bad—and it’s private. So you can trust me. Tell me.”

  Ryan blew out a long breath. He looked to the side. “It’s time you knew, anyway. Decisions have to be made.”

  Patrick shook his head and frowned. “Explain.”

  Throwing out his hand, Ryan chose the blunt path. He explained everything. When he was done, Patrick let out a low, shaky whistle. “That’s rough, Ryan. I’m sorry. More sorry than I can tell you.”

  “It means a lot just to have you here to
listen. I would have told you sooner, but I’m only just now starting to come to grips with the news myself and…well, it’s time to start getting things in order.”

  “You’ll tell Lily?”

  “Not yet, please, not just yet. But could you get Blake? I think the three of us have some business to tend to.”

  “I’ll do anything you want or need.” Patrick grasped his cousin’s hand, and it was all Ryan could do to keep his grateful tears from falling.

  When Blake entered the room a short time later, it was with a confused look on his face. “Patrick told me that you had business to discuss with me. I don’t quite understand.”

  Ryan stood and shook Blake’s hand. “It’s family business, and it’s private. You qualify. You have the right to be here. In fact, I need you to be here. Have a seat.”

  The three men sat. Patrick rubbed one hand over his jaw as Ryan tried to find the words once again.

  “I’ve recently found out that I have an inoperable brain tumor,” Ryan told Blake.

  Blake stared as if Ryan had struck him. “You’re dying?”

  Ryan nodded. “I’ve been checked out by two doctors. They both concur. There’s nothing they can do to save me. Anything I do, I have to do soon.”

  Pain filled Blake’s eyes and he closed them. “I’m so sorry. I— Damn it, all these years gone. I wish I had gotten to know you sooner.”

  Ryan managed to smile. “That makes two of us. You’ve become a good friend, Blake. Lately I realize just how important family is. I count both you and Patrick as not only family but as the best friends a man can know, and I’ll need to be able to rely on the two of you to see that things go right when I’m gone. To make sure that Lily doesn’t have to handle everything alone.”

  “You know you can count on us.” Patrick’s voice wobbled a bit.

  “Of course. Anything,” Blake said. “Are you…in pain?”

  Ryan nodded. “Yes. Although I’m taking medication for that, it never really goes away. But I’m coping.”

  “The family reunion scheduled for May,” Blake began. “I know a lot of work has already gone into that. I’ll take care of canceling things for you so you won’t have to concentrate on that. It’s the least I can do.”

  Ryan put out his hand and touched Blake’s sleeve. “No, I still want to go through with it.”

  “Ryan,” Patrick drawled. “Are you sure?”

  Ryan looked at the two men before him, strong men who had dealt with their own blows in life. Men who knew about difficulties and pain and endurance. His friends, his cousins, his brothers in life.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said. “There have been so many bad things happening lately—to all of us. I want to bring us all together, the young and the old, in a good setting this time. The Fortunes need to stay together, and they will have a reunion. Help me to make that possible. Please.”

  Patrick and Blake put out their hands, covering Ryan’s.

  “Whatever you want,” Patrick said.

  “Whatever you need, it’s yours,” Blake said. “We’ll help you. That’s a solemn promise.”

  What more could a man ask for than that? Ryan wondered.

  Ten

  Maybe she was asking too much of herself, Natalie thought a day later as Vincent emerged from the bathroom and a shower, his hair wet, his body smelling of soap. She shivered. Since when had the smell of soap made her tingle? Since when had wet hair made it difficult to breathe?

  Living with Vincent was doing odd, impossible things to her system, and she kept beating up on herself about it. But maybe that was just unfair. What woman wouldn’t react to a man who looked like a promise of paradise in bed and who had sworn his life to protect her from both the bad guys and his own natural sexual impulses?

  A woman with frozen slush for brains? Natalie wondered. A woman with no vital signs? Of course, she was attracted. It was okay to be attracted. Any woman would be. Best to just accept that so she could get beyond it and get back to her life and her business.

  All she needed to do was stop acting like an idiot, wishing Vincent would kiss her again, and start acting like any normal, intelligent, indifferent person.

  She pasted a smile on her face and breezed past Vincent, heading for the coffeepot. His warmth hit her like an overwhelming wave of testosterone. She swallowed hard, nearly swayed.

  “Natalie, are you okay?”

  She turned to him and looked up into his eyes. Those fierce gray eyes studied her carefully. He looked angry.

  “Am I okay? Of course,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat. “I’m as good as it gets.” Somehow this time, she managed to make her voice come out normal.

  “Yeah,” Vincent said. And he moved on, but he hadn’t looked any happier. She wondered if he still regretted kissing her.

  What a humiliating thought. A man kissed her and then spent days kicking himself about it. Unexpected pain trickled through her. Which was just too bad, because Vincent was right. It would be so wrong for the two of them to even think of getting involved on any level. She needed to concentrate on the things that mattered.

  Vincent couldn’t matter to her.

  The ringing doorbell pulled her out of her thoughts. She glanced up and saw Vincent headed for the door. It had come to this. She couldn’t even open her own door. But she knew better than to argue. Vincent was just doing what he had to do.

  “Is she in?” Natalie heard a small, soft voice that she recognized. Marjorie Redmond was her downstairs neighbor, a retired teacher and the first person Natalie had met when she had moved in here. Marjorie hadn’t lost her money the way many of their neighbors had, but she worried about them like a mother tending her chicks, just as Natalie did.

  “Hi, Nat,” she said. “The neighbors have planned a little pre-holiday get together, and they’ve asked me to come escort the guest of honor, so…here I am.” Marjorie smiled.

  “Guest of honor?” Natalie asked.

  “You, you goose,” her friend said. “Look at her,” Marjorie said to Vincent. “She doesn’t even get it.”

  “Get what?” Natalie looked at Vincent. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  Vincent grinned. “I might.”

  “How do you know, and I don’t?”

  Vincent gave Natalie a sexy smile. “When I took the garbage out the other day, Mr. Felsmith might have mentioned something to me about a small gathering.”

  “And you just said yes.”

  Marjorie laughed out loud. “Oh sure, he said yes, after he made Mr. Felsmith show him where the party would be located and gave everyone a set of instructions about safety.”

  “Vincent,” Natalie said.

  “Natalie,” Marjorie admonished. “Nobody minded, hon. We all know that you saw that dreadful man kill that woman, and we want to keep you safe, too. Vincent is doing you and us a favor. Heck, this building has probably never been so safe with a bodyguard roaming the premises. Besides, sweetie,” she whispered, pulling Natalie aside, “the man is to die for. If I had that parading through my shower every day, I’d be one happy woman. You’ve got some serious male muscle there, and he’s charming as well. No one is offended that he’s doing his darnedest to guard you.”

  Natalie’s breathing had kicked up when Marjorie had mentioned the part about Vincent in the shower. She turned concerned eyes on her friend. “Mrs. Morgensen thinks he’s my boyfriend.”

  Marjorie raised one brow. “No harm in letting her think that. It takes her mind off other things. You don’t mind, do you?” Marjorie said, turning and raising her voice so that Vincent would hear.

  Vincent raised one brow. “Mind what?”

  Natalie pulled on Marjorie’s arm trying to stop her, but to no avail. “Letting the neighbors think that you and Natalie are an item. It makes the whole situation less sinister, and it gives them something to think about other than their troubles.”

  Natalie crossed her arms. “You don’t have to go along
with this, Vincent. You’ve already done enough.”

  “I’m fine with that, Natalie,” he said in that low, sexy voice. “You and I know the truth. There’s no harm in giving everyone else some peace of mind.”

  Marjorie beamed. “Good. Then you’ll come, too?” she asked Vincent.

  “I would have come, anyway.”

  “Oh yes, of course,” Marjorie said. “Are you always by her side?”

  “Every second of every day,” he answered in that low, commanding, shivery voice of his. Natalie thought that Marjorie was going to swoon.

  “Nat, you lucky girl,” she said before swinging about to head back down the stairs. “Five minutes,” she called out to them, her voice floating out behind her.

  “Every second of every day?” Natalie said to Vincent once the door was closed again.

  He grinned. “They want to know you’re protected around the clock, Natalie. I’m just giving them what they want.”

  She barely suppressed a smile. “You’re going to give them heart palpitations imagining what we might be doing together every second of every day.” Not that the thought of Vincent skin to skin with her every second of every day didn’t give her palpitations, as well.

  “They love you, Natalie. This will relieve their minds.”

  “I don’t think relieving my neighbors’ minds is part of your duties, though,” she said softly. “So thank you for thinking of them and going along with the playacting.”

  He shook his head. “Pretending to be attracted to you isn’t a hardship, Natalie. It’s coming back here and keeping my hands off you that’s the difficult part.”

  And with that vision in her mind, Vincent took her hand and led her down to the party.

  “Honey, this is for you. Just a little something. Not much,” an elderly woman said, shoving a small tissue-paper-wrapped package into Natalie’s arms. “We’re just so grateful to have you.”

  “Thank you.” Natalie blinked back tears, and Vincent turned her and wiped her eyes with his handkerchief.