Executive Protection

by Jennifer Morey

“The ending gave you away. Leave It to Beaver?”

  “Most people believe me.”

  “Why do you tell stories like that?”

  She enjoyed entertaining. She’d joined the theater in school and had almost pursued an acting career. The uncertainty of at least moderate success had stopped her. That and talks with her parents, who’d educated her on the downfalls of trying to become an actress. They hadn’t discouraged her. They’d supported whatever she decided. They just armed her with all the knowledge she needed to make up her mind.

  “Even boys who claim they don’t like girls end up liking them,” she finally said. “The truth always comes out. There’s always some kind of truth to my stories.”

  Some of the slyness melted away as he looked into her eyes, knowing exactly what she meant. He took a step forward. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

  His low, raspy voice tingled nerve endings that craved him. She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping to his bare chest, lightly haired, hard with muscle. Try as she might to shut off her attraction, she couldn’t.

  “Why do you ask?” she hedged. Answering that question would brew more trouble.

  “Because I’m afraid it’s the same reason I couldn’t.” The next step he took toward her put him within inches of her. She felt the heat of his smooth, hard chest and yearned to touch him, to feel the contours of his biceps, his abdomen. Rippling sinew dipped below his shorts. Lifting her eyes, she saw that his had grown darker with desire and was sure it was a response to her own.

  “Sophie?” she asked hopefully.

  He shook his head. Taking the mug from her, he set it down on the counter. Then he slid his hand along her neck and cupped her head. “I wish that was the reason.”

  Oh, no.

  He pressed his mouth to hers. She brushed her hand over his chest, satisfying a burning urge to do so, sucking in air through her nose. Nothing else mattered but this. She put her other hand on him and felt all of his muscled torso.

  He slid his arm around her, his hand holding her rear and pulling her against him. He changed the angle of his mouth and kissed her much deeper. Hot, sizzling passion coursed through her.

  Moving her along the kitchen counter, he positioned her so that his hips pinned her there. Now his hand was free to roam up her body to capture a silk-draped breast. The lapels parted with his seeking hands. The robe slipped down her shoulders. He stopped kissing her to look down.

  Lucy was mesmerized watching him.

  He picked the delicate strings lacing the bodice until they loosened and he had room to slip inside. He cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing the nipple.

  Lucy dipped her head back with the erotic sensation of his hand on her. He took the invitation and kissed her neck. She felt him push the thin strap off her shoulder. Cool air touched her breast. The silky, knee-length nightgown was loose enough to push the other side down, too. Now her chest was nearly as bare as his.

  Kissing her mouth briefly, he bent his head to her breasts. Lucy lowered her head to watch, her hands gliding down his biceps to his forearms. She could feel his muscles move as he caressed one breast while he took the other with his mouth. His tongue flicked her nipple.

  She moaned. A modicum of coherency remained in her.

  Thad stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. Standing straighter, he was so close and his burning hazel eyes kept the fire in her stoked.

  Thank God, he was stopping. She wouldn’t have been able to herself.

  “Are you going to tell another one of your stories?” he asked.

  “Do I need to?” Her breasts touched his chest and her hands were still on his forearms, his hands now on her waist.

  As he looked down between them and then back up at her face, he seemed to realized the significance of what had just occurred.

  “No.” He stepped back as she laughed and adjusted her silk nightgown and pulled up the sides of her robe.

  Humor worked to diffuse the situation, but Lucy began to feel dread for the coming days. He would not be her choice in a man. She enjoyed teasing him at his expense on his misguided views on family. They may heat up the sheets, but she was serious about finding someone who could share her plans for the future. She refused to roll the dice on Thad. What if he never changed? Wasn’t it impossible to change a man? She wouldn’t even try.

  “I’ll take this up to bed.” She lifted the mug and turned.

  “Lucy.”

  He sounded serious. She looked back.

  Thad stared at her, whatever he had intended to say remaining inside him. “Good night.”

  She left without replying. Tonight was a mistake. He knew it. She knew it. What they’d each do about it was another matter. And that’s what frightened her the most.

  On her way up to her room, Lucy caught sight of someone in the shadows of the formal living room. A man. A big, tall man, who was just standing there.

  Chapter 7

  Thad trailed Lucy, leaving his root beer float behind. As he passed the formal dining area, he spotted her standing rod-stiff in the threshold of the formal living room. Beyond her, he saw a man. Moving forward with quick instinct, he pulled Lucy back and stepped in front of her, catching sight of her wide eyes. Seeing the man had scared her.

  The man bent and turned on a light.

  It was Secret Service agent Jaden Mayfield, six-three, short cropped brown hair and slightly over two-hundred pounds. He wore jeans and a polo shirt, similar attire to what the other agents wore while on duty protecting his mother, more casual than usual since they were out of the public eye.

  “Mr. Winston,” Mayfield greeted. “Sorry if I startled you and Miss Sinclair. I just finished my rounds and was about to check the house.”

  Had he come through the front entrance? Wherever he’d come from, he’d have had to walk a good distance in the dark before reaching the formal living room.

  “Do you always check the house in the dark?”

  The agent kept an impassive face. “Not always. I like to listen first. I thought I heard something.”

  Maybe he’d heard Thad and Lucy in the kitchen. Maybe something else had him standing in the living room in the dark as though Lucy had caught him by surprise.

  Lucy moved to stand beside Thad, her body not as stiff and eyes less alarmed, still holding the root beer float. She probably thought Cam had broken in. Instead, it had been Agent Mayfield, the man who’d replaced Daniel Henderson after he’d been shot.

  “Excuse me. I’ll finish up.” The agent passed them to leave the living room and presumably check the rest of the house.

  Lucy turned from watching the agent’s retreat to Thad.

  “What was he doing when you first approached?” Thad asked.

  “Just standing there in the dark. Is that odd?”

  “Just standing there? Yeah, a little.”

  “Maybe he heard me coming and stopped,” she said.

  “Maybe.” Thad couldn’t shake the feeling that he hadn’t, that the agent hadn’t heard Lucy. Her feet were bare.

  “I’m just glad it wasn’t Cam,” Lucy said.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”

  She eyed him warily but turned and walked up the grand staircase to the upper level. He stayed a good distance from her, walking behind her and careful not to let any part of him touch her, lest the flames flare up again.

  At her room, he stopped her before allowing her to enter and searched the room. Assured no one was there, he went back to the doorway, where she stood just inside with a humorous smirk toying with her mouth and eyes, holding the mug with both hands, sparkling green eyes that he’d sunk into as he succumbed to powerful desire. Kissing Lucy had been the most incredible experience he could remember in a long time. Which was disturbing.

  But not as
disturbing as the behavior of the Secret Service agent.

  “Are you always this cautious?” Lucy asked.

  “My mother’s never been shot before.”

  She lowered her eyes contritely. “I suppose I’d be the same way.”

  He was on high alert at all times. Vigilant and protective. And he’d remain that way until the gunman was caught.

  “Good night,” he said to her again, the same thing he’d said earlier when he’d stopped himself from saying something stupid like “see you at breakfast.” As though he planned on taking her as his woman. Taking her, period. Taking her over and over again.

  “Good night,” she answered, and it warmed him despite his will for it not to. He wasn’t a family man and she’d joined an online dating site to find one.

  As he turned to head down the hall, the thought of that chafed him. There would be a lot of men who’d be interested in dating her. Cam had been a dud, but the next one may not be. He may not be a family man and she may not be interested in being with him because of that, but did that mean they couldn’t explore something casual? No. Lucy was not that kind of woman. And he was not the kind of man to involve himself with someone like her. He wasn’t against living together, but she would want more. He had relationships and wasn’t against living with someone. The only glitch was that until he was an old man, he expected his relationships to end. That didn’t have to be a bad thing. It would probably be mutual. Finding the perfect mate wasn’t easy. People either got lucky or they pretended to be. The ones not pretending were few and far between. That was the problem he had with marriage. And children tied a couple together whether the love was genuine or not. Thad didn’t believe he’d ever be one of those lucky people, and he absolutely refused to pretend. His father had pretended and look where that had led. To his mother’s broken heart and never-ending bad press.

  Thad reached the living room again and looked around for Agent Mayfield. Confirming he was alone, he began to search the room, going over every square inch. None of the furniture was out of place. Nothing had dropped on the floor. He didn’t find any hidden surveillance.

  Going over to the windows, he peered outside. All the lights that were supposed to be on were. The gatehouse guard was in his place.

  As he started to turn away, he saw the lock on the window was up. The window was unlocked. He pushed the lever back down and tested its sturdiness. All of the other windows were locked. All of the windows but this one.

  Thad looked back to where the agent had turned on the light. It was steps from here. Had he heard Lucy approach and had just enough time to get away from the window?

  He looked back at the window. Why would he unlock a window?

  To allow the gunman access so he could have a second try at Kate Winston?

  It was wild speculation, but Thad wasn’t taking any chances. He checked the security system and went through the large house to check every window on the lower level. The security system was still operating, and all of the windows were locked except the one in the formal living room. Had the agent been interrupted before he could disarm the security system?

  * * *

  Thad found Agent Jaden Mayfield with his feet up in the library, reading a sports magazine, finishing up his shift. He didn’t like the man. He didn’t trust him.

  The agent’s brown eyes looked up when he heard him enter.

  “Can I have a word with you?” Thad asked.

  The agent swung his feet off the ottoman in front of one of the black wingback chairs and set the magazine down. “Sure.”

  Was it Thad’s imagination or did the man seem nervous?

  “I found a window unlocked in the living room,” Thad said.

  The agent’s eyes grew marginally bigger before relaxing again. “I checked them earlier.”

  “But not tonight?”

  “No. I did a walk-through.”

  He made it seem so casual. It wasn’t casual to Thad. His mother’s life depended on the thoroughness of the agents protecting her.

  “Did you unlock the window?” Thad asked in his most direct tone.

  The agent grunted. “Why would I do that?”

  “Did you?”

  Agent Mayfield met Thad’s hard stare. “No.”

  Thad wasn’t sure he believed him.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Winston, I know you’re Kate’s son, but I don’t need anyone questioning me on how I do my job.”

  “I didn’t question you about your job. I asked you if you unlocked the window.”

  “And I told you I didn’t.”

  Thad would check the video recordings and see if anything showed up.

  “There are a lot of experienced people working to find your mother’s gunman, Mr. Winston. I’ll be sure and check the windows on a regular basis and make sure all of the other agents do the same.”

  Thad decided it was time to ease up. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  With one more look back, Thad left the room, vowing to keep a close eye on the man.

  * * *

  The next morning, Thad went down to the kitchen, where he heard voices. Sam stood in front of the coffee machine, his muscular friend Mike Harris leaning against the counter next to him. The two had met in the military. On the counter were two plates with the remnants of eggs and potatoes. Whatever meat that had been prepared with it was gone.

  Sam stopped talking when Thad approached them. He was two years older than him and opposite in many ways. Blue eyes where Thad’s were hazel, buzz cut where Thad’s hairstyle was longer and less orderly. They were close in height, though.

  Thad leaned a little and extended his hand to Mike. “Been a while.”

  Mike shook his hand. “Yeah.”

  “How are you doing?” Thad asked.

  Mike exchanged a look with Sam. “Better every day.”

  Thad saw how his brother withdrew with that reply. He kept all that had happened to him bottled up and Thad worried that would have an adverse effect on him and his quality of life. His mom said Sam just needed time. He’d come around eventually. Thad hoped she was right. Victims of violent crimes did need time to come out on their own. It wasn’t uncommon for victims to withdraw into a world of silence, at least when it came to their trauma.

  “We have a full house.” Sam veered the topic away from the seriousness of his and Mike’s capture. “Mom said you’re sweet on her home care nurse.”

  First Darcy and now his brother. When would people stop bringing up the sexy nurse? “Mom’s condition is making her hallucinate.” Or gave her time to be more observant about her sons. And right now, her focus was square on Thad.

  “She is pretty hot. I saw her with Mom yesterday.” Sam wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t let that one pass you by.”

  Thad didn’t engage. Kissing Lucy last night rushed back to haunt him. He couldn’t believe how strong his desire had been, how completely she’d drawn him in.

  “Have you noticed anything odd about one of the agents—Jaden Mayfield?” Thad deliberately changed the subject.

  Sam sobered. “No, why?”

  Thad explained what he and Lucy had stumbled upon and that the window had been open.

  “You think he unlocked it?” Sam asked, incredulous.

  “I don’t know. Why would he? I checked the security videos and nothing was out of place. The gate was secure, nobody was missing in their patrols and the electronic system was online.” It would have been impossible to get past security to reach the window last night.

  “They let you see the videos?” Mike asked.

  Thad did his best to appear contrite. “No.”

  “You sneaked in and had a look yourself?” Sam laughed wryly. “I should have been a cop instead of enlisting in the army. You’re having all the fun.”

&n
bsp; “Sam...”

  “Anybody could have left the window unlocked,” Sam said, back to being serious. “Maybe one of the servants opened it for fresh air and forgot to lock it.”

  That was possible. “Yeah. It’s probably nothing.”

  “I think you should spend more time going after Mom’s hot nurse.”

  The glimpse of Sam’s sense of humor was an encouraging sign that he was recovering, but Thad was in no mood to talk about Lucy. Not after last night.

  “Having a male bonding session?” a familiar female voice interrupted.

  Thad turned and saw Lucy enter the kitchen, aware of how Mike took notice of her, and almost hearing him agree with Sam. Lucy was hot.

  “Lucy, this is Mike Harris and my brother Sam.” Thad made the quick introduction, reluctant to hang around for the coming exchange.

  She stuck out her hand, and Mike took it. Sam received the same greeting.

  “You’re in the military?” she asked. “I overheard...”

  “Yeah, but may not be staying in,” Mike answered.

  “Why not?”

  It was an innocent question, but one that wasn’t received well by either man.

  “Sam and Mike were both held captive in a foreign prison for three months,” Thad explained. “They’ve been home for almost six months now.”

  “Oh.” She looked remorsefully from one man to the other, resting on Mike. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay,” Mike said.

  “Are you getting the help you need now that you’re back?” she asked.

  A caregiver at heart, Lucy didn’t have any qualms about confronting touchy subjects, and this was a touchy one for both men. At least, it was for Sam.

  Mike glanced at Sam, who gave no reaction. “We’ve considered it,” Mike answered, seeming to warm to Lucy. She did have a way about her. She genuinely cared and it showed in her eyes and the way she spoke, not overdone. Just matter-of-fact and full of kindness.

  “Aside from the treatment we endured while in captivity, we’re suffering from some memory loss. I’m not sure how much of that I want to remember, though.” Mike again looked over at Sam, who still wouldn’t contribute to the conversation.