Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series

by Beauman, Cate

  He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll try to eat better.”

  She nodded.

  “I feel good today. I’m fine except for a little bit of a headache.”

  “I’ll get you some pain reliever. I’m going to cook you up some meals and put them in the freezer. I’ll take you to your appointment.”

  “Then you need to go home.”

  “Okay.” She took his barely -touched plate and went to the kitchen, doling out over-the-counter pain relievers for Dad and two for herself. Her head was pounding.

  ~~~~

  Reed drove home in the truck, wishing he’d gone with his first instinct and taken the motorcycle when he pulled out of his driveway this morning. The sun shined bright and the wind felt good blowing in through the windows—an experience always better on his bike. But he couldn’t complain. Not even an hour ago, thunder and lightning had filled the sky, canceling Sadie’s afternoon softball practice. When she told him she wanted to go directly home after the last bell rang in the hallowed halls of Beverly Hills High, he hadn’t wasted any time arguing. He’d considered it a hell of a bonus when they pulled through the gates at the James’ property and he spotted Tyson’s sweet little ride parked in its place for the night shift. After quickly briefing his buddy on the status of their principal’s day and the lack of threats against her, he’d cut out early—a rare but beautiful thing.

  He was tired after his long night of pacing the bedroom floor, but not even his shitty three hours of sleep was going to keep him away from the gym today. All he needed to do was stop by the house and grab his bag, and he was off to Santa Monica for a solid workout in the ring with Rusty or one of the other guys. How long had it been since he’d sparred? Three weeks? A month? Pretty much since he’d met Bella. He’d have been lying if he said he regretted his dinners and walks on the beach with his gorgeous neighbor, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to throwing a few punches at someone who would actually hit him back.

  Smiling at the idea of taking full advantage of his free afternoon, he turned into the quiet neighborhood, then into his driveway, surprised to see Bella’s car parked in hers and Jenny getting ready to leave. Bella worked until five Monday through Friday—often later with her upcoming trip right around the corner. He killed the engine and got out as Jenny settled Faith in her car seat. “Hey.”

  She smiled. “Hi.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Good. Bella looks awful, though—real pale.” Worry filled Jenny’s pretty eyes as she glanced up from securing the buckle across her daughter’s chest. “She says she’s fine—a little tired—but maybe you could check on her later.”

  “Sure. I just need to grab something from the house.” He gestured to his condo. “I’ll stop in before I head out again.”

  “Thanks.” She closed the baby in the back and walked around to the driver’s side. “Faithy has her play date, so I’m gonna get goin’.”

  “Have fun.”

  “Thanks.”

  He tossed Jenny a wave as he hurried to unlock his door, not bothering to shut it behind him when he ran upstairs and changed into navy-blue mesh shorts and a ratty white sleeveless top. Grabbing his bag, he threw in his boxing shoes and a towel he snagged from the bathroom before he sank his feet into his Nikes and headed back outside toward the side yard connecting his and Bella’s properties.

  He glanced at his watch, trying to figure his schedule. He would pop his head in and make sure Bella was all set. She could catch a nap if she wanted, and he would grab them some dinner on his way back from the gym. Maybe they could take a walk on the beach and she could tell him about the emergency that kept her away all night. He stopped at her door and rapped his knuckles against the solid wood.

  Lucy barked.

  He frowned. Never had he heard Bella’s sweet puppy bark—unless she was chasing her seagulls. “Bella,” he called, knocking a second time, his shoulders tensing when Lucy sent up another din and Bella didn’t answer.

  Something was off. He twisted the doorknob, muttering a curse when it opened. Locks were the first line of defense against the criminal element, but people rarely took advantage of them.

  Lucy hurried over to him, whining and panting instead of greeting him with kisses and her tail wagging.

  He crouched down in front of the agitated pup, his eyes darting around the house, his ears straining as he listened for any movements in the eerie silence. “What’s going on, huh, girl?”

  Lucy whined again and ran toward the downstairs bathroom.

  He gained his feet, following on high alert, stopping outside the partially closed door as Lucy whined inside. “Bella?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He eased open the door and his heart rushed into his throat as Bella lay curled in a ball on the floor. “Shit. Bella.” He hurried over to her, crouching and checking for a pulse.

  “I’m fine,” she croaked out, keeping her eyes closed. “I have a migraine.”

  She was sheet-white. “You’re not fine.”

  “I’ll be okay in a little while.”

  It frightened him to see her down for the count when she was usually so full of energy. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

  “No. I get these sometimes. Not very often. I have medicine upstairs in the bathroom.”

  “Can you stand up?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to.”

  “Come on up.” He reached underneath her and settled her in his arms, breathing in the overpowering stench of cigarette smoke as he lifted her carefully.

  She groaned, resting her head on his shoulder. “I can’t promise I’m not going to throw up.”

  “We’ll deal with it. Come on. Let’s get you in bed.” He brought her upstairs, grimacing with each inhale. “Christ, you stink.”

  “I know. It’s making me even more nauseated than I already am.”

  He brought her through the master bedroom decorated with dark furnishings and different shades of white to the bathroom while Lucy followed close behind. “How about a shower?”

  “I can’t.”

  “One of my friends used to get these pretty bad like you. She would take a hot shower and it would help.”

  “I can’t, Reed.”

  He set her on the toilet seat and glanced around at candles and plants in her luxurious setup, but he wasn’t seeing what he needed to help Bella out. “Stay right here.”

  She held her face in her hands. “Okay.”

  He hustled over to his place, grabbing the crappy, cheap barstool from his kitchen, then hurried back to her house and upstairs. “I’m back,” he said as he walked in, finding Bella sitting exactly where he’d left her, except now she hugged Lucy and rested her forehead on the puppy’s soft coat.

  Bella lifted her head, blinking in the light shining in through the privacy glass above the bathtub. “What are you doing with that?”

  “Putting it in the shower. Since neither of us are up for hopping in together, I thought this was the best alternative.” He set the stool in the tub and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature to almost hot before he turned to her. “Take off your dress.”

  She closed her eyes again, settling her head back on Lucy. “I just want to lie down.”

  He moved over to her, cringing as he breathed her in. “You smell, Bella. Awful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Lift up your arms.”

  Groaning, she did as he asked.

  He pulled the wrinkled blue sundress over her head, leaving a sheer white strapless bra and panty set behind. Sweet Jesus, she was spectacular. “Come on.” He lifted her again, checking the water, and settled her on the stool so that her back was to the spray while he stood on the plush bathmat, avoiding the worst of the spray.

  She gasped, her eyes flying open as the water rained down her body. “It’s hot.”

  “Too hot?”

  “Almost.”

  “Then it’s perfect.” He grabbed the shampoo and dumped some in
her hair, the familiar scent filling his nose as he rubbed gently at her scalp and tried to ignore the fact that her wet, perky breasts were every man’s fantasy. “I bet after we get the stink off you, you’ll start feeling better.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Let’s rinse.” He tipped her head back into the stream.

  “Dizzy,” she moaned as she gripped his forearm and leaned forward, vomiting—dry heaving, mostly.

  He winced, realizing his sudden movements had been too abrupt. “Sorry. Jesus, I’m so sorry, Bella.”

  She opened her mouth, filling it with water, and spit it out. “It’s okay.”

  Damn, she was in rough shape. “Can you sit up a little so I can get the rest of the soap out?”

  “Yeah.” She let the water soak her head.

  “Better.” He slid his fingers through her soft, thick hair, chasing away the last of the suds.

  “I want to get out.”

  “Just one more minute.” He grabbed the body wash next, lathering the liquid in his hands and rubbing them around on her arms, shoulders, what he could get of her back and stomach, then her legs, making certain to be gentle, pretending he didn’t notice how slippery smooth her skin felt against his palms. “You have to smell better now. I don’t see how you couldn’t.”

  He made sure the bubbles were washed away, then shut off the water. Grabbing two towels, he wrapped one around her body as best he could and settled the other on her head before picking her back up and bringing her into her bed with Lucy following closely. “Let’s get you in here.”

  “Okay.”

  He set her down at the foot of the mattress and pulled back the white comforter and sheet set. “Where are your pajamas?”

  “In the top drawer.”

  He opened the drawer to more panties, bras, and sinful spaghetti-strapped nighties. He lifted out a dark purple camisole. “These are your pajamas?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t have any sweat shorts or long T-shirts?”

  “No.”

  Why didn’t that surprise him? He snagged a pair of flossy black panties. “Can you handle this on your own?”

  “Yes.”

  And thank God for it. Her underwear left little to the imagination, especially now that it was soaked through and she was cold. He was all for being good and honorable, but stripping Bella down to bare skin and not being able to touch and taste was bound to be torture. “I’ll get your medicine. Where is it?”

  “In the cabinet.”

  He walked off, leaving her to change, and went to the medicine cabinet. Opening it, he noted Band-Aids and pain reliever, cotton swabs and birth control pills, several missing from the pack in accordance with the days of the month. Then he found the medicine. He read the directions and the warnings not to drive or drink alcohol, then shook one into his hand. “Are you dressed?”

  “Yes.”

  He grabbed a paper cup, filled it with water, and went back in.

  Bella lay on her side beneath the covers, looking a little better than she had when he found her on the floor. “Here you go.”

  She took the pill and drank the water. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He sat down next to her, tucking her wet hair behind her ear. “You smell good—like you.”

  A small smile touched her lips as she took his hand, holding it in hers against the pillow. “Thank goodness.”

  He laced their fingers, stroking her wrist with his thumb. “You have some color in your cheeks.”

  “The throbbing isn’t quite as bad—or the nausea.”

  “Good. Do you want to try eating something?”

  “No. The medicine knocks me out.”

  “What about Lucy? Is she all set?”

  “She might need some dinner. And if you can take her out real quick.”

  “How about I take her for a walk?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “But I can. It’ll be good for her. She’s worried about you.” He was too. As he stared into Bella’s glassy eyes and felt the warmth of her hand in his, he realized his trip to Santa Monica wasn’t going to happen after all. He kept waiting for the flickers of irritation or the sense of burden he’d so often felt in New York when something got in the way of his rare moments of free time. Instead he smiled at her, wanting nothing more than for her to feel better. “It’ll be good for her to get out of the house.”

  “But she’s my girl.”

  “I’ll take care of Lucy. You take care of you.”

  “Thank you,” she said again and closed her eyes.

  He wanted to ask her what was going on in her life: where had she gone, why had she smelled like she spent the night in some grody bar, but she was drifting off. “I’ll check on you later.”

  “’Kay.”

  He stood. “Come on, Lucy.”

  Lucy stayed where she was by the bed.

  “It’s okay. She’s going to be all right. Let’s go to the beach, Lucy.”

  Lucy’s ears perked up.

  “Do you want to walk on the beach?”

  Lucy stood.

  “That’s a girl. Come on.”

  He walked with her downstairs and grabbed Bella’s keys off the entryway table, pausing when he spotted her cell phone sticking out of her purse. There it was; the chance he’d been waiting for was finally presenting itself. He picked it up, slid his finger on the screen, swearing when he was prompted to put in a pin. He gave Bella’s birthdate a shot, felt the phone vibrate with a warning that he had nine more shots to get it right, and glanced Lucy’s way as she stared up at him.

  Her tail wagged and she pressed her weight against his leg.

  He shoved the phone in his pocket, looking away from the trust and adoration he saw in the puppy’s eyes. “This is my job, and you’re a freaking dog, so we’re both going to pretend that you’re not making me feel guilty.”

  This didn’t have to be a big deal. He would bring the phone with him, see what he could do about the password, take a gander through her contacts, and have it back before Bella was the wiser. Walking to the closet, he snagged the leash and stopped with his hand on the doorknob. What if Bella needed him? What if she woke up while he was gone, feeling worse than she already did, and couldn’t get ahold of him?

  “Son of a bitch. Give me a second.” He ran upstairs to the bedroom and pulled the phone back out of his pocket, settling it next to Bella’s side as she slept deeply. He’d never been one to care much about procedure and protocol. His goal had always been to secure the information he needed, but this was about Bella’s safety.

  Sighing, he brushed his fingers through her hair, then left with Lucy, locking up behind him and making sure the volume on his phone was loud enough to hear in case she called. “Come on, Luce. Let’s go chase your seagulls.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Reed exhaled short, quick breaths in time with his jab-backstep-jab combination to the heavy bag. He dodged to the right and again to the left, as if an opponent threw a series of punches at him, then paused when he thought he heard someone knocking on his front door. He walked over to the window and looked down, catching sight of Lucy’s back half and her wagging tail past the roof’s overhang. Chuckling, he pulled off his gloves and hurried downstairs, opening the door and smiling at Bella. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Her gaze trailed up his sweat-soaked muscle shirt. “It looks like I’m interrupting your workout.”

  “Nah, I was just finishing up.” He swiped his arm across his dripping forehead as he breathed in her familiar scent. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. Thank you for everything you did yesterday.”

  “No problem. You look good.” And she did—damn good in her snug, knee-length navy-blue skirt, matching heels, and white blousy sleeveless top. She’d added loose curls to her silky black hair. “A little tired, though.”

  “It’s been a long couple of days.”

  His gaze sharpened on hers, not missing the flash of unhappin
ess in her pretty baby browns or the weariness in her voice. “Wanna talk about it?”

  She let out a small, humorless laugh. “No.”

  “Wanna come in?” He stepped back, opening the door wider with his invitation.

  She smiled. “Sure.” She took two steps inside and stopped, lifting her eyebrow as she looked from the empty space to him. “Reed—”

  “I know. You love what I’ve done with the place.”

  Chuckling, she shook her head. “Do you hear that?”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “The echo. Our voices echo, Reed.”

  He grinned. “But not for long. I remembered to grab Wren’s plans when I was downtown the other day.” He pointed to the binder on the counter as he walked to the paper towel roll and ripped one off, wiping his face. “Do you wanna take a look at what she came up with while I clean up real quick? You can let me know what you think.”

  “Sure. How do you feel about grabbing something to eat and going to the beach after?”

  “Yeah, definitely. Just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time,” she said as she opened the fancy little book with Campbell Interiors scrolled across the front.

  Reed made quick work of the shower, changing into jeans and a plain white T-shirt to go along with his flip-flops. He slid his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down as he walked downstairs. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think options one and three are close contenders.”

  He stepped up behind her, his body brushing hers as he leaned his hip against the counter. “One and three?”

  “They seem the most you.”

  “The most me. And what does that mean? The most me?”

  She shrugged as she tilted her head, looking up at him. “I don’t know. They’re kind of simple—understated—but they still have a warmth about them.”

  “Huh.” He studied the first option, then turned to the third. “I like this big-screen TV and these sink-in couches.”

  “They look comfy.”

  “What do you say I go with three?”

  “I think you should think on it—make sure. Decide in the morning after you’ve taken one last look.”