“Your faith means a lot to you.”
“Yes. What about you? Do you think about God much?”
“I have been lately. My mum would be pleased. She’s been praying for my lost soul for years.” He frowned down into his drink. “I do know I’ve made wrong decisions. Someday, I need to make things right with God.”
She felt compassion for him. “Don’t wait. Ask Him for forgiveness soon.”
“Yeah. I need to.” He fell silent.
“I’ll be praying for you, too.”
He touched her arm. “Thanks, Alexa.”
“Dinner is served.” Jamison’s deep voice called Alexa’s attention away from the dancing waves. Pink sparkles shone on them as the sun neared the rosy horizon.
Alexa and Colin watched the sun set as they ate on the back deck. The night settled into dusk. The cool breeze was getting chilly by the time she finished her main course, so Alexa pulled on her jacket.
“How are your drinks?” Jamison appeared again. “More wine, Colin?”
“Sure.”
“Alexa, how is yours?”
Alexa eyed her lemon-lime drink. “A fine vintage,” she told him.
His lips curved slightly. “I aim to please,” he said in a low voice, and melted into the night.
Alexa took a quick sip to settle the flutter in her stomach. How could she possibly be more aware of her exasperating bodyguard than Colin, one of the most famous, charming men in the world? She must be losing her marbles.
“Alexa.” She looked up quickly into Colin’s sharp gaze.
“Yes?”
“Are you and Jamison getting on better?”
Alexa remembered Beth’s theory that Colin had assigned Jamison as her bodyguard because he’d be no threat to Colin romantically. Uneasiness shifted in her, and she hedged, “Um, a little.”
The intent look in his eyes quieted, and Alexa relaxed. She wondered what Colin would think if he knew Jamison had kissed her last night. Not that it meant anything. But still, she was glad he didn’t know. She wanted to keep that memory private.
Alexa changed the subject. “Was the concert sold out last night? I didn’t see any empty seats.”
Colin smiled. “The crowds last night and today were unbelievable. We’re sold out now in both Barcelona and Rome.”
“That’s wonderful! But what happened? Has something changed?”
“Didn’t you see the paper today?”
“No. Why?”
“The attack on you made the first page.”
“Oh no!”
Ruefully, Colin said, “Both attacks have made the world news, too. I think the ghoulish want to see what happens next.”
Shocked, Alexa said, “Are you saying the attacks have been good for the tour?”
“Unfortunately, yes. In fact, if you hadn’t been hurt, I would wonder if Paddy had rigged them as publicity stunts.”
“Publicity stunts!” This thought had never entered her head. At first she had thought Eve had sent the threatening notes, and then it appeared a crazed older couple was behind the stalker attacks. Now Colin’s manager flashed through her mind. She remembered his brash, bulldog personality and hard eyes. The man was all about profit. And hadn’t Colin said Paddy’s percentage of the profits would go up if the tour sold out? What was more, it did seem odd that while Colin had been threatened, he had never actually been attacked. Maybe the note writer had never intended to hurt Colin. Maybe Colin’s threatening notes were a smokescreen for the stalker’s real plan; to attack her—a pawn—to increase publicity for Colin’s tour.
The assaults were accomplishing this goal. What if Paddy had hired the older couple to accost her? Maybe he hadn’t meant for her to get hurt, but what if the crazed couple had gone further than he had intended? On the other hand, how could he have found a couple like that? Did crazed, stalker fans cross his path often?
It all seemed very confusing. Certainly, no evidence linked Paddy to the crimes, and Colin didn’t believe he was involved. All the same, Colin’s manager jumped onto her suspect list.
“To change the subject,” Colin said, “I’m thinking about a new album. What sorts of songs do you like best?”
She smiled. “Love ballads. If you made an album just of those, I would buy it.”
“Do you think others feel the same way?”
“Absolutely.”
“I love those songs best, too,” he admitted quietly, fingering his glass.
She looked at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”
He gulped the last of his wine, and his silver watch flashed in the moonlight. “I’ve put out eleven albums, did you know it? Four went platinum. I’m starting to wonder how much is enough. Maybe it’s strange, but I feel like life is passing me by.”
Alexa waited for him to continue.
“I’ve been a bit wild and crazy, and I’ve got a million friends, but I’m lonely.” Shadows cut his features into sharp lines. His mouth was straight, unsmiling. “I want to find the one, now. Someone who loves me, and not my money.”
“Colin.” Impulsively, Alexa covered his hand, touched by his honesty. “You’ll find the right person. I know you will.”
He turned his hand, so it held hers now. “How will I know if I’ve found her?”
“Your heart will tell you. I think it’s important to become friends, first, though. You need to develop trust, and that comes from knowing someone well.”
He laughed a little. “I’ve never had a woman friend. Not a real friend, anyway. Just business associates.”
“I hope you’ll think of me as your friend. I do care about you, Colin, and I want you to be happy.”
“I know you do.”
Alexa gently extricated her hand. “I’ll bet you have more friends than you think.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “Maybe.” A pause elapsed. “Don’t you ever get lonely, Alexa?”
“Yes.”
“Why haven’t you found anyone? You’re a beautiful girl.”
She looked down. “I’m picky, I guess.”
Colin laughed. “I haven’t been. But I’ve never let anyone into my heart, either.”
“It’s scary—at least, I’d think it would be after years of pushing people away.”
“Opening up my heart might invite pain,” Colin admitted. “But I’m ready to feel. I want to truly live. All of this,” he gestured to the opulent boat, “doesn’t take away the loneliness.”
His words struck deep into her heart. “I know what you mean,” she said softly.
Jamison served their dessert course, and Alexa watched his neat, broad-shouldered figure pause on the way indoors to speak to Mart. Now there was a man who was very sure of himself. Nothing seemed to scare him, and yet he had walls, too, just like she did. Just like Colin did. What had caused Jamison’s? Because it took two people to clash, and they had been sparking from the first day they’d met.
“Alexa?” Colin’s cultured voice drew her attention back to her debonair escort. “Are you all right?”
She smiled. “Just thinking you and I aren’t so different, after all.”
His smile looked pleased.
After they finished dessert, the boat’s engines roared to life. She said, “Can we go to the bow again before we get back?”
“Absolutely. Come on.” He caught her hand and they left the sheltering enclave at the back of the boat and walked into the stiff, cold breeze. Alexa shivered, and wished she had brought a heavier jacket.
“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Colin laughed. He released her hand when they reached the bow, and Alexa grasped the wooden railing. The bow pointed toward the lighted quay, still a good distance away. The boat rose and dipped, surging forward on the waves. It felt wild and free out here, with the chill wind in her teeth. Alexa shivered again, and crossed her arms. She loved it, and didn’t want to return to the cocooned area in the back. This was how she wanted to live life; at the front, meeting every challenge head on. She didn’t want to be afraid an
ymore.
Spray misted her cheek as they cut through a wave. “This is the life, isn’t it?” she laughed to Colin.
“It’s certainly cold.”
“Go on back if you want. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” His face looked white. Probably hers did, too, but how could she leave? This was an adventure she would never live again—on a ship in Barcelona’s harbor.
“Yes. Go.”
“Don’t freeze,” he told her.
And then Alexa was alone at the bow of the ship. She didn’t mind. In fact, she liked it. Shivering, she fantasized about being on the only ship in the raging ocean, and they were about to make port after months at sea. Her teeth chattered sharply, and she crossed her arms against the cold. Her writer’s imagination painted more romantic pictures in her head. She had just been swept into port by an artic gale. Only a few had survived the savage journey. The captain, Colin, and the first mate, Jamison. And, of course, herself.
Alexa giggled at the silliness of her imagination.
“What are you laughing at, princess?” Jamison appeared.
“Oh,” she gasped. “Nothing. It was silly. I was imagining we’d been swept here by an arctic gale after months at sea.”
Now, why had she gone and told him that? Now he’d think she was bonkers, for sure.
His teeth flashed white in the gloom. “Spending too much time writing?”
“What’s wrong with a little fantasy?” she scoffed. “Keeps life exciting.”
“You need your life to be more exciting?”
“A girl always wants a little romance.”
“What’s romantic about standing in a freezing gale?”
Alexa rolled her eyes. “You have no romance in your soul, Jamison.” She gave a mighty shudder, and her teeth clicked uncontrollably.
“You’re going to catch pneumonia.” Before she realized what he was doing, Jamison shrugged out of his suit jacket and tucked it around her shoulders. It felt warm from his body heat, and smelled like him. Alexa gripped the lapels and tucked the jacket tightly to her, relishing the warmth and the scent.
At least for a few seconds, anyway.
“I can’t take your jacket. You’ll freeze to death,” she said, about to take it off.
“Stop.” His hands closed over hers. In the night, his eyes looked impossibly dark, and his hands felt warm over hers. “Take it. I’m going back inside, anyway.”
“Do you have…” she cut the words off, aghast at what she had almost said.
“Want me to stay?” He smiled. “I don’t think Colin would appreciate that.”
“Of course I don’t want you to stay,” she retorted. Jamison turned to leave. “But thank you for the jacket.”
“You’re welcome,” he said softly, and his black form disappeared down the deck. Alexa watched him go, and wondered why she had wanted so much for him to stay.
Alexa stayed on deck until they reached the dock, and then joined Colin in the back of the boat. Colin noted the jacket around her shoulders. “Jamison’s a chivalrous guy.” His gaze scanned hers.
“Yes,” Alexa agreed, and pulled it off.
Jamison strolled by and plucked it from her fingers. “Thank you,” he said, and kept moving.
Alexa sat silently beside Colin in the limo until they pulled up in front of their building. Then she turned to him. “Thank you, Colin, for a wonderful evening. I’ll never forget it.”
“Nor will I.” He helped her out of the limousine. “Can you meet with me for breakfast on Sunday? I feel I’ve cheated you out of quotes for the book tonight.”
“Please don’t apologize. I couldn’t have had a better evening. And yes, Sunday sounds great.”
“Terrific.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she smiled at him, then headed into the building after Jamison. They got off on their floor, and left Colin and Mart in the elevator on the way to the penthouse.
Jamison keyed open their door. “Have a nice evening?”
“Of course. And thank you again for the jacket.”
He locked the door behind them, and shrugged off that same jacket. For a moment, Alexa realized how domestic this felt. Like they were coming home after a night out together; Jamison loosening his tie with his fingers, and she about to get ready for bed.
It disturbed her deeply, because it felt so natural…so right.
No. It wasn’t natural, and it wasn’t right. She had been living with Jamison for too long, that was all.
“Goodnight,” she said, moving quickly toward her own room.
“’Night.” She felt his gaze follow her. Alexa shut the door and leaned against it. What was wrong with her? How could she feel so intensely aware of Jamison’s gaze and of his every move tonight? Why had his dark presence continually distracted her from Colin? Colin was a famous pop star, for heaven’s sake. And a wonderful, sweet, charming man.
And yet Jamison could be surprisingly sweet and charming, too.
Alexa swiftly closed her eyes, feeling even more disturbed. What was she thinking? Jamison was nothing like Colin. She needed water. Maybe she was coming down with something.
On Friday morning Alexa continued to work on the book, and tried to forget the disturbing closeness she had felt with Jamison the previous night. She had transcribed all of the recordings, and now flipped through the scrapbooks, looking for more material that she could discuss with Colin. The book was over halfway done, and she was pleased by the progress. She’d also read through everything she had written so far, smoothing items, and writing down questions she needed to ask Colin on Sunday. He had promised she would meet with his band on Sunday, too. That material should keep her going for most of their stay in Italy. They would travel there on Monday.
At lunchtime, Alexa made a tuna sandwich. When Jamison emerged from his room, she turned her full attention to adding a pile of chips to her plate. It was the first time she had seen him since yesterday, as Mart still took over for Jamison during breakfast. She still felt acutely aware of her bodyguard, uncomfortably so, much like last night.
“Hello,” she said, pouring a glass of milk. Her hand trembled a little.
He joined her at the counter, only a few disturbing feet away. She found herself edging backward.
Knock it off! she told herself. What is wrong with you? “Tuna?” she offered, shoving the bowl his way.
“Thanks.”
Alexa snatched up her lunch and deposited it on the table. To her consternation, Jamison soon took the chair opposite.
She eyed him uncomfortably. “Why are you sitting there? You never sit here.”
“Enjoy my company that much, princess?” He took a bite of sandwich.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to be so chummy.” She took a big bite and chewed rapidly.
“Am I disturbing you?” Was that a gleam in his eyes?
“Of course not. I just wondered why you’re changing your routine. Isn’t a soccer game on?”
“Maybe I like your company.”
Alexa gaped. “Since when do you like anything about me?”
He smiled. “Don’t you like my company?”
What was his purpose in this conversation? To annoy her? Or to push closer? Flutters multiplied in her stomach.
“Of course not. We get along much better when you’re across the room.”
Jamison sipped water. “Are you sure? You might actually like me if you tried to get to know me.”
“Hmph,” she snorted. “I know you plenty well. And it doesn’t entice me to know you any better.” Did she actually mean these flippant words? Or was she pushing him away, and hard, like her sister had suggested?
“How about a game of chess?”
She blinked. “You want to play a game with me?”
“Put me out of my misery. I’m bored.”
Alexa realized that she hadn’t given enough thought to what he could be feeling, cooped up with her. Boredom must be the least of it. “I’m no g
ood at chess,” she said. “I don’t think that far ahead.”
“Checkers?”
“Set it up,” she agreed. He set up the game, and they engaged in an intense, quiet game of checkers. Jamison won, not that she was surprised.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.
“I suppose. At least it’s one thing we can do without fighting.”
“I could think up more.” His brown eyes smiled. Was he flirting with her? Certainly not!
“Don’t strain your brain,” she advised, and hastily retreated to her room. Inside, she leaned against the door, trembling. What was wrong with her? She had shot off scads of prickly retorts at Jamison, like flaming arrows. She had been pushing him away. Why?
Her eyes closed. After a moment, she crossed to look out at the bustling city of Barcelona. Why had she just behaved like that? It deeply disturbed her. Hadn’t their relationship begun to evolve past that sort of behavior? Or maybe that was the problem.
The easy banter with Jamison felt safe. Familiar, too. Just like with Ben. This quiet truth settled gently into her soul.
In elementary school, her friend Ben had teased her unmercifully, and she had given as good as she had received. Their light, teasing relationship reminded her a little of Jamison and herself. It also reminded her of the happy days of her early childhood, before all the problems, and before her parents’ vicious fights and ultimate divorce.
She had thought about Ben twice now, in two weeks. Why?
They had lost touch in seventh grade, for Ben had gone to a different school. As a junior, he had returned to her high school, but by then he had become a stranger to Alexa. He was a football jock, highly popular, and a confident, rowdy, partying type.
A memory slammed in. One she had tried to forget. Alexa had been sixteen. It was just before her parents had separated. At that time, their loud, violent fights were horrible, and she had often stayed as late as possible in the school library, reluctant to go home, since both of her parents’ work shifts ended in the early afternoon. Finally, the librarian had shooed her into the hall.
Football practice had just let out, and a group of uniformed boys, looking big in their shoulder pads, advanced down the hall. Blond-haired Ben, their quarterback, led the pack.
Her Reluctant Bodyguard Page 18
