She pushed her glasses higher up on her nose and stared at him. He'd surprised her. She hadn't seen a glimpse of speculation in his eyes. Not even the slightest sheen of greed. "I don't know." She hedged a bit, not willing to admit that she thought a little better of him for not looking at her and seeing dollar signs. "Most people want to know how rich I am."
He shook his head. "It's none of my business."
"True," she said. "But that doesn't stop anyone else from asking."
"Money doesn't mean a hell of a lot to me," he said and opened the front door, allowing a wide slash of sunlight to spear into the room. "If it did, I damn sure wouldn't have joined the navy. Military bank balances are just downright embarrassing."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She didn't know what to say, so it would be better all the way around if she just kept quiet.
"So," he asked when she simply stared at him, "you want me to bring you some tea?"
* * *
After filling up on coffee, Zack kept busy the rest of the day by installing new locks on her doors and windows. Naturally, she'd objected, but he'd reminded her that it was now his job to see to her safety. And damn it, he was good at his job.
He sure as hell hadn't requested this assignment, but now that he had it, he'd do his best.
The window guard locks would never stop a man determined to enter, but it would sure as hell make the task a little more difficult. The dead bolt locks on the front and back doors, however, were strong enough to keep out just about anyone. And as he walked the perimeter of the little house, he told himself it still wasn't enough.
Disgusted, he looked at all the window panes glistening in the afternoon sunlight. Pretty, to be sure. But all it would take was a brick through the glass and whoever was stalking Kim's father would be in her house in an instant. She shouldn't be staying here. She should be in lockdown somewhere if her old man was that worried about her.
But no one had asked his opinion and, he admitted silently, he'd be willing to bet cold, hard cash that Kim would never stand for being pulled out of her house. The woman had a head like a rock.
And a body like a goddess.
"Whoa," he muttered, stepping through the side gate into the tiny backyard. "When you start daydreaming about fish geeks, Zack, old boy," he whispered, "you've been too long at sea."
That was the problem.
He hadn't been with a woman in too damn long. No wonder the doc was looking good. Hell, that one last night on the town with Hula hadn't produced more than drinking and dancing. He should have spent some quality time with a willing female. Then his hormones wouldn't be on overdrive.
It was the only explanation as to why he found himself watching Kim so closely. Or why he'd suddenly decided that glasses slipping to the end of a short, straight nose were so damn sexy.
Still grumbling, he came around the edge of the house and stopped, staring at the garden she'd made for herself. A brick patio with irregular borders drifted in and out of a patch of grass and low-lying shrubs. A few spears of green were beginning to spring from the freshly tilled dirt and he idly wondered what kind of flowers she'd planted. Judging from everything else he'd seen though, he was willing to bet they were tidy blossoms. Probably stood up straight, like little soldiers marching along the edges of the flower beds. They'd have one or two perfectly aligned leaves and would bloom and then die with predictable regularity.
The woman was wound so tight, she practically gave off sparks. Even her refrigerator was ruthlessly organized into food groups. None of which were the least bit appetizing. Plain yogurt for God's sake. Who ate that stuff?
"Who're you?"
He spun around on his heel to face a woman peering over the fence at him. Gray hair stuck out around her head like well-used steel wool and her sharp blue eyes were narrowed suspiciously on him. Her face was wrinkled, lined deeply from too many years in the sun, and her hands, propped on top of the fence, were grubby with dirt.
"Ma'am," Zack said, nodding.
"Your manners are good, boy," she said, "but that doesn't tell me who you are."
"Zack Sheridan, ma'am," he said, stepping closer and holding out his right hand. "I'm a … friend of Kim's. Staying with her awhile."
She grabbed his hand and shook it, transferring a good portion of the dirt clinging to her skin to his. "Friend, is it?"
"Yes, ma'am." He wasn't about to tell someone he'd never met before that he was here as a bodyguard. Probably just a nosy neighbor, but Zack had learned early that it wasn't wise to throw trust around too easily.
"Well, she could use a friend, I'm thinking." The woman nodded. "You just call me Edna, son. It's good to see Kim having a 'friend' over. Alone too much. Not good to be alone. Start talking to yourself and then where'll you be?"
"I—"
"Locked up," she finished it for him. "That's where. Talk to yourself and people start thinking you're peculiar. It's all right when you're old like me. Supposed to be peculiar. People expect it. Colorful. That's what I am."
"Yes, ma'am." Zack grinned. The more she talked, the higher her voice went, as if she was preaching to rows of interested listeners.
"Young people got to get out sometimes. Go to a dance. I'm always telling Kim she should find herself a handsome man. Kick up her heels a little. Looks like she listened, finally." She looked him up and down, then narrowed her steely eyes again. "You see that you take her dancing, you hear?"
"Yes, ma'am." Edna would have made a good admiral. All talk and no listening.
"Good. Now I've got to get my daffodil bed loosened up." She slapped her grubby palms down on the top of the fence. "Nearly spring, you know. Can't wait till the last minute."
"No, ma'am."
When she was gone, Zack chuckled and headed for the back door. But he hadn't gone more than a step or two before he really thought about what Edna had said. So Kim was alone too much, huh? Didn't go out? See people?
Why?
He stopped on the back porch and looked through the window in the door and spotted Kim, still sitting at the tiny table, working on her research. The woman had hardly moved from that spot all day. She flipped through books, rifled through papers and did her best to ignore him—well, except for the glare she'd shot him while he was "making too much noise" installing the locks.
She was pretty much cut off—at least from him. And Zack wondered just why it was a pretty woman like Kim would prefer fish to people.
* * *
When the phone rang an hour later, Kim reached for it and, distracted, mumbled, "Uh-huh?"
"Hey, Kim."
"Reid." She dropped her pen and leaned back in her chair. Her older brother's voice was warm and rich and slow, as any good Southerner's would be. Just hearing it made her relax a little. She realized suddenly the day was gone and she'd spent hours hunched over her work. Her back ached and her eyes were throbbing.
Plucking her glasses off, she set them aside and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. It wasn't just the day of work that had her tired, though. Having Zack in and out of her house all day had kept her on edge. Even when he was trying to be quiet, she knew he was there. She felt his presence in the room with her and her concentration had been slipping all day. It had taken her twice as long as usual to get half as much work done.
"How are you, Kim?"
She smiled into the phone, despite the unsettling feeling rippling through her. The second oldest of Abraham Danforth's children, Reid was quiet, and just as seriously minded as Kim. Though, she thought, he had lightened up considerably since falling in love with Tina.
"I'm okay. How's my favorite newly engaged person?"
"Fine."
The clipped, one-word answer immediately told Kim something was up. These days, Reid was normally only too willing to be chatty and to let everyone know just how happy he was with Tina. He wasn't an easy man to shake, so when she heard the tightness in his tone, Kim braced herself.
"What's wrong?"
"Thought y
ou should know," her brother said, measuring each word as he spoke it, "Dad got another threatening e-mail."
Kim's stomach twisted, knotted, then coiled into a vicious ache. "Like the last one?"
"Close enough."
Kim's hand fisted on the telephone until her knuckles whitened. Why was this happening? All of a sudden, her family's lives had been thrown into turmoil and nothing was the same anymore.
Zack stepped into the room. She didn't hear him. She felt him. Breathing deeply, evenly, she shot him a quick look. Questions filled his eyes, but she couldn't give him any answers yet. She had to hear the rest.
The first threatening e-mail her father received had been short and to the point.
I've been watching you.
Just enough to throw a pall over her father's senatorial campaign—and the family, not to mention her own life into chaos. As far as Kim knew, the police were still investigating. But it wasn't as easy as someone might think to track an anonymous e-mail message. Thanks to technology, stalkers had more freedom than ever to maneuver.
"What did this one say?"
Reid sighed. "Three words. 'You will suffer.'" Signed the same, Lady Savannah."
Fear tickled the back of her neck, then skittered down her spine. One letter might be a crank. This second one was a little more determined. She sighed and looked up as Zack came around to take a seat beside her at the table. Kim didn't even want to think about how much better she felt just having him close by. If she'd been alone in the house, she would have been worried about nightfall and everything that could hide in the dark.
"How's dad taking it?" she asked.
Reid chuckled wryly. "Like you might think. He's all set to tear through the computer himself and track every wire. He's frustrated, angry…"
"And scared?"
"Not so much for himself." Reid blew out a breath that seemed to echo over the phone. "He's really worried about you."
"He doesn't have to be," she said, picking up her pen to doodle mindlessly on the paper in front of her.
Zack plucked the pen from her nervous fingers and closed his hand over hers. She didn't question it. Didn't wonder if it was a good idea or not. She simply folded her hand into his and held on, grateful for the warmth.
Reid sighed and she heard the fatigue in his voice as he said, "Let's not argue that one, all right?"
"You're right. No arguments."
"Dad just wanted me to check and make sure your bodyguard was there. In your house."
"Oh," Kim said, lifting her gaze to Zack's stony features. "He's here."
Holding her hand. Keeping shadows at bay. Making her think things she shouldn't be thinking. Making her feel things that she'd be much better off not feeling.
Yeah, he was there.
He was everywhere.
"Good," Reid said, oblivious to the turmoil churning through his sister. "That'll take one worry off the old man's mind."
Kim nodded and let her own mind wander while her brother continued, telling her about the private protection the Danforths had put in place around Crofthaven, the family home. She imagined the world shrinking. Tightening up into a small, encapsulated ball, with the Danforth family gathered inside and the world locked out.
It wouldn't last.
Couldn't hold.
You couldn't stay apart from the world forever. Sooner or later, that world would find a way through the cracks. And you'd better be able to deal with it.
Zack's fingers tightened on hers as if he'd read her mind and knew that she needed that one extra squeeze of reassurance.
"Let me talk to Zack a minute, will you?" Reid said abruptly.
She stiffened. "There's no reason to—"
"Give me a break, Kim."
Everybody wanted a break. But, it seemed, nobody wanted to give her one. Sighing, she held the phone out to Zack. As he took it, she pulled her hand free of his, instantly missing not only the warmth of his skin, but the sense of connection. "My brother wants to talk to you."
Walking into the kitchen, Kim stared out her window at the street beyond the glass. She'd made her home here. Set up her own life just the way she wanted it. A part of her family, sure, yet separate and distinct. Here she wasn't just one of the Danforths. Here, she was Dr. Kimberly Danforth. She'd worked hard to earn her degree and for the small successes she'd had and the respect she'd acquired from colleagues.
And now it felt as though everything was being threatened. Some anonymous sneak was throwing invisible darts at her father and the ripples of that action were drifting all the way down to her.
And darn it, she wanted it all to stop.
She wanted her life back the way it had been just two days ago.
Kim hardly noticed when Zack came up behind her.
"Your brother's worried."
"They're all worried about me," she said, never taking her eyes off the limbs of the oak tree in the middle of her yard. Sunset streaked the sky with ribbons of gold and crimson, drifting into pink and orange at the edges. Clouds banked in the distance and the twilight breeze ruffled the leaves of the oak, sending its gnarled limbs dancing and swaying.
From two doors down came the regular thump of a basketball bouncing off the Johnson's garage and a snatch of music drifted from a neighbor's open window.
"They don't have to be worried," Zack said softly.
She turned and looked up at him, standing just an inch or two away from her. He was big and solid, and his features were set in lines of stubborn determination. She missed the feel of his hand on hers and that worried her a little. Not enough to wish him gone just now, but enough to make her wonder if things would ever be able to go back to the way they were before he showed up on her doorstep.
Worry and frustration blended together inside her and bubbled to the surface. "I just want this all to go away," she admitted, then lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "I suppose that makes me a coward."
He leaned one hip on the granite counter and looked down at her. Reaching out, he speared a stray lock of her hair and gently tucked it behind her ear. She shivered lightly as his skin brushed over hers.
"You're no coward," he said, smiling. "You didn't even want a bodyguard, remember?"
One corner of her mouth tilted. "But I've got one, don't I?"
"Damn straight, peaches," he said, his smile carrying the unmistakable sheen of self-confidence. "And as long as I'm here, you don't have to worry, either."
* * *
Five
« ^ »
The latest threat on her father's life had affected Kim whether she wanted to admit it or not.
Her eyes were haunted, shadows drifting across their grass-green surfaces. She jumped at unexpected noises and darted anxious glances behind her when they were out on her nightly walks.
It bothered the hell out of Zack.
He was forced to stand by and watch, as daily, she became just a little more tightly wound. And for the first time in years, he was unsure about what to do.
Usually, he had no doubts. He had a target and he did what he had to do to accomplish his goals. But this enemy was nebulous. Hiding in shadows, moving behind the scenes, using fear as a weapon. He felt helpless and he didn't like the feeling.
But he had to admire Kim's handling of the situation. She didn't surrender to the fear. She rose above it, going on with her life as if nothing was wrong. She insisted on keeping up with her routines, refusing to give in to his suggestions to stay close to home—or better yet, get the hell outta Dodge.
He wanted to take her somewhere. Anywhere, really. A safe house. Someplace that no one else knew about. Where whoever was threatening her father would never find her. But she wouldn't go. She'd already made that perfectly clear and he didn't feel like having the same old argument with her again.
"So," he muttered, "how am I supposed to protect her from something I can't see?" He reached for a coffee cup. "Can't hit? Can't stop?"
Damn unsettling for a man used to action to be trapped in
a holding pattern that showed no signs of letting up. And the longer they were trapped together in that little house, the crazier she made him. It wasn't only worry that had him walking a razor's edge, delicately balanced between sanity and madness.
It was Kim herself.
Zack groaned and poured himself a cup of coffee from the new coffee maker as he stared out the kitchen window. Gray clouds had scuttled in off the ocean and hung low over Savannah like a cold steel blanket. Wind whipped through the trees and every once in a while, a distant rumble of thunder rolled out like a pack of snarling dogs.
He took a sip of the steaming, rich brew and told himself the weather suited his mood. Grim. Damn it, she was pushing him way beyond the point of no return.
Worse yet, she was doing it without even really trying.
Every night, he stretched out on a narrow day bed she kept in the small second bedroom she used as an office. And every night, he lay awake, listening to the sounds she made during the night. Her damn bed squeaked loud enough to be classified as a scream. When she turned in her sleep, that shriek of sound carried to him and he wondered if she was lying on her back or her stomach? Was she wearing flannel pj's or something silky? Or, God help him, nothing at all?
The wall dividing the two rooms was a flimsy barrier of two sheets of pine paneling nailed to a few two by fours.
Which meant it was no wall at all.
He heard her breathing. He heard her soft sighs and the whisper of bed covers as sheets slid along her body. And he imagined, all too clearly, storming through those flimsy walls and showing her just how loud her bed really could squeak.
He was only averaging a couple hours sleep a night and it didn't do a damn thing for his temperament to know that Kim didn't seem to be bothered by his presence in the slightest.
Just his luck.
The fish geek was getting to him.
And for the first time in memory, the woman he wanted didn't want him.
"Just as well," he muttered and took another sip of the steaming coffee, wincing when he burned his tongue. Kim Danforth wasn't the kind of woman Zack went for. She practically reeked of permanence. He liked his women a little more temporary. He liked going into a relationship knowing that neither he nor the woman in question had any plans for a future.
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