Guarding Him

by Kori David

  “I’d still like the names you came up with,” Drake said, standing quietly to the side.

  Kei wasn’t surprised that he anticipated her reason for showing up. She’d long ago established herself with the ladies that worked the streets, giving them food, condoms, and other items to make life a little easier. Once they came to trust her, they told her things they would never tell the cops.

  Prostitutes were easy targets, and when Drake showed up, Kei had started making the rounds to see if anyone was missing. Last night, she’d been given a couple of names. She was sure one of those girls was lying in this alley. The only ones that would ever miss her were her parents, but she’d live on in a file dedicated to these killers.

  Kei was sure Drake had a file with her name on it somewhere in the Bureau, too, attached to a profile. It used to bother her, the way he watched her, but then she’d shut him out and watched him just as closely. She knew things about him that she’d bet no one else did, with the exception of his team. Hard to hide things from a bunch of profilers.

  And he knew she’d show up. Damn him.

  Pulling a folded piece of paper out of her pocket, Kei handed it to him. The full names of the missing girls were listed inside, plus descriptions. It would be up to him to find their families and match up whatever evidence they managed to salvage from the body. “Good luck.”

  Kei turned away but stopped at his words. “What else do you have?” he asked.

  “Nothing useful. Yet.”

  “You’ll keep me informed?”

  It was a question and a command. Kei walked away without answering. When she was back in her vehicle, she plugged in a new air freshener. The smell of burned flesh wasn’t likely to go away soon, and she might be off pork for the rest of her life. Drake stood off to the side, his back to her. The sun began its descent, and the whole sky turned the colors of fire. Seemed appropriate for the poor woman who’d been the victim of a couple of sadistic serial killers.

  As she watched, Drake’s shoulders flexed, and he turned his head slightly as if listening for her voice. He’d felt her watching him. Starting the car, she drove away from the carnage. They shared some weird connection because Kei could feel it when he watched her as well. One day, she’d find a sharp enough knife to cut that damn connection once and for all.

  * * *

  Sunset was one of her favorite times of day. There was just something magical about the way the sky turned colors as the sun sank into the horizon. Nic knew all about the unromantic science behind sunsets, but she always closed her mind to it and focused instead on the majesty. A very large, very private cabana sat midway from the house to the ocean, providing a secluded place to enjoy the peace of the cove. No one from the other houses had bothered to come down to the beach, so she had the place to herself.

  Almost.

  “Helloooo?” The bubbly voice belonged to the woman Evan had invited along. The same girl from the charity dinner, as it turned out—Brittany Albright. She wasn’t bright, and she liked to be called Bunny. “Hi, there. I thought I saw you leave the house. Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all,” Nic said. “Needed a break from all the business talk?”

  Bunny smiled and hiccupped. Holding up her glass, she mock-saluted Nic before attempting to sit down. She lurched forward, her high heels catching in the sand, but Nic caught her before she could pitch head-first into the wicker table with the glass top. Bunny yelped, dropped her glass, and hugged her ribs.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I had a fall after that dinner the other night. No biggie.”

  Nic noticed that she didn’t quite look her in the eye when she said it, but let it go. She was dressed in some gauzy teal cocktail dress with high-heeled sandals—totally impractical for walking on the beach, especially while tipsy. Her raven hair was piled up on her head, but the strands were coming loose. And whatever perfume she wore overpowered the smell of the ocean. An entire French whorehouse didn’t need that much perfume. Nic wondered if she did it to piss off Evan since he wasn’t a fan of perfume.

  Staying quiet, Nic watched the girl as she frowned down at the spilled drink. Maybe she was clumsy, or maybe she was into rough play. Some women got off on it, but Nic didn’t think that was the case. And she had her own ideas about the injury.

  “Evan’s a nice guy, you know. He buys me really expensive things.”

  Bingo. Nic wasn’t there to save anyone but Ian and Isobel, so if this girl wanted to be involved with someone who got off on hitting girls, that was her business. But she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “You don’t have to be with Evan, you know. He’s quite a bit older than you are.”

  Bunny shrugged and sat back against the cushions of the white wicker lounger across from Nic. She smiled and then laughed. “I know. Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. I deserved a smack for sneaking off with that cute bartender. Totally worth it.”

  Nic wondered if she really did know what she was doing, but let it go and lapsed back into silence. Hoping Bunny would get the hint and stay quiet too, she went back to sunset gazing. It didn’t last, and Nic could either give up and leave first or wait her out. And she didn’t want to leave, damn it.

  “I want to be like Leigh Ashmore. Now, that woman has the right idea. She’s always with rich men. I finally met her at that charity thing.” Bunny grinned and hiccupped again. “‘Scuse me. Anyway, she was with Ian before you, and I think she wants him back if you know what I mean.”

  “Does she?”

  Ignoring—or maybe not getting—the sarcasm, Bunny nodded vigorously, several more strands of hair coming loose and floating down around her face. She brushed them back and winked. “You better get what you can from Ian before she gets him back because she’s ruthless. Men don’t say no to her. Maybe I should get my boobs done again.” Pushing her ample cleavage together, she plumped them up and moved them around until they were in a spot she seemed happy with. “What do you think?” But she lost interest the moment she spied her drink. She picked up her empty glass and frowned. “I guess I should get back. The liquor here is really good.”

  “Take your shoes off first; it’ll make walking on the sand easier.”

  “Good idea. You’re smart and pretty,” she slurred. “Good thing you already have a man; otherwise, we couldn’t be friends.”

  Nic barely managed to suppress the laugh. “Good thing.” And with a finger wave, Bunny was gone, but at least she’d taken her shoes off. The girl was going to have an actual fall and hurt herself more if she wasn’t careful.

  “She really did go to Harvard,” Ian said, coming around from the other side of the cabana.

  “Who filled out her application?” And then she burst out laughing. Ian chuckled as well.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Nic nodded, still smiling about Bunny. Then she sobered. “Your brother is hitting her.”

  “I think you might be right,” Ian said. He frowned as he stared toward the place Bunny had just vacated. “I’ve tried talking to him about the rumors I’ve heard, but, of course, he denies it. I’ve seen the look on his face when his women don’t do what they’re told, but I’ve never seen him raise a hand to anyone. Hell, he never even raises his voice. And not one single woman has ever filed a complaint.”

  “And what would you do if they had?” Nic was intrigued. Ian had his suspicions, but, in most cases, wealthy families tended to cover up for each other. Sending the affected member away to rehab or counseling was the way, not getting the police involved.

  “I’d nail his ass to the wall and make sure he served some jail time for domestic violence.”

  Nic believed him. Dear Lord, the man was the whole package. Good looking sure, but what really mattered to her was who he was on the inside. Ian Jamison was one of those rare good guys—a man who stood up for what he believed in, worked hard to make his dreams come true, and respected women. Having met his mother and father, she had no doubt he learned it from th
em.

  “So, what happened to Evan? Did your mom drop him on his head when he was a baby?”

  Ian leaned back with his arm along the backside of the couch. Dressed casually, his charcoal gray shirt complemented his eyes and made them look like slate. The collar opened at his throat, and his jeans molded his muscular thighs. He’d cuffed the bottoms to avoid the sand, and his feet were bare. There was a chill to the air, but he looked warm and inviting. Nic stayed where she was—far away from her client. He hadn’t answered her; instead, he looked out over the waves crashing against the sand—coming ever closer as the tide came in.

  “Evan was always different. A loner. He’s smart and very good at what he does, but his reputation with women isn’t good.”

  “Why did you hire him?” Another curiosity.

  “He’s a brilliant marketing manager, and he’d made his mark on both coasts by the time I started Jamison Electronics. When he asked to head up Marketing for me, I was flattered.”

  Nic thought she understood, having witnessed the family dynamic at dinner. “Because he’d never shown any interest in you before?”

  “You’re an unnervingly astute woman.”

  “It makes me good at my job. And he’s the odd duck in a family of swans.” Dinner had been lively with laughter and chatter, and Evan had been uncomfortable. To the point of sitting off to the side a bit and only joining in when asked a question directly. Even Bunny had been vivacious and funny.

  Ian chuckled. “I’m a swan, huh?”

  Nic shared the smile. “Well, they are very social creatures that can be protective of their families.”

  “They also mate for life.”

  “Well, this conversation turned all Twilight Zone.”

  Instead of giving her a comeback, Ian rose to his feet and held his hand out to her. “Walk with me.”

  Nic looked at his hand as if it were infected with some deadly disease, but he stood there patiently waiting for her to decide. “A walk along a beach isn’t prudent.”

  “Chicken.” His voice whispered the taunt, and the smirk on his full lips begged a heated response, but Nic wasn’t twelve and had never been one to rise to the bait.

  “Bok, bok.” She stayed where she was. Part of her wished he would storm out, offended that she wouldn’t leap into his arms for a romantic stroll on the beach. And part of her hoped he’d wait her out. She’d had a single glass of white wine with dinner, so her head was clear enough to know that a romantic stroll was dangerous to her. She didn’t have the excuse of a little too much to drink making her reckless.

  She loved the beach but usually sat alone in the twilight to recharge. She’d never done the whole walk-on-the-beach thing with a guy. But she wanted to, and not with just any guy. Nic wasn’t sure what his end game was, not that this was a game for either of them. With a long sigh to cover the fluttery feeling she had, she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

  “This is such a bad idea.”

  “I’m going to end up with a complex,” he said, keeping his voice light.

  His warm hand enveloped hers as she left her shoes and followed him out of the large cabana and into the wind blowing in off the ocean. It smelled so clean and fresh, with that hint of salt that clung to her skin. “Somehow, I can’t see you having a complex about much.”

  His hand tightened on hers. “Perhaps not.”

  She shivered. The cold breeze flirted with the edges of her emerald green sweater that hung in angles around her hips.

  “Are you cold?”

  Shaking her head, she answered, “Warmer than I have any right to be.”

  Ian pulled her closer as they walked, well away from the water, but close enough that the sand was damp and easier to navigate. “What do you think of my parents?”

  Thinking about his parents brought a smile to her lips. “They’re amazing people and the way they are with each other—"

  “Nauseating,” Ian chuckled.

  “I guess seeing your parents flirt like teenagers might provoke the gross-out factor, but since I didn’t grow up with it, I think it’s great. Are you sure Evan isn’t adopted?”

  “Isobel used to make up stories about our parents finding him at some orphanage and bringing him home because he was really the son of bridge trolls who didn’t want him.” He smiled as he looked at her, causing her stomach to flip.

  Damn.

  Nic was aware of Ian on every level of her being. The breeze brought in the faint musky scent of his cologne, and the warmth of his body next to hers caused a riot in her hormones. Her head shouted at her to be smart, but her body screamed things that were openly pornographic. She looked up, but there must have been cloud cover because no stars twinkled at her.

  “I wish to God I knew what you were thinking,” Ian said.

  She closed her eyes briefly before looking at him. His face held the same hunger she was sure showed on her own. There was no way she could tell him that she was imagining what it felt like to have him inside of her, his sleek muscles bunching and surging as he pleasured them both. “I was thinking that we should get back.”

  “Liar.” He pulled her closer, trapping her hand between his chest and hers and using his other arm to keep her close. “Tell me what you were really thinking.”

  “I don’t think so,” Nic said, in a purr that she hadn’t even been aware she was capable of making.

  “Damn it,” he growled before his lips were on hers.

  “Mmmm.”

  He tasted warm and salty with a hint of the wine they’d had with dinner. And, oh dear, the man knew how to kiss. Nic’s breasts flattened against his chest, aching to be touched as she used her free hand to cup his face before running into his silky hair.

  “You’re fired,” he growled, pulling his lips off hers and sweeping her off her feet just as the water reached them. She hadn’t even been aware that the surf was that close. Something about that seemed wrong, but all she could focus on was being carried by a strong man and kissing him again. So, she did.

  “I thought we settled this?” she asked, but her protest was weak even to her own ears. And then she couldn’t speak.

  Tongues dueled, tracing teeth and lips before tangling together in an erotic dance. Ian took half a dozen steps into the still-warm sand further up the beach. Then he was on his knees, setting her gently on the sand. Nic felt the grit in her hair as Ian laid her down and stretched out beside her, framing her face with his hands and continuing to kiss the stuffing and objections right out of her.

  When his thigh found its way between hers, the ache there went from warming stove to raging forest fire, burning through her. Jesus, he hadn’t even touched more than her face and her lips with his, and she was ready to explode. If he actually touched her, skin to skin, she might not survive it.

  “I want this,” Ian said. He’d stopped kissing her, leaving her lips tingling and moist and feeling swollen from the attention. “I want you, Nicolette.”

  “Ian—"

  “I know your reasons why this can’t work, not right now. I want to push this, but I won’t.” He leaned closer to her and teased her mouth with his, touching and then pulling away. Teasing her. Teasing himself.

  “You make me forget, Ian. And that’s dangerous.”

  “We’re safe here,” he argued. “You made sure.” He kissed her eyelids, saying,

  “I had to taste you again.”

  “Maybe we are, and maybe we were followed, and you’re an easy target lying here on the beach with me.”

  His thumb ran over her jawbone, a smooth caress that went from her ear to her chin. “Tell me about him.”

  Nic’s mind went blank at the sudden topic switch. “Who?”

  The muscle in his jaw jumped. “The man who hurt you. Is he the one that shot you?”

  It was as if the ocean water had rushed over them both, dousing her with some cold common sense. Putting her hand against his chest, she pushed, knowing he’d back off. There was a take-charge-alpha-ma
le hiding under all his brains and reserve, but he was first and foremost a gentleman.

  “We should get back to the house,” Nic said.

  His lips tightened, and his eyes glittered as they picked up the lights from the houses up on the bluff, but he rolled to his feet and held his hand out to help her up. “At some point during this relationship, you’re going to tell me that story.”

  Nic shook the sand from her hair and sweater, trying to think of something to say. The problem was the attraction. If this were merely one-sided, there wouldn’t be an issue. A couple of sharp words and boom—back to client/bodyguard ground. But this job was quicksand; one moment she had solid footing and the next she was sinking into this—into him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have taken the walk with you or led you on. That was unforgivable.”

  Grabbing her hand, he tugged her back to the cabana. “Let’s get your shoes and then get back to the house; it’s getting colder out. And you haven’t led me on. I tried to respect your wishes up to a point. But what’s between us is explosive. I want it, and you do too.” He held up his hand when she started to protest. “My parents like you, and they have great instincts.”

  “That makes me feel worse. What are they going to say when they find out I’m just your bodyguard?”

  Ian glanced down at her as they walked. “You are many things, Nicolette Montgomery, including a bodyguard.”

  It was ridiculous the way he made her feel—the attraction that was almost out of control, plus the fluttery feeling of being in a new relationship. As much as she tried to deny it, that’s what was happening. Little bits of sharing, meeting his family—that’s what normal people did. The only problem was that this wasn’t an ordinary situation. Hell, if she were really just a replacement secretary, even that wouldn’t be as odd.

  Nic was leaning toward breaking her rule. It was so tempting just to let go and let it happen the way Ian wanted. But back in the back of her mind was the knowledge that she’d kept things from him—important things about her family and her life. Plus, the gunshot wound.