Necessary Risk (Bodyguard)

by Tara Wyatt

  Crackling tension vibrated between them, the air thick and charged as before a storm. And it was about to pour.

  “Fuck professional ethics.” He dipped his head, a tiny up-and-down movement, brushing her lips with his, a tease of a kiss. But as desperate as she was, she didn’t want to rush. No, she wanted to savor every single second of this.

  Ian cleared his throat loudly from behind them, and Sean released her, turning away.

  “I just picked something up on the security cam,” said Ian, his hard blue eyes flicking between Sean and Sierra. With swift yet somehow casual movements, he checked the clip of the gun in his hands. “I think we’ve got a visitor.”

  Sean pulled his own gun free of his waistband, his eyes still dark, but with a different kind of heat now. “Stay here,” he ground out, his voice rough. He looked like an action hero, shirtless and ripped, a gun clutched in his big hands, danger written in the hard lines of his face. “Where?”

  “Coming round to the backyard.” As if on cue, the alarm erupted with a continuous stream of blaring shrieks, and Sierra jumped, pressing a hand to her chest to keep her heart from leaping out of her body.

  “Cover me.” Sean made his way quickly across the dining room to the French doors in the kitchen, pressing his back against the wall and peering out. The sun had just about disappeared below the horizon, leaving the backyard in purple shadows. Ian mirrored Sean’s actions, his back pressed against the wall on the other side of the doors. A crash sounded from the backyard, and with a nod at Ian, Sean pushed through the doors, his gun leveled at the intruder as he chased him down, his long legs eating up the distance in seconds.

  Pulse pounding in her throat, Sierra raced to the window, practically pressing her face against the glass as she watched her own personal action hero grab the intruder around the waist, lift him, and slam him into the ground. Sean came down on top of the intruder, wrestling him onto his stomach and grabbing his arms, pinning them behind his back. Ian kept his gun trained on the man, approaching with quick, sure steps.

  The intruder struggled against Sean, who held him down easily, muscles bunching and flexing in a show of strength that had her stomach doing a slow, scalding turn.

  “Search him,” Sean called over his shoulder to Ian, who dropped down beside Sean and began rifling through the man’s pockets. Sierra’s blood turned to ice as she saw Ian pull out a capped syringe and a small serrated knife. The threatening words of the note flashed through her mind, and she sank down onto the floor, too relieved that Sean had caught the intruder to do anything else.

  Chapter 13

  After showering and dressing the next morning, Sean strode into Sierra’s kitchen, his phone pressed to his ear.

  “He won’t say a damn word to the cops,” said Clay on the other end of the line. The intruder hadn’t had any ID on him, and although he was currently sitting in a jail cell downtown, he wasn’t giving the police any information. “But he doesn’t need to talk for me to find out who he is,” continued Clay, and Sean couldn’t help but smile. Clay was expensive, but worth every fucking penny. “I used the security cam footage and was able to use the image to pull his driver’s license.”

  “How the hell did you do that?”

  “You really want to know?”

  Sean paused. “Probably not. So who is this asshole?”

  “Name’s Judah Kirkham. He just moved here from San Francisco, and guess what? He was a confirmed member of Sacrosanct there. He’s been arrested for obstructing access to Choices locations and criminal trespassing. He also just did a ninety-day stint in Pleasant Valley State Prison for his role in bombing a Choices clinic last year.”

  “So that confirms it. We’re dealing with Sacrosanct.” Something hot and possessive washed over him as he remembered the syringe and the knife the fucker had clearly planned to use on Sierra.

  “Without a doubt.”

  He hung up, hating Sacrosanct even more than before. Not only was it threatening his girl, but it had thoroughly succeeded at cock-blocking him last night.

  There was no doubt in his mind that if not for the interruption, he would’ve taken Sierra back to the guesthouse and spent the night violating his professional ethics and exploring her, discovering exactly where she liked to be touched. Kissed. Licked.

  “Morning,” called Sierra as she stepped into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, her hair in a messy bun, no makeup on. He liked her without any makeup because he could see much more clearly the freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. He liked imagining kissing every single one of those freckles, claiming every one of them for himself. “Have you seen my phone?”

  He tipped his head toward the dining room. “I think it’s still hooked up to the speaker in there.”

  She smiled her thanks and gave his arm a squeeze on her way through the kitchen and into the dining room. She’d barely disappeared around the corner when she came darting back in, a bright, surprised smile on her face.

  “You finished it?”

  He’d been too keyed up to sleep after last night’s intrusion, so he’d finished painting the dining room for her. He’d needed something to do with himself, and he hated leaving a job half finished.

  He shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “You really didn’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head but still smiling.

  “I know how much you wanted the graffiti gone. It’s no big deal.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes were soft and full of something he couldn’t quite decipher. So he simply nodded.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the island, her fingers curled around the mug.

  Instantly Sean’s mind went back to last night and the way she’d touched him, his skin coming alive under her fingers. The way she’d taken her time, exploring him, savoring him with a kind of sweet reverence that had left him incredibly hard and shaking with how much he wanted her.

  She cradled her phone between her ear and shoulder, checking her messages as she sipped her coffee. Her movements slowed, and then stilled completely, and she froze. All the blood drained from her face, and Sean pushed up from his stool, his blood pressure skyrocketing.

  “Sean?” Her voice came out like a croak, and she held the phone out in front of her. “You need to hear this.” With trembling fingers she set the phone down on the island and played the message on speakerphone.

  The voice was electronically scrambled, cold and robotic-sounding. “We told you that you couldn’t hide from us. We will always be able to find you, you stupid, filthy, degenerate whore. Stop spreading your lies. Otherwise you’ll leave us with no choice but to teach you what happens to women like you. Sluts who need to be taught their place in the world. The choice is yours. Choose wisely.”

  “Fuck!” Sierra yelled the curse and threw her spoon into the sink.

  A surge of anger pushed through Sean, and he picked up the phone, digging into the call’s details with a few taps on the screen. Once again the call had been placed from an unknown private number. It had come in the middle of the night, only a few hours after the thwarted attack.

  “I’m going to make sure Antonio gets a copy of this, and we’ll assign you a Virtus Security phone number this time. Sacrosanct obviously has connections and is working them to keep getting your number, but I can promise you that they won’t be able to reach you at the VS number.”

  She nodded and sank down onto a stool. Sean’s palms tingled, and he reached out and smoothed a hand down her back, rubbing the base of her spine in small circles. She relaxed into his touch, and he added an ounce of pressure. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, and he inhaled deeply, filling himself with her soft, warm scent. He wanted to kiss her. Touch her. Taste her. Fuck her until neither of them could walk.

  And he would. As soon as he got his hands on the motherfuckers who’d made the mistake of targeting his woman.

  Chapter 14

  It was later than
she’d realized when Sierra emerged from her office after spending the day working. She’d spent hours reading news articles, researching grant application procedures, making phone calls, preparing talking points, and reading up on the politicians who were going to be at the fund-raising gala tomorrow.

  She wondered if those Sacrosanct assholes knew that the more they threatened her, the angrier she got. The more determined she became to help Choices. She might be scared, but that didn’t make her weak. Fear itself wasn’t weakness; only giving in to that fear was. And she refused to do that.

  She could hear Sean talking on the phone as she neared the kitchen, and her body responded to the sound of his deep, warm voice, her spine tingling and heat prickling across her skin.

  “No, I’m gonna have to miss it.” He paused, listening, standing with a hip against the island, his phone pressed to his ear. “I know. But I’m working.”

  She stepped into the kitchen and waved silently. He smiled and tipped his chin at her, sending her stomach into a tailspin.

  “Listen, I gotta go. Good luck. I’ll try and make it next time.” He listened for a second before hanging up, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Sierra poured herself a glass of water and took a sip, watching him for a second.

  “I didn’t mean to listen in, but what are you missing out on?” she asked.

  “Just a baseball game. It’s not a big deal.”

  “You have tickets?”

  He shook his head. “No, I play.”

  “Oh.” Guilt pulled at her, and she frowned. “I feel really bad that you can’t go because of me.” Her drama was taking over his life, and that wasn’t fair. “You should go. Carter’s here. I’ll be fine.”

  He squinted and shook his head again. “That doesn’t work for me. After the intruder, I’m not willing to take any chances.”

  “What if I came with you to your game? Then you’d know exactly where I was. Carter could sit with me.”

  “I could sit with you where?” asked Carter as he came into the kitchen, nodding at Sean.

  “Sean’s baseball game. Help me talk him out of skipping it.”

  Carter frowned, his eyebrows raised. “You’re not gonna go? It’s your night off.”

  “I wasn’t planning on going, no.”

  “So I suggested that I could come too,” said Sierra. “Then you won’t have to worry about me.”

  “I’m still going to worry about you.”

  “But you’ll be able to see me the whole time, and you won’t have to miss your game.”

  Sean hesitated, pushing a hand through his hair, and she knew he was considering it. She sent Carter a “help me out here” look.

  “It’ll be fine, boss. I’ll sit with her in the stands. I doubt Sacrosanct’s hanging out in Griffith Park.”

  Sean rubbed a hand over his mouth, and finally he nodded, giving in. “OK. Fine.” He turned to look at Sierra. “Thank you.”

  “Well, you did paint my dining room. And, you know. Kick that intruder’s ass.”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “My gear’s in the car. I’ll get changed, and then we can go.”

  Several minutes later the three of them stood in the driveway, gathered around Sean’s SUV.

  “I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” he said, his hands on his hips. But Sierra wasn’t really listening. She was too busy checking him out in his red baseball jersey and the white baseball pants that clung to his thick, muscular legs, framing his ass in a way that made her want to reach out and squeeze it, just to see if it was as firm as it looked.

  God bless whoever had invented baseball pants.

  “Are you really bad, or something? Is that why you don’t want me to watch?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

  Carter laughed and shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

  “No, I don’t mind you watching.” A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, and she liked that she’d put it there.

  “Then it’s settled. The alarm’s set, Carter’s coming with us, and you’re ready to go. Besides, I could really use some fresh air. I want to go.”

  She heard him mutter something about a stubborn woman, and he held the rear passenger door for her. She slipped into the SUV, tucking the skirt of her white cotton dress around her and adjusting the sleeves of her denim jacket. Sean slid into the driver’s seat and jammed a navy blue ball cap down over his eyes.

  As they drove the short distance to Griffith Park, Carter showed her pictures on his phone of his eight-year-old son, Sebastian. He and his wife had split up a couple of years ago, and they shared custody. As he scrolled through the pictures—at Disneyland, at the beach, Sebastian sitting on Carter’s shoulders, eating popcorn at a baseball game, the two of them making silly faces and taking a selfie—she felt as though a weight were pressing down on her chest, making her heart hurt a little.

  She missed her dad.

  And she hoped she got to do these things with her own child someday. She glanced at Sean in the driver’s seat, and the pressure intensified. She was still getting to know him, but she had a feeling he’d be a good dad. He was kind, and smart, and he cared deeply about what was important to him. A vivid image of Sean cradling a tiny baby in his massive arms seared through her, and she found herself smiling.

  Holy shit.

  The image dissolved, and she was relieved.

  “Here’s the deal,” said Sean, easing his SUV into a parking space in the lot lining the west side of a large baseball diamond in Griffith Park. “Stay with Carter, and I’ll keep an eye on you the whole time. If anything happens, I’ve got you.” Something in the way he said, “I’ve got you” sent little zings of electricity snapping through her. The three of them got out of the SUV, and she inhaled a deep breath, relishing the fresh air. It felt good to be out of the house.

  “I seriously doubt anything’s going to happen,” she said, stretching.

  Sean circled the SUV, coming to a stop right in front of her. “You’re probably right, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t keep you safe. And I will keep you safe.” Her stomach bottomed out at the bright intensity shining in his eyes.

  He turned and popped the SUV’s hatch, slung his gear bag over his shoulder, and then slammed the hatch shut. “Carter, why don’t you scout ahead, make sure everything’s OK?” Carter nodded and took off at a brisk pace, surveying the parking lot and the baseball diamond as he went. After a moment Sean grabbed her hand and started leading her toward the diamond.

  She laced her fingers through his and he squeezed, once. She loved the way his hand felt wrapped around hers—big and warm and strong. Natural. For a few blissful seconds, her world narrowed to where they were connected, happy tingles dancing up her arm.

  “Didn’t think you were gonna make it, dude!” An attractive Latino guy with short jet-black hair, a confident smile, and a uniform matching Sean’s was headed toward them, a bat slung casually over his broad shoulders. He’d opened his mouth to say something else, but paused. A surprised look flickered across his face as his gaze dropped to their intertwined hands.

  She expected Sean to let go, but he didn’t. Instead he gave her another squeeze, his thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. Oh, God, that felt good. Such a small touch, and it did such big things to her.

  “Changed my mind. I didn’t want to risk our winning streak.” A cocky smile that she found immensely appealing played across Sean’s lips.

  “You think we’d be doomed without you?”

  “Nah. I know you would. This is Antonio, by the way.” Sean gestured at his teammate, and Antonio extended his hand to Sierra. Unfortunately, taking it meant letting go of Sean’s hand, so she did, and shook Antonio’s hand.

  “Antonio, as in Detective Rodriguez?”

  “The one and only.”

  “It’s nice to actually meet you in person.” She laced her fingers with Sean’s again, her hand slipping back into his as if that was exactly where it belonged. But then Carter came back toward
them, and this time he did drop her hand. She tried to ignore how pathetically bereft she now felt without his touch, understanding how it might look if he were holding hands with a client in front of one of his guys. She wished him luck and headed off to the bleachers with Carter.

  She almost laughed at how normal this all felt. As if she were nothing more than a woman watching her boyfriend’s baseball game on a summer evening in Griffith Park. And it did feel like that, if she forgot about the facts that her bodyguard was sitting beside her, a crazy, violent protest group was trying to scare her into backing away from her job, and Sean wasn’t her boyfriend. They’d never even kissed. Not really. Just those two tiny brushes that she kept playing over and over in her mind.

  She watched Sean chatting and laughing with a few other players, tossing a ball back and forth. She didn’t know a ton about baseball, but based on the athletic ease with which he threw the ball and the casual grace in his warm-up swings, he seemed to know what he was doing. Big-time.

  “You know, he almost went pro.” Carter’s eyes scanned the bleachers and the field, on the lookout for any potential trouble.

  “Really? Like, in baseball?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “What happened?”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not really my story to tell. Ask him about it.”

  The sun was just starting to slide down the sky, casting the field in a soft, pinkish glow. The game started, and when Sean came up to the plate, a tingle of anticipatory excitement ran down her spine. He swung the bat gracefully up over his shoulder, tipping it in a small circular motion as he waited for the pitch. With an impressively powerful swing that caused the muscles in his forearms to bunch and jump, a sharp wooden crack rang out, and the ball was airborne, sailing toward the back of the field. He dropped the bat and began running the bases, slowing his pace when he saw the ball was gone. He rounded third base, glancing up at the bleachers and winking at her as he jogged by. The butterflies in her stomach cheered him on as he crossed home plate.

  With each passing inning, Sean’s team pulled ahead by a few more runs. He was far and away the best player on the team, and a tiny part of her wondered if he was showing off because she’d teased him, or if he was just always this good. His second at bat, he hit a triple, and his final time up he hit another home run. Defensively he was just as skilled. He made more than one diving catch in the outfield, marring his white pants with grass stains.