The Bodyguard Page 14

  They hurried to the van and Luke grabbed the hide-a-key from under the front bumper. He slid open the side door behind the driver’s seat, tossed in their bags and helped Carol inside. The windows were tinted dark just as Luke had insisted when he’d called two of his men to help him arrange the second half of the escape plan, unbeknownst to Stellar Security. He and Carol changed their clothes, using the clothing his men had gotten for them—T-shirts and jeans.

  Carol finished putting her hair into a ponytail, then grinned as she ran her hands over the soft jeans covering her legs. “Richard would have been appalled to see me wearing something so...common.”

  Luke smiled, her restored good mood infectious. “That doesn’t seem to bother you.”

  “Nope. Not one bit.”

  Not content with just one car change, Luke drove them a few more miles outside the historic district of Savannah and they traded cars again. This time they drove a black Camaro.

  A few minutes later, with Carol in disguise so no one would recognize her, they signed in at the Hyatt Regency just off River Street as Mr. and Mrs. Carl Johnson.

  * * *

  CAROL WAS LAUGHING when they ran into their hotel suite. “That was so much fun. No one knew who I was! We walked past that reporter in the lobby and he looked right through me.”

  Luke smiled and set their bags beside the couch. “You should smile more often.”

  “Yes. I should!” But her smile faded when he took a straight-backed chair from the table in the kitchenette and propped it under the doorknob.

  But he didn’t stop there.

  He grabbed two drinking glasses, wrapped them in a dish towel, then set them on the floor. He stomped on them, startling Carol as the glass shattered beneath his shoe.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you.”

  “No problem,” she murmured as she watched him take the towel that was now full of broken glass to the door.

  He dumped the contents on the floor and used his shoe to spread it around. He double-checked the locks and made sure the security bar was in place on the door. Then he made a full circuit of the room, even checking into the cabinets in the tiny kitchen.

  Carol shook her head in bewilderment as he stood on a chair and checked the air-conditioning vents.

  “You don’t honestly think someone could wiggle themselves into the room through those tiny vents, do you?”

  “No. But they could get a camera in there.”

  The last of her happy mood died a quick death.

  He passed her and headed into the bedroom.

  She followed, curious to see what else he thought was necessary to ensure her safety and privacy. One thing was certain: none of the Stellar Security guards had ever gone to this kind of trouble for her. Luke’s thoroughness made the danger she was in feel more real than ever, but it also made her feel surprisingly safe and protected. No ill-timed picture was going to leak to the press under Luke’s watch, giving away their location to the killer.

  After checking beneath the bed and inside the closets, as well as the vents, Luke headed into the bathroom. Carol stood in the open doorway and watched him rap on the mirror over the sink, and then cup his hands against the mirror and press his face up against his hands.

  “Why are you doing that?” she asked.

  He straightened. “The mirror is on the wall that’s shared with the next room, so I’m making sure it’s not two-way glass.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. No one even knows I’m here. It’s not like the paparazzi are in the next room trying to catch a picture of me taking a shower.”

  “You’d be amazed at some of the lengths they go to for a picture that can earn them thousands of dollars. If a paparazzo bribed the desk clerk downstairs to send us to this room if we came into the hotel, and the clerk recognized us, we could be on camera right now.”

  She glanced at the mirror and shivered. “But we’re not. Right?”

  He shook his head. “No, we’re not. This suite is as secure as I can make it.” He patted the gun in the holster concealed beneath his leather jacket. “And if the worst happens, I can still protect you. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried, surprisingly. I think I may even be able to sleep tonight without nightmares. I’m exhausted.” She glanced around, noting there was only one bed.

  Luke’s mouth crooked up in a half smile. “I didn’t want to blow our married-couple cover or I’d have asked for two beds. I can sleep on the couch.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re far too tall for the couch. And, honestly, I’m way too tired to want to sleep on an uncomfortable couch myself. The bed is plenty big enough for both of us.”

  His brows rose. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. We’re both adults. I’m sure we can behave ourselves. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.”

  * * *

  SLEEPING TOGETHER WAS a terrible idea.

  Luke lay awake long after Carol’s breathing had turned deep and even. He was tired and badly needed to get some sleep so he would be alert tomorrow. Or at least, he was tired until he’d turned on his side facing her and had noticed how the sliver of moonlight coming in through the curtain traced the soft, delicate curve of her cheek. Or how she made a sexy little moaning sound in her sleep when she shifted her legs, making her long, white nightgown ride up high on her silky thighs, on skin that was flawless.

  Except for the bruises.

  Even in the dark he could see the outlines of the fading marks her husband had left on her upper arms, her thighs. His hands clenched into fists and he rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. The minutes dragged by.

  “Luke?”

  He turned his head on the pillow. Carol was facing him and staring at him. He had to force himself not to look down where her neckline gaped, revealing far more of her generous curves than she probably realized.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. His voice came out a harsh croak. He cleared his throat. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Her delicate brows arched. “It’s okay. Is something wrong?”

  Yes. “No, of course not. Go back to sleep. I’ll try to stop moving around so much.”

  He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but the beautiful woman lying beside him, or how she smelled like flowers, or that some of her hair was lying across his right shoulder. His fingers curled into his palms against the urge to thread his fingers through the glorious, curly mass.

  The bed shifted and he could have sworn she’d moved closer. He could feel her heat curling around him, making him want to pull her closer.

  “Luke.”

  His eyes flew open. He cautiously turned his head and almost groaned out loud. She was closer, almost touching. Her face was just inches from his. All he had to do was roll over and their lips would meet.

  He stared at the ceiling again. “Yes?” he rasped.

  Her hand slid tentatively across his chest.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and looked at her. “Carol, what are you doing?”

  She snatched her hand back. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe... I shouldn’t have done that.”

  He grabbed her hand, immediately softening his hold when her eyes widened with alarm. He slowly, ever so gently, pulled her hand toward him and placed it back on his chest. If she was any other woman, he’d know exactly what to do right now. He’d interpret that hand as meaning she wanted him, and he knew exactly what to do about that. But this was Carol. She was far too good for someone like him, and innocent in every way that mattered.

  Her husband had hurt her so much. She probably didn’t even realize how her touch frustrated him and made him want her. And even if that wasn’t a consideration, he was her bodyguard. He needed to stay focused. Sleeping with a client was a huge no-no on so many le
vels.

  So instead of pulling her to him and covering her lips with his, instead of sliding his hand down her back, across her hips, and cupping her round bottom against his growing erection, he kept an iron-tight control on his desires.

  “You said you thought...something. What did you think, exactly?” he asked, unable to speak above a rough whisper in spite of his good intentions.

  Her hand fluttered beneath his. He reluctantly let it go and she pulled it back. She propped her head on her palm, her gaze falling to his lips.

  “I met...him...when I was innocent,” she whispered. “I’ve never...been with anyone...else. But with him, it wasn’t... I mean, in the beginning it was very, but then...” She closed her eyes, her voice sighing out on a shaky breath before she opened her eyes again. “I don’t want to be hurt again.”

  He waited for her to say more, but she seemed to be struggling for words, and if her face got any redder it might burst into flames. He rolled onto his side and cupped his face in his palm, mirroring her posture. He put his other hand on the bed between them, palm up.

  She slowly slid her hand across the sheet and looped her fingers with his.

  “Carol?”

  “Yes?”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  A single tear slid down her cheek. “I know,” she whispered.

  “If I was going to make love to you,” he whispered, “I’d take it slow. I’d be gentle and incredibly...thorough. I’d make sure you enjoyed every touch, every stroke, every kiss. But I’m not going to make love to you tonight.”

  Her eyes had widened during his little speech, and now she ran her tongue over her lips.

  His groin tightened painfully.

  “Why not?” she whispered.

  The disappointment in her voice had him reaching for her before he realized what he was doing. He stopped himself and dropped his hand.

  “Because it’s unethical, wrong. You’re my client. I’m your bodyguard. A relationship between us is impossible while I’m guarding you.”

  A smile hovered on her tempting mouth. “Okay. Then consider yourself fired. I’ll rehire you in the morning.”

  He laughed, delighted that she still had a sense of humor after everything she’d been through. Then he sobered. “I’m serious. It would be wrong. I’d be taking advantage of you. Being in danger together forces a kind of false intimacy. It can be an aphrodisiac, but it’s not real.”

  Her smile turned bitter. “I was in danger the whole time I was married. Trust me, it wasn’t an aphrodisiac.” She reached for his hand. “I want you, Luke. And I haven’t wanted anyone in a very long time. If you don’t want me, tell me. But if you do, then don’t throw logic and reason between us.”

  He disengaged his hand from hers and lightly traced his finger down the curve of her cheek. “I want you, too, very much. But I don’t want you to hate me later.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t.” She dropped her gaze and bit her bottom lip. “But I’m still scared, even though I want you.”

  He fought a war with his conscience, but the battle didn’t last long. He wanted her too much to keep denying the attraction between them. But he didn’t want her frightened. He couldn’t bear that.

  “There’s no reason to be scared,” he whispered. “You’re the one who’s in control.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes.” He lowered his hand back to the bed. “I won’t move unless you want me to. You can touch me, or not. Kiss me, or don’t. It’s your decision.” He rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head, striking a relaxed pose he was far from feeling. He wanted nothing more than to cover her body with his, to explore every fascinating dip and curve. But he knew that wasn’t what she needed, and he sensed she wouldn’t respond to that. Not yet, not with her fledgling desire warring with her instinctive fear because of her past.

  She flexed her fingers on the sheet, as if debating whether to touch him. “Will you take off your shirt?” she asked.

  In answer, he pulled his shirt off and dropped it to the floor, then put his hands behind his head again.

  She glanced uncertainly at him, then slowly, so slowly it made him ache, she feathered her fingers up his side, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Growing bolder, she ran her hands across his ribs, testing the muscles there, exploring like an innocent who’d never been allowed the freedom he was giving her.

  And maybe she hadn’t. Not for the first time, Luke wished he could have met Richard Ashton in another century, when a man could defend a woman’s honor on a dueling field. He would have loved to challenge the monster to a duel for the brutal way he’d used and abused this kind, beautiful, caring woman.

  Her hand stilled on his abdomen and she looked at him uncertainly. He realized his thoughts of vengeance against her former husband had made him tense. He forced himself to relax and give her an encouraging smile.

  Her tentative smile answered his, and soon she was killing him again with the warm slide of her hand across his heated skin. She seemed particularly fascinated with the vee formed by his abdominal muscles and how the dark line of hair disappeared beneath the sheet.

  He’d worn his jeans to bed, to preserve her modesty. If he hadn’t, there’d be no question on her part about how much he wanted her right now.

  She slid up in the bed until her lips were close to his again. “Luke, may I...kiss you?”

  “Carol, you can do whatever you want.”

  She let out a puff of laughter. “Okay, then I’d really like you to take off your jeans, and maybe take a little bit of control—because I feel silly now and I don’t know what to do next.”

  He brought his hands down from behind his head and gently cupped her face. Then he slowly, carefully, pulled her down to him, with her on top, in control, and pressed her lips to his.

  He kept the kiss gentle, soft, or at least he tried to. But he’d wanted her for so long that the feel of her softness against his had him shaking with need. He deepened the kiss, and when her lips parted, he swept his tongue inside, teasing, tasting, teaching her to kiss him back.

  She moaned deep in her throat and dug her nails into his shoulder as she half covered him with her body, her breasts pressed against his chest, burning him through her thin nightgown. Suddenly she pulled back and stared at him, her blue eyes nearly black in the dark room, but wide as if she was stunned.

  He reached up and traced his thumb over her full bottom lip. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

  She shook her head, her hair bouncing across her shoulders. “I don’t want to stop.” She reached down between them and tugged at his waistband. “But we aren’t going to be able to do much more with you still wearing these.”

  He arched a brow. “I’ll take mine off if you take yours off.”

  She arched a brow in response. “I’ll see your bet and raise you, sir.” She rolled off him and stood on her side of the bed. Suddenly her white nightgown fluttered down on top of him, covering his face.

  He pulled it off his face just in time to see her fully nude body diving beneath the sheet. She lay back on her pillow beside him with the sheet pulled all the way up to her neck.

  Her shyness was his reminder that he was going to have to take it slow.

  This was going to be an agonizingly long night. But he was going to enjoy every minute of it. And he was going to make sure she enjoyed every minute of it.

  He slid out from under the covers and was about to shuck off his jeans and underwear when he realized he didn’t have any condoms. He stood in indecision.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, sounding worried that maybe he’d changed his mind about wanting her.

  He briefly closed his eyes, his body in agony at the thought of what he was going to have to not do. “We can’t do this,” he said, even as he pulled out his
wallet, hoping against hope that there was a condom in there. But since he wasn’t in the habit of one-night stands and his last long-term relationship had ended over a year ago, he didn’t hold out much hope.

  “Oh. I see. Well, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted— That is, I...” She let out a deep breath. “Just forget it.”

  His head jerked up.

  She rolled over and faced the other wall.

  He cursed himself for being an idiot. He rushed to the other side of the bed and squatted down at eye level. “It’s not that I don’t want you. Never, ever think that.” And just to be sure she believed him, he kissed her. And this time, he didn’t hold back. He pressed her against the pillow, half reclining on the bed, his mouth covering hers as he poured all his desire for her into that one hot, wet kiss. He stroked her tongue with his and she moaned deep in her throat again, shoving her hands into his hair and pulling him harder against her.

  When they broke apart, they were both gasping for air. He felt her heart slamming in her chest against his, which was racing just as hard.

  “I don’t...understand,” she said between deep, rasping breaths. “Why can’t we, you know...?”

  “Because I don’t have any protection,” he whispered, bending down and lightly sucking the side of her neck.

  She arched off the bed and panted his name. “Protection? You showed me your gun earlier.”

  He laughed against the side of her neck. “Not that kind of protection, love. I don’t have a condom.”

  Her eyes widened and then she laughed. He thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

  She pulled him to her and this time she kissed him. It was even hotter and wilder than the last kiss. By the time they broke apart, his jeans were so tight he thought he would die.

  “You’re wicked to tease me so mercilessly when we can’t go any further,” he complained.

  “Oh, we’re definitely going further. You’re going to get some condoms.”

  He shook his head. “No, can’t risk leaving the suite. It’s late now. The odds are much higher someone would notice us and might recognize you. Earlier, there were other people in the lobby and we were able to blend in.”