My Bodyguard Page 9

  “Ready for some fun?” he asked Sam.

  She gave him a puzzled look and glanced between the stilt walkers and him. “You want to try?”

  “Not that.” He grinned. Frankly, he was still a little dizzy from the jump. “Let’s have some fun with our faithful friend.”

  He turned and looked right at Cavanaugh’s man, put a surprised smile on his face. “Hey, haven’t I seen you around Philippe Cavanaugh’s place? You’re a friend of his?”

  SAM WATCHED as the burly, well over six-foot-tall guy turned ruddy in the cheeks.

  “Uh…” he said then repeated it. “Just looking for my buddy. Have fun.” He turned on his heels and lumbered away.

  Sam grinned at the man’s retreat then reminded herself that the guy was far from harmless. He’d been ready to kill a sixteen-year-old hustler the other night. “Don’t you think Cavanaugh will be suspicious that we recognized his man? If he figures we’re checking to see whether we are being followed, he’ll think we have something to hide.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. I don’t think Bubba here will be bragging about his incompetence. Cavanaugh doesn’t strike me as a man who easily forgives mistakes.”

  He was probably right.

  “Would you like to go back to the mansion or walk around here a little more?” he asked.

  She’d enjoyed the festival. Spending time with Reese was nice. More than nice, making her wish…she wasn’t sure what. He had shown a different, more carefree side than usual. She wouldn’t have minded seeing more of it.

  But they had work to do.

  Chapter Seven

  That night there was a bonfire party arranged by Philippe so his guests could view the fireworks the city put on for the festival.

  Eva chatted incessantly, having had too much rum punch. She entertained them with horror stories from her line of work as a Realtor.

  “And then we go in. And right there on the living-room floor is the owner going at it like crazy with a woman in the most awful, gaudy dominatrix outfit. So my client just falls on them, shouting and swearing, grabs the whip and beats them like a madman. It turns out the woman is his wife. He was looking to buy her the beachfront condo as an anniversary gift.”

  Her audience laughed with her. “No, no, that’s not the worst part. So then this strange calm comes over the guy and he grabs me and says if the wife could do it then so can he. We should all four of us have fun together.”

  “So did you do it?” One of the guys shouted out the question from the other side of the fire.

  “You pig,” Eva admonished him. But then she put on a mysterious smile. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” And laughed at the applause and hooting that she got.

  “You have an interesting line of work,” Reese remarked quietly as someone started into another story.

  Eva had somehow found a way to sit on his other side. “It’s fun. Especially now.” She took another sip of her drink.

  “Business is booming?” he asked nonchalantly.

  Sam was looking at the current storyteller but was listening for Eva’s answer.

  “Now that Philippe is booming,” she said.

  “Right,” he agreed as if he knew all about it. “He’s extending his empire again.”

  Several weeks ago, Anita had followed Philippe to a private meeting at the Chamber of Commerce Charity Ball and overheard a discussion about a real-estate deal. The team hadn’t been able to turn up more information about that yet, weren’t sure if the deal was in any way tied to Tsernyakov.

  “He’s obsessed with that island, isn’t he? I don’t see the attraction. It’s small and flat. Boo-ring.” She pressed a finger over her lips and smiled.

  “Don’t tell anyone I said that. The locals are fiercely proud. Okay, so it has some good diving, but who wants to be underwater all the time?”

  What island? Sam leaned closer without being too obvious about it. Was Cavanaugh trying to buy a whole island? Could someone do that?

  “You think he’ll succeed?” Reese asked.

  “Not much stands in his way when he decides he wants something.” A hint of bitterness crept into Eva’s voice. But then she brightened. “Keeps my bills paid and then some. Commission is nice and it’s not about to end. He owns less than a tenth of available land. There are still a hundred owners left that he could buy out.”

  “You think he’ll get it all?”

  Eva glanced at him with a slight flicker of annoyance. “Not all of it, of course. Not the parts owned by the government. But the others.” She shrugged. “They might sell eventually. Everybody has a price. And—”

  “What are you whispering about over there?” Philippe called to her. “If you have any more saucy stories, let’s hear them. Do be fair, ma chérie.” He grinned.

  Eva sobered and pulled back—she’d been leaning toward Reese. She set her glass on the sand. “I think I’ve had enough sauce for one night.”

  Philippe laughed. “Why don’t you tell us about how you were stranded in a villa for two days with a client waiting out Hurricane Ivan?”

  But Eva didn’t get to tell that tale. The fireworks started and drowned out everything else as stars showered from the night sky above. The extravagant display went on for a solid hour. The party continued for another three hours after that, but Eva didn’t return to her topic.

  Around midnight, the group of guests began breaking up. By the end, only Reese, Sam, Eva and Philippe remained.

  “Let’s take a stroll before we call it a night.” Reese stood and extended a hand toward Sam. When they were out of hearing distance, he said, “I’m hoping Philippe will go to bed by the time we get back and we might talk to Eva while she’s willing.”

  She nodded. By morning the woman would be sober and might realize she’d said more than she should have.

  Sam walked along the surf, not minding when an errant wave washed over her feet now and then. She loved the sound of the ocean. It seemed to carry the spirit of infinite peace.

  Six months ago, she would have thought it unimaginable that she would ever get to see a place like this, would ever be walking in the moonlight with a man like Reese. He was a revelation when it came to men. He was strong but never abused his strength. He was honorable, gentle, funny, but could be serious, too, when the situation called for it.

  She was starting to think that the world wasn’t a completely horrible place to live in. Not if it had men like Reese in it and women like Anita and Gina and Carly. It amazed her how unconditionally and completely they’d accepted her from the beginning.

  And if they had, knowing her record and all that, could others do the same? Did she really have a chance at a normal future? For a normal relationship even? She glanced at Reese.

  He was watching her. “What are you thinking about?” he asked as he took her hand.

  She wasn’t about to reveal that she’d been thinking about him. And, dear God, she had been thinking about him a lot lately. Which was natural. Completely natural, she told herself. They were together twenty-four hours a day. Not noticing him would have been impossible. She needed to change the subject.

  “What island do you think Eva was talking about?”

  “My guess would be Little Cayman. It has less than two hundred permanent residents. It’s small and flat. There is an antique map of the island behind the couch in Cavanaugh’s living room. I saw it when I came to get you the other day.”

  “Why does he need it?”

  “It’s out of sight. He conducts his business here in plain view of his neighbors. He has to sneak around. Even if he manages to own fifty percent or so of the real estate on the island, do you realize what kind of power that would give him?”

  Not really. She could barely imagine owning any property, let alone an island or even a small portion of one. “You think he wants to break in to the next level?” And what was the next level, anyway?

  Reese considered that. “If he does, the power struggle will be something to watch. Illegal dru
gs and weapons and human trafficking are not virgin territories. For him to get bigger, he has to take from someone else. At a level that high, we are not talking about amateurs. Some of these people have their own private armies.”

  They walked in silence for a while, reached the end of the property then turned back. The bonfire had died down. Both Philippe and Eva were gone. Had they retired for the night together?

  Sam let her gaze glide along the shoreline. She could see the lights of the Ferris wheel down the beach. It was no longer turning.

  “Thank you for everything this morning. I had fun.”

  He grinned at her. “Me, too. You’re fearless, you know that?”

  Hardly. But it was nice to hear.

  “Ever thought about extreme sports?”

  She hadn’t thought about sports at all. Ever since she could remember, all she thought about was survival. But things were different now. She had a job. She had some money collecting in the bank. She hadn’t really spent any of it other than for basic necessities. Truth be told, she wasn’t comfortable with it.

  “I’m thinking about extreme living,” she said.

  He grinned. “Good. You’re due for some fun. What are you going to do when this mission is over?”

  “Probably stay on the island. I like this place.” She looked away. “I have nothing to go back to.” Something caught her eye on the sand and she bent to pick it up. Sea glass. Blue. Those were rare. She kept it. “I want to learn. Maybe go to school.”

  She had her GED, had gotten it during one of those times when she had spent a few months with a foster family before running away again. The Bakers had been okay. She wondered what they were doing now. They’d been the most decent of the bunch, but by then she was too scarred to fit in anywhere.

  Back then she used to believe that she didn’t deserve anything good. The prison shrink and the other women on the team had had considerable influence over her since then. Now she could almost believe that some measure of happiness was possible.

  Especially at times like this when she was walking along a moonlit beach with Reese.

  He had kissed her.

  What did that mean?

  What do you think it means, Sherlock? a voice dripping with sarcasm asked in her head. Her old voice. What do you think he wants? What do men always want?

  She shook her head. Reese wasn’t like that. He had never tried to push her into anything.

  Could he want someone like her? Knowing what he knew about her past?

  He’d kissed me once. The voice of hope spoke up.

  She trusted Reese. If she couldn’t make it with him, she couldn’t make it with anyone.

  She stopped and faced him.

  “What is it?” he asked, his expression attentive.

  Everything. Her new life was strange and overwhelming in ways she wasn’t used to.

  And Reese…

  She was trusting him way too fast, growing to like him even faster. She was coming to rely on him to be there and back her up when she was in a bind. Which was okay, while they were here—that was the idea behind their partnership. But she had to be very, very careful not to grow used to it, not to sink into some unreasonable fantasy that this might continue beyond the job.

  Because he would never want that. Would he?

  She was too chicken to talk. Instead, she rose to the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his.

  EVEN FIRST KISSES weren’t as sweet as this one. Reese could barely remember his—at twelve with a girl of thirteen who lived down the street. Hell, he could barely remember anything with Sam’s lips pressed against his with all the hopeful innocence that lived in the woman. It was a miracle that she had that despite her past. She had overcome.

  He was proud of her for that. Admired her inner strength and spirit.

  And despite knowing full well that this wasn’t the smartest thing to do, he kissed her back.

  She pressed against him with a soft little sigh that came from inside the hard shell she had woven around herself for protection. And that small sound melted his heart.

  He knew all about shells. He hadn’t taken his protective shield off in nearly a decade. He wasn’t going to now. He was just going to taste her a little longer. Something to take back into the fight with him when he left.

  For the most, he scared women—decent women he could have someday down the road imagined a relationship with. They didn’t want a man who got calls in the middle of the night and left for months at a time, doing what he did when he was away. He had killed men. Not just one or two.

  Then there were the women who were thrilled by this, who wanted him to talk about it, who were in love with the idea of some macho hero he was not. His occasional, very temporary liaisons tended to come from this group. Nobody went too deep. Nobody expected much. Nobody got hurt.

  And now here was Sam, a woman he could not classify, one of a kind.

  Kissing her was as close to heaven as he figured he would ever come. He ran a finger down her slender arms and pulled her to him. They fit each other to perfection. Knowing that, wanting her despite his better judgment, had been killing him for the last few days. He had to walk away. But he wasn’t ready to let her go, not yet. He wanted a little more of her. Soon enough, she would push him away anyway.

  And the reason behind that, her past, drove him to fury. He gentled his touch even more. He would have given his life to protect her. But that wasn’t what she needed. She didn’t need another shield. She needed to heal from the past and be able to move away from it, to grow strong enough to be able to live freely, out in the open. And she had it in her. She was that strong. He would have given anything to be able to be there as that happened.

  “I love your hair,” he murmured into her ear before he kissed the soft spot below it. He tugged on a curl, let the silk slip through his fingers.

  She sounded distracted when she spoke. “It used to be black.”

  So David had told him. “You’re perfect as you are.”

  He ran his hands down her slim back then up again, soaking in the feel of her in his arms. He wanted badly to move forward and cup her breasts—he was a man, not a saint—but wasn’t sure if he would scare her if he tried. He didn’t want to push. More than anything, he wanted her to be able to enjoy what was happening between them.

  But his hands crept toward their desired destination of their own volition. Okay. He’d stop the second he felt her stiffen. He could beat a hasty retreat in the blink of an eye.

  But when his palms got there, instead of pulling away, she pressed her body into them.

  Heaven help him.

  He had to snap out of it. Do something to stop this before they got carried away. He grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her into the waves.

  “What are you doing?” she squealed.

  He grinned. “Cooling off.”

  They were in deep enough so a larger wave lifted them both off their feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.

  “Relax,” he said, and wished he could take his own advice. Having her body pressed to his did nothing to assuage the fever of desire that coursed through his body and drew every muscle taut.

  “I’m not a good swimmer.”

  “Can you trust me?”

  She looked at him for a long moment. “I’ll try.”

  He glanced up and down the beach and found a spot where the waves weren’t breaking as hard as where they stood. “Hang on to my neck.” He swam for it.

  She trusted him enough, at least, to do that.

  “Okay. Turn on your back. I’ll hold you up,” he said when they reached the spot he’d been aiming for.

  She hesitated. “I can’t float. I tried before.”

  “I’m not going to let you go.”

  She flipped onto her back and stretched her body on top of the water, her eyes clearly saying she didn’t expect this to work.

  He placed both hands under her back. “Relax.”

  Her flat, bare stomach
and her delectable bikini-clad breasts were inches from his face, as if her body were being served to him on a platter by the ocean. And God help him, he wanted a taste more than he’d ever wanted anything in life.

  “Don’t think about sinking. Don’t think about this at all. Picture yourself relaxing on the soft sand on the beach. You’re safe, languid, breathing regularly.”

  He loosened his hold on her a fraction to see if she could hold herself on top of the water on her own. She felt the change and tightened her muscles, her body going rigid, which, of course, made her start to sink.

  “Don’t let me go.”

  “Not until you’re ready.”

  Half an hour passed before they got to that point.

  “I did it!” She clamped her arms around his neck, grinning with triumph. “Thanks.”

  His body went hard from the contact all over again. So much for cooling off in the water. “That was all you. I didn’t do anything. Feeling more comfortable in the water?”

  “Much.”

  “Now about the swimming part—” He needed to put a little distance between them.

  “Tonight?” She disengaged her arms and treaded water.

  “Here’s the thing. You know how to swim, the basics, anyway. To become a stronger swimmer, all you have to do is practice. So let’s do it. Parallel to shore. We’ll go side by side. When you get tired, you let me know and you can rest. I’ll hold you up.”

  The exercise would do him good, too, sap some of the excess energy that was humming through his body from her nearness.

  The swimming part went well, actually. Him holding her in the water in his arms while she rested, however, undid his tenuous hold on self-control every single time.

  He was grateful when she finally said, “Okay, I think I’m done. Let’s call it a night.”

  He let her walk out of the water in front of him so she wouldn’t see the silhouette of his swimming shorts in the moonlight and realize the shape he was in. She was in fabulous shape, water running down her sinuous body, pearls of it rolling off her tempting curves.