Secret Service Rescue. Elle JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
to the second floor, trimmed in glistening rich mahogany. To one side of the entryway was a large, formal living room with shining wood floors and white furniture. In sharp contrast, a black grand piano filled one corner, ready to provide an elite guest list with subtle entertainment.
An older woman, slightly plump with red hair, hurried forward, her arms opening to Kate. “Oh, Mrs. Winston, I’m so glad you’re not harmed.” She engulfed the former vice president in a hug and then stepped back, raising an apron to dry her eyes.
“I’m quite all right, Maddie.” Kate patted the older woman’s back. “Just a little shaken up by the explosion.”
Maddie shook her head. “When Debra called ahead to warn me about what happened, I nearly had a heart attack.” She pressed a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. “I had to see with my own eyes.”
“Well, now that you know I’m fine, let me introduce my granddaughter, Shelby O’Hara.” Kate swept her hand toward Shelby. “And this is her grandfather, Patrick O’Hara.” Her voice dropped and her eyelashes swept down over her eyes, her cheeks flushing. “They’ll be staying with us until we sort all of this out. Shelby, Patrick, this is Maddie Fitzgerald, our housekeeper, the rock in our household. If you need anything, she’s the one you should ask.”
Sam hugged the older woman. “She’s so much more than a housekeeper. She’s like a surrogate grandmother.” He kissed the top of her cap of short red hair. “She’s really part of the family. She takes good care of us all.”
Maddie smiled and held out her hand to Patrick, her gaze going from Patrick to Kate, a slight wrinkle in her brow. “You both are welcome here.” She turned to Shelby, her smile widening, her hand reaching for Shelby’s. “My goodness, girl, you’re the spittin’ image of your grandmother.”
“And my mother, so I’m told,” Shelby added.
Kate stiffened beside her, her face paling. “I’d better clean up. I have a meeting with the press in an hour. I’m sure they’ll want to know all about what happened this morning.” She inhaled deeply and let it out.
Debra leaned close to Kate and whispered, “You might want to tell her what to expect.”
With a nod, Kate’s gaze captured Shelby’s. “If word gets out that I have a granddaughter, be prepared to be inundated by the press.” Her lips twisted. “I apologize for that, but I can’t change what is.” She glanced over Shelby’s shoulder to Daniel. “Daniel will help to keep them at bay, but you won’t be able to go anywhere without someone snapping pictures of you.”
“We should be going,” Debra prompted Kate. She smiled at Patrick and Shelby. “Maddie will help you two get settled.” Then she ushered Kate toward the staircase, the two women walking with quick, purposeful steps as they climbed to the second floor.
“Press?” Shelby’s head spun with the thought. “Why me?”
Trey scrubbed a hand over his face and grimaced. “With so much happening, I hadn’t thought about that.” He stared at Shelby. “Brace yourself.”
Shelby’s belly tightened. So much was changing around her, she was having a hard time grasping it all.
Sam touched her arm reassuringly. “The fact our mother had an illicit love affair before marrying our father will have the tabloids screaming for all the details. You’ll be a celebrity by association.”
“Sam Winston, don’t you have something better to do than scare this poor child?” Maddie waved her hands toward the big Winston man as if she was shooing a fly. She took Shelby’s hand and tugged her toward the stairs. “Come with me. I’ll show you two to your rooms.”
Shelby was swept away by the woman and herded up the stairs, her grandfather following and Daniel bringing up the rear.
Everything was happening too fast. From a nameless college student to the granddaughter of the former vice president of the United States all in the span of a day. Or rather, in the span of the two weeks she’d been held prisoner.
Shelby shivered, wishing she could go back to being the faceless college student who had nothing more to worry about than the next exam or the next paper due.
* * *
Daniel followed Shelby up the stairs. The consummate professional, he shouldn’t have been focusing on the sway of her hips as she took one step at a time. In the tailored slacks and cashmere short-sleeved sweater, she looked more like one of the Winstons than the soot-covered waif he’d found passed out on the kitchen floor of a burning house.
Even in the new clothes, she still conveyed a sense of vulnerability, no matter how fiercely she valued her independence. The kidnapping had to have taken its toll on her and made her aware of just how helpless one woman could be against two strong men. Hell, a grown man would be equally helpless in the same circumstances. Especially if he wasn’t expecting an attack.
His back stung where shards of metal and glass had impaled him, but he refused to tend to himself until he was certain Shelby was secure. After he’d taken a bullet for Kate Winston, he knew the threats to the Winstons were real and not only in the outside world, but behind their supposedly secure gates.
Shrugging his shoulders, he winced and continued up the stairs, concentrating on Shelby’s sweet derriere. Each of her movements took his mind off the pain in his back and his bum knee.
At the first opportunity, he’d seek out Mrs. Winston and ask her to remove him from the responsibility of watching out for Shelby. She was young, opinionated and didn’t want the added aggravation of someone following her around. He couldn’t blame her. He’d grown up in a large family and he valued his privacy. But there was inconvenience and there was danger. She needed to understand the difference.
Shelby had to figure out really quickly which was more important. But Daniel didn’t want to be the man to play babysitter to the college coed. Let someone else be.
Still, she was pretty, slim, athletic, and when she smiled, as she had when he’d pulled her from the fire, it did funny things to his insides. Apparently, she’d gone through hell being kept in the dark for two weeks, not knowing why she’d been targeted, who was keeping her, or if they’d eventually kill her. Poor kid.
She reached up to push the hair back from her forehead, the motion emphasizing her narrow waist, the swell of her hips and the sexy way she moved. His groin tightened and he had to retract his previous thought. She wasn’t a kid. At twenty-three, she was six years younger than he was. He told himself that she might as well be a baby. While he performed the role of her bodyguard, he had to get his mind and his gaze off those hips. The woman was his job, not a conquest.
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