The Unlikely Bodyguard. Amy Fetzer J.Читать онлайн книгу.
It would be agony. She turned her attention to the emblem on her steering wheel. If she looked at him she couldn’t think clearly. Why she was even considering his offer was totally irrational. But she also considered that guys like Ike and Tiny were afraid of him. She should be, too, she thought, after the other night Yet she wasn’t. He’d had the opportunity to hurt her and hadn’t.
Though she’d asked around town about him, no one knew who she was talking about and she let it drop. But what pressed her to even contemplate his offer was what she’d seen in Murdock’s limo. The face on the fax sheet was hers. That meant he’d singled her out. Why? She could only assume it was because of Excalibur and the competitors’ constant offers for her to leave Daniel and come work for them. She’d refused and she’d believed that force was beyond them. Apparently that wasn’t the case. It made her distrust everyone. Except Angel. At least she knew where he was coming from. Well, almost. She didn’t think anyone knew him at all. And never would.
And farming? She knew what to do with the stuff once it came to market, but cultivating it? Other than growing herbs on her balcony, she was out of her league. But then, if she was away, really out of touch, maybe Daniel and his seven cohorts would get a dose of reality. She could take care of herself. And they needed to know it or she couldn’t go back to Excalibur to work. Their smothering was half the reason she’d taken her first vacation in three years and hadn’t told them where she was really going. And a woman could take only so much shopping and bars and self-imposed solitude. Besides, she did have her car and portable phone if she needed to connect.
She tilted a look at him and still couldn’t decide. It was an almost too-dangerous offer. “Let me think about it.”
He released the breath he’d been holding. “Suit yourself.” At least she hadn’t said no. He would stick around, close, just the same.
“How can I get in touch with you?”
“I’ll find you.” He moved away from the car.
“Mysterious men are pains in the butt,” she muttered to herself, then heard him chuckle. She pulled the car door closed and started the engine. She warned herself not to watch him walk, that long, determined stride, his adorable behind. Except the urge took her. Oh, God, why didn’t she just say no and forget the whole idea? Spend time with him, perhaps all alone in a valley, under his beneficiary?
Was she crazy?
Then it struck her that he’d invited her for reasons of his own, that he wanted her with him enough to tolerate her and ignore the desire racing between them. Did he know that with just a glance of those steely green eyes he transformed her into quivering mush? Though it was obvious that she had little effect on him, she thought depressingly. But she knew she had some effect. If he thought she believed he was just playing a game, he was the fool, not her. She’d felt the capped fire in him when he’d kissed her the other night, felt the hardness straining his jeans.
Two days ago, Angel wanted her gone so bad he’d tried to scare her out of town.
This morning, Angel wanted her body with the prowess of a determined lover.
This afternoon, he’d been there to squelch anything Braiden had in mind.
Now, he’d invited her into his domain. Why? After the past couple days, that was the last thing she expected. His contrary behavior confused the heck out of her and her decision to be a part of his farm—the thought was still laughable—was leaning toward the positive. What did she have to lose?
Plenty, a voice whispered. Men like Angel, she knew, didn’t do a damn thing without a good reason.
As she drove away from the garden courtyard of stores, it occurred to her that she was considering spending a couple of weeks with the man and she didn’t know his last name.
Loaded down with more packages than any woman had a right to possess in one day, Calli’s steps slowed as she neared her room, her face creasing with concern. The door was wide open and as she approached, fear skipped along her spine, tightening her muscles. She could hear voices. A police car, the door open, was parked beside her room. Radio noise crackled in the blistering heat. She set her bags down a few feet from the door and peered inside. She inhaled sharply.
Her room was ransacked. Everything—everything—was trashed. Her gaze shifted to the two police officers making notes and the hotel manager. The little Asian man was wringing his hands. Both officers turned to look at her, and the manager, Mr. Wong, raced to her side, apologizing profusely. The maid had found the door open, he told her, and the room destroyed.
She looked to the officers.
And they looked back, one chubby and dark, the other blond.
“I’m the tenant,” she said, her gaze scanning the debris of her suitcases and clothes. The mattresses were overturned, the drawers raped, but most of her clothes appeared intact. A man in a pale sport coat was dusting the place for fingerprints. One cop asked for ID and she went back for her bags, offering it to him.
“Who would do this? There wasn’t much money in here.” Not to do this kind of damage, she thought.
“Did you have anything of value? Cash? Documents? Jewelry?”
She nodded and moved to her cases, pulling them off the floor. She riffled in the compartments, sighing defeatedly, then held out a pair of diamond and ruby earrings, a gold bracelet and three rings. “All my cash, traveler’s checks, bank card and two credit cards are gone.” Damn, except for her checkbook and for the one credit card in her purse, she was broke. The officers exchanged a glance, then scribbled on their pads. “Everything else of value was with me, locked in my car.”
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