Someone To Watch Over Me (17 page)

She scrolled over the items and then paused.
“You know, some of these items have bids well above the retail
price. That surprises me. I expected a little of that, but some of
these bids are way over.”

“It’s for a good cause.” Shawn said.

“Let's keep our fingers crossed that this
continues.” She twisted around and glanced up at him. “What have
you been up to?”

“I've got some news on your stalker.”

Morgan's upbeat mood evaporated and her eyes
took on a wary expression. “Okay.”

“The fingerprints on the bottle found at your
house match the ones on your car. He's the same guy.”

Morgan leaned back in her chair. “We still
don't know who he is, right?”

“Not yet. But we can hope that something will
turn up.”

She fingered the hair away from her face.
“The sooner the better, I don't know how much more of this I can
take.”

Shawn nodded. “Are your parents cool with the
change in accommodations?”

“Yup, reservations made.”

“Good. I'm bringing in Sabrina to assist with
your security. She’s the lady you met yesterday at the office.”

“Okay, no problem.”

“I'm going to put her in the suite with you
tomorrow evening.”

Morgan opened her mouth and then closed it
without comment. She leaned forward in the chair, slid her hand
over to the mouse and exited out of the auction site. She stared at
the computer screen. She spoke in a flat controlled voice, “I'm
confused. If my stalker is as dangerous as you think, why don't you
want to be in the adjoining room?”

Shawn clenched his jaw. If he didn't know
better, he'd think Morgan took the change in plans personally. He
stepped back and walked around the desk. He needed to look her in
the eyes, get control of the situation,
and to put some space
between them.

Morgan locked eyes with him. “Where will you
be?”

“I'll be there. But maybe he’ll make a move
with only a woman bodyguard close to you.”

“If he does, can Sabrina handle this?”

“I believe so. She's been trained for
security detail, has several years of karate and I'll be there for
back up.”

“What color?” Morgan asked.

“Color,” her question threw him off guard. “I
don't know the color of the dress she'll wear.”

Morgan smirked and then giggled. “No silly.
What color belt is Sabrina at?”

Shawn paused, “Uh, not sure. Purple, I think.
I haven't asked her recently.”

“Not black?”

“She might be by now. You can ask her.”

“I will,” Morgan said.

***

Shawn shot a glance over to Morgan as he
pulled into the driveway at Copper Creek.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, just had a déjà vu moment.”

He didn't like the tone of her voice. A
nervous quality threaded through it.

Shawn cruised past the visitor parking lot
and stopped at the front entrance. A young man in uniform came
around and took the keys from Shawn for the valet parking. Morgan
waited as Shawn walked around and assisted her out of the car. He
leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Let’s see if we get any
notes today.”

Morgan glanced at him and murmured, “God, I
hope not. The ones we received yesterday were more than enough for
me.”

Shawn slid his arm behind her and urged her
to the front door. Morgan moved forward and by the time they
reached the banquet manager’s office, Ellen was waiting for them.
“We're ready for the walk through.” She escorted them to the
ballroom and Shawn listened as Ellen and Morgan ticked off the
final tasks with the timelines. The flowers arrived at two, the
band sound check at three, bar set up at five, and the event
launched at six. The time schedule rivaled a military campaign. He
admired how Morgan rolled through the list without notes as she
strolled around the ballroom and checked the layout.

Morgan took several minutes and walked the
room before turning back to the employee and Shawn. “Ellen, this is
perfect.”

The banquet manager smiled and visibly
relaxed. “Thank you. Copper Creek Resort is honored to be chosen
this year as the location for the fundraiser. We hope the
relocation of the event here will be the first of many years.”

Shawn heard a buzzing sound and Ellen pulled
up her pager to study the screen. “I'm sorry. I must take this. Is
there anything else we need to cover?”

“No, we’re good. Again, thank you,” Morgan
said.

Ellen left, and Shawn surveyed the empty
display case at the front of the dining area. “You didn't discuss
the plans on how to handle the jewelry.”

“The resort is not involved,” Morgan replied.
“The pieces are coming via armored truck at five-thirty.”

“Good.” For a few moments he harbored the
concern Morgan might personally bring them from the store and that
added an element to the security he'd prefer not to deal with.

“I have a question for you.” Morgan said.

He glanced over at her. “Shoot.”

“How do you really feel about Mexican
food?”

He snorted a laugh. “Why do you ask?”

“I noticed you ordered a burger for lunch at
Lupe's.”

Morgan walked over to him and flashed a
mischievous grin. “Come on, dinner. Tonight, your place, I'll
cook.”

He grinned. “You don’t have to. We can order
pizza.”

Her smirk bloomed into a full smile. “You
don't think I can find my way around the kitchen, do you?”

Shawn arched his brows, cocked his head
slightly, and grinned. “Can you?”

She gasped in a melodramatic fashion and
broke into a throaty laugh before giving him a soft playful smack
on the arm and taking a step back. “Yes, I can. But if you are
scared that you won't survive the experience, we can order
pizza.”

“No, I trust you.” Shawn reached out for her.
Morgan stepped back and gave him a soft smile. Her eyes were golden
brown and sparkled with warmth and promise. He sucked in a shallow
breath at her silent invitation.

The little voice in his head whispered he
shouldn't get emotionally involved, that doing this could go wrong
in so many ways. But his chest tensed and his heart literally ached
in protest.

“Well?” Morgan asked.

“Oh, what the hell,” he pulled her in and
kissed her.

Morgan melted into his arms and a soft
whisper of a groan escaped her lips.

Memories of Christy and the past evaporated.
All that mattered was here and now. He opened his lips and let his
tongue gently tease her lips. Morgan opened to him and he deepened
his kiss, savoring her softness and warmth.

When Morgan slid her hands around his neck he
drew her in for full body contact. He felt the softness of her
breasts against his chest, the way she gently stroked the nape of
his neck and the way her tongue played against his. He drank in the
sensations greedily, like a man who was dying of thirst and who’d
just been given water.

Shawn pulled back and took a few fast draws
of air. He needed to slow this down now, or they’d both end up on
the carpet. Morgan opened her eyes and looked up at him through
half-opened eyes simmering with desire.

The room divider behind her swayed and he did
a quick double take. Not a little swing for the air conditioning
hitting them, but seriously swinging back and forth.
What the…
We’re not alone.

Morgan opened her eyes and frowned.
“Shawn?”

She turned in the direction of his stare and
then glanced back at him. He raised his finger to his lips,
signaling for her to be silent as he walked over and yanked the
dividers. They snapped violently against his pull but did not
open.

“Stay here.” Shawn passed her in long strides
and opened the door to the room and scanned the hallway.
Empty.
He strode up to the adjoining ballroom door and
paused to withdraw his gun. He slowly pulled the door open. He
glanced from side to side before he entered and searched the room.
No one was there. He holstered his weapon, walked over to the
blinds and gave them a light touch. They moved slightly but lacked
the swing he'd witnessed moments ago. Shawn then gave them a good
firm shove. They swayed back and forth. Clearly someone had pushed
them. Maybe an employee or was it someone else?
Like Morgan’s
stalker.
He’d never know. Whoever had been here was long gone.
Shawn reached out and stilled the divider.

I let my guard down.
The voice in his
head chastised him. He wasn’t supposed to get distracted. He put
both Morgan and himself in jeopardy if he did. Shawn ran his hand
through his hair and closed his eyes. He needed to get a grip on
this,
on everything.

“Morgan, are you okay?” Shawn asked.

Her reply was muffled by the divider. “I’m
fine.”

“Don’t move. I’ll be there in a minute.” He
turned and headed back to the Arizona Ballroom. As he entered the
door, Morgan strode up to him. Her expression was a mix of worry
and anticipation. “Well?”

“Nothing, come on, we're out of here.”

He positioned himself at her side as they
walked down the hallway and headed through the lobby to the front
entrance. As they stood waiting for the valet to retrieve his SUV,
Shawn glanced down at her. Morgan appeared perfectly calm, except
for one dead giveaway, her hands. She fingered her purse
restlessly.

“Mexican food for dinner, what did you have
in mind?” He asked.

She glanced up at him with a moment of
confusion flittering across her face. His question caught her off
guard, but she forced a smile.

“Sour cream enchiladas.”

***

Frank waited until they left for the parking
lot before he sprinted to his car. The instant the engine fired, he
cranked the air-conditioning up full blast. He'd found her. She'd
been at the store. This time he wouldn't lose her.

A light sweat broke, and he took short rapid
breaths. Frank wasn't sure whether it was the thrill of finding her
or the hunt, but he was amped on a heady adrenaline buzz and had
only one thought, get near Morgan. Frank craved her like an addict
who needed his next fix.

He wrestled with the not-so-smart urge to
catch up and follow more closely. But after yesterday, Frank knew
he'd have to hang back. When the SUV turned west on Lincoln Drive,
he grinned. They were driving to the resort. He slowed down below
the speed limit, letting the gap between them widen. They would
already be inside the hotel by the time he arrived and they
wouldn’t be any the wiser.

Frank pulled into the driveway of the resort
and scanned the lot the couple used yesterday. The black SUV was
nowhere to be found. His heart pounded rapidly as he detoured from
the entrance and glided by the valet parking.
Where was their
vehicle?
He clenched the steering wheel and forced himself to
slow his car as he surveyed the parking lot. Tucked away in the
back, he found the black Escalade.

Frank eased his grandmother's car to a stop.
Where should he park? This vehicle would stick out like a sore
thumb among the luxury automobiles. What he needed was somewhere
out of the way. He lifted his foot off the brake pedal and crept
forward. “I know,” he murmured. “I'll use the employee parking
lot.”

Several minutes later he found the lot and
after parking the car, Frank stepped out and glanced around. Three
Hispanic women wearing maid uniforms stood outside the employee
entrance speaking in animated tones. He didn't understand Spanish
and avoided eye contact as he strode past them. Laughter erupted
and he stiffened before taking a quick glance over his shoulder at
the maids. They weren't looking at him, or worse, laughing at
him.

Frank opened the door and stepped in. The
light glaze of sweat super cooled him as he moved down the hallway.
A shiver of anticipation reverberated through him as he narrowed
his hunt for the couple. Few people were out this time of the day.
He passed the restaurant, gift shop, and lobby and no one gave him
a second glance as he strode toward the wing where the ballrooms
were located. As he reached his destination, he stopped at the
mirror that hung on the wall. His heart thudded rapidly, and he
wiped his palms on the sides of his chino pants.

He studied his reflection for a few seconds
before finger combing his dark brown hair back and adjusting his
oxford shirt. He looked okay. No one would think he didn’t belong
here. Stealing a quick glance around the corner, he checked the
hallway before he jogged down to the Arizona Ballroom's doors. As
he reached for them, he froze.

What was he doing? This wasn't the plan.
Their first face-to-face meeting was supposed to take place alone.
No distractions or competition from anyone. Morgan needed to know
how much he cared for her. He should leave and stick to his plan,
but he couldn’t. The voice inside his mind screamed at him to get
closer.

He walked a few doors down and cracked open
the door to the adjoining ballroom and peeked in. The sunlight
filtered through the sheer drapes giving the impression of a cloudy
day. The expanse of wheat-colored carpeting, barren of any chairs
or tables, made the room appear huge.

He slipped in and crept up to the room
dividers. The conversation on the other side was in low quiet
tones. Morgan said something about Mexican food and the man said
something about pizza. Now the voices stopped. Without thinking,
Frank placed his hands on the divider and leaned in to hear.

The temporary wall rolled away from him. He
lurched back before attempting to stop the movement. The few
seconds of swaying seemed like an eternity. When the dividers
stopped swinging, he exhaled a ragged breath. Had they noticed?
Frank touched the screen with his fingers. The room next door was
silent. Then the dividers jerked violently.

Frank jumped back, almost stumbling and
falling on his butt.
Shit!
He scrambled to his feet, and the
adrenaline turned his knees to rubber. He staggered a few steps and
then bolted to the exit. He hit the door, shoving it wide open
before he sprinted down the hallway. Only after he reached the main
building did he slow to a walk. He paused and glanced over his
shoulder to confirm he wasn’t followed. He studied the guest
traffic around the lobby. They were preoccupied by their own
affairs. He smirked, and a nervous giggle erupted as he shoved his
hands in his pockets and strolled back to his car.