Various States of Undress (5 page)

Walking back downstairs, he went into the kitchen and checked the walk-in pantry around the corner in a hallway. Fully stocked with dry goods as promised.

Across the hall was another bathroom; this one with a shower, no tub. He expected he’d be using this one. It was smaller, and he damn sure wasn’t going to share a bathroom with the president’s daughter.

Through another door was the small second bedroom. It was wood-paneled, floor to ceiling, and contained a double bed, neatly made up with a worn quilt. On a bookshelf across the room he saw dozens of family photos, all apparently taken at the cabin. It was a strange feeling, being alone in a place that was the personal space of the president of the United States.

He doubted he’d ever get over the awe, but he had a job to do, regardless. And he needed to get Carolina out of the vehicle. Opening the back door onto the deck, he locked it behind himself and walked the perimeter of the back side of the cabin, noting the placement of stone steps at either end, and a larger set of steps in the middle.

Jogging down them, Jake flicked on the flashlight and trudged through a drift. A virtual wall of swirling snow made him stumble as he rounded the corner to the front of the house.
Holy shit
.

Head down, he ran to the SUV and knocked on Carolina’s door. It opened immediately and he had to jump back to avoid being smacked in the face. Carolina hopped to the ground and took off for the cabin. He sprinted after her. “Wait, please!” he yelled into the storm.

Her laugh echoed back to him but was cut off by the moaning wind. When he reached the cabin, he found her breathless on the porch, grinning. “I love snow. I mean,
love
it!” she said, kicking the toes of her boots against the top step to knock off chunks of the white stuff.

Jake just managed to avoid shaking his head. “I’ll get the luggage. Go on inside and close the door.” She stared at him. “Please,” he added, and then turned to jump back into Mother Nature’s wrath.

He sprinted back to the SUV and tapped on the driver’s window, which rolled down a crack. “You need to get out of here unless you want to sleep in the command center.” Jake said. He gestured to a small, new building fifty yards from the house. Another SUV was parked nearby, the roof of the vehicle already blanketed with a foot of snow. He doubted it would be going anywhere soon.

“I’ll make it. Jackson’s only ten miles away.” The driver gave him a thumbs-up. “Just heard from Agent Evans. She can’t make it tonight, but she’ll chopper in tomorrow morning.” He squinted against the snow. “Unless the pilot can’t get through.”

“I don’t want to hear that,” Jake said. Even though the idea of days on end with only the lovely Carolina for company sent a shiver up his back that didn’t have anything to do with the cold.

The driver laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will be fine.” He pointed at another building, the windows alight, at the edge of property, just inside the fence. “Caretaker’s cabin. From what I’ve heard, she’s a cranky old lady. Very eccentric. She owns a gallery in Jackson, but lives in a one-room house.”

Jake nodded. “I know. She’s a friend of the family. Drive safe, man.”

After grabbing Carolina’s large suitcase, his duffel, and their two laptop cases, he hurried up the steps and into the house slamming the door behind him.

“Whew,” he said, blowing out a breath. “It’s freezing up here. I’ve seen more snow in the last ten minutes than I’ve seen in my whole life. Guess that’s not hard, since I grew up in Florida.”

Carolina stood in the kitchen, her hands splayed on the countertop facing the living room. “Wow. That little speech is more than you’ve said in six hours. Good job.” She smiled. And although the kitchen was dim, her obvious enthusiasm, albeit sarcastic, lit the room up like a neon sign.

He grunted in response. “Thanks, I guess. Uh, Agent Evans won’t be arriving until tomorrow.” He paused. “Were you wanting to see your friend tonight?” God, he hoped not.

“No. I’d love to, but I need some rest first.” After flipping on the lights above the kitchen sink, Carolina pulled open the refrigerator door. “Want some dessert?”

Jake thought about the mammoth burger he’d eaten at a diner in Jackson a half an hour ago. It was sitting like a rock. “No thanks.”

“Well, all those groceries were delivered, and I’m not wasting them.” She poked her head inside the fridge. “Oh! Rice pudding. I wonder if we have raisins.” She turned, plunking a plastic tub on the counter. “I’m going to heat this up and curl up on the sofa. Could you make a fire, please?”

He glanced at the cold fireplace and then back at her beaming face. She looked . . . different. Relaxed. Content, even. The cream-colored turtleneck she wore enhanced the pink of her cheeks and her dark, glossy hair. He’d never seen her in jeans before. Then again, he’d only known her for two weeks. Had she been in dresses and heels that entire time? It didn’t matter. She looked happy this way. He just hoped it wasn’t a show to mask her hurt over Roger.

She cleared her throat, and his gaze snapped back up to her face, noting her raised eyebrows. “You’re staring again,” she said.

Yes, he was. He turned and headed across the Western-patterned rug on the living room floor. He needed to quit doing that. She was going to start thinking he was creepy. He gave her a curt nod. “I’ll make a fire.”
If he could remember how.

As he pretended not to struggle with kindling and fireplace matches, he heard cabinet doors creaking and pans clattering behind him. She sighed again. “I can’t believe I’m actually here. Just me, a warm cabin and someone special to snuggle with.”

His hands fumbled on the can of matches and they spilled across the hearth. With numb fingers, he began picking them up.
What
had she just said? From the corner of his eye, he saw her approaching. Uh oh. Maybe she was on the rebound. But so soon? He wouldn’t have pegged her for that type of woman.

Her knees brushed his back as she skirted around him and reached inside a built-in cabinet next to the fireplace. “There it is. Ten years old and it still looks great,” she said with a laugh, and shook out a thick blanket. She held it up. “My junior high obsession.”

Jake froze in a crouched position, a handful of matches held aloft. He stared at a life-sized image of Justin Timberlake screen-printed on the blanket. The singer’s hands were behind his head and his eyes smoldered promises that no schoolgirl should even know about. “Your parents let you have that on your bed?” As soon as he said it, he knew he’d crossed a line. And he felt like the dumbest shit ever to be born. She wasn’t on the rebound. She was just happy to be away from the fishbowl she’d inhabited for two months. Masking a wince, he looked up at Carolina.

But she was grinning. “As I used to say back then: Well, duh.” She laughed and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, heading back to the kitchen. “I was only fourteen, after all.”

Jake could feel her staring at him and he fumbled the matches again. What the hell was she going to say next? Because she was going to say something, and he needed to concentrate.

“Speaking of age, how old are you?” she asked casually.

He smiled to himself. “Thirty.”

The match he’d been scratching against the brick hearth finally lit. Within a minute he had a fire coaxed to life, and he stood brushing his hands on his pants. “There’s your fire. I think I’ll unpack.” He crossed into the kitchen. “Miss Fulton, I know that—”

“Carolina,” she corrected, stirring a pot on the stove.

“Carolina. I’m assuming that the large bedroom belongs to you and your sisters, but it has a giant window with no curtains. I think it would be best if you slept in the other bedroom. Downstairs. For security reasons.”

She turned with a grin. Her delicate cheeks were even pinker from the heat of the stove. “You’re going to sleep upstairs in one of the twin beds covered with ruffles?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow night. Tonight I’ll be on the sofa. When Evans gets here we can fight over the ruffled beds. But I get first dibs. Evans will just have to choose from the leftovers,” he answered, realizing that he sounded like an idiot.

“Fine. If you find my diary, though, beware. It’s booby trapped.” She smiled at him over her shoulder, licked the spoon and went back to stirring.

Jake ripped his gaze from her mouth. “Not an issue. Be right back. Just stowing my gear.”

He turned sharply and headed for the stairs. In the little girl bedroom, he flopped his duffle on a bed—not hers—and went to the window. In the dim glow cast from the light on the back deck, he could see nothing but swirling white in a sea of blackness. It seemed they had arrived here just in time. Another few hours, and he would have had to navigate Secret Service protocol around a hotel’s security personnel in Jackson. That would have been a headache.

But worth it
, he reminded himself. It wasn’t supposed to be a chore to do his job. It was a privilege. Most field agents would gnaw off their arms to get the detail he had. Hell, his own father had never been assigned to the First Family. And even though the man had been absent most of Jake’s life and their current relationship was awkward, Jake knew his father was so proud he was bursting. A wave of guilt washed over Jake; what the hell was wrong with him that he didn’t feel the same pride in himself? It was a big deal to be a Secret Service agent.

The wind moaned outside the window as if agreeing. A large gust sent snow spattering against the glass and a sharp crack plunged the view into darkness.

The porch light had broken.

Jake whirled from the window and bounded across the hallway, taking the winding steps two at a time. “Miss Fulton, are you okay?” As he ran through the living room his eyes scanned the kitchen. Not there. Alarm jolted through him. “Miss Fulton?” The back door was ajar.

He pushed it open and raced onto the deck. “Carolina!”

“What?” She stood on the deck. “What’s the problem?”

Heart hammering, he pulled her back inside and shut the door. He locked it and keyed in the alarm code on the pad next to the door. When it beeped, armed, he turned to her. “What were you doing out there?”

“The porch light blew out. I just poked my head out to make sure that’s all it was. I’m going to the pantry for raisins.”

His eyes bugged out as he watched her walk away. “You
know
you’re not supposed to do things like that.”

“Well. I’m on vacation, dammit. I’ll have raisins if I want to.” She seemed overly annoyed, and maybe a little guilty. He tried to unravel her reaction as she grabbed a bowl of pudding from the counter and stomped into the living room. Setting it down on the coffee table, she wrapped that hideous blanket around her shoulders and flopped onto the low-backed sofa.

She looked up, the stubborn look on her face melting like the snow that had blown onto the kitchen floor. “Sorry. It wasn’t my intention to scare you.”

Jake nodded. “That’s okay.”

He could’ve launched into the logistics of a targeted attempt on abducting her, and how luring her out of the secure region of the cabin would be
numero uno
on an abductor’s list, but before he could start his tirade, she cut him off with another apology.

“No, really. It was inconsiderate of me.” She shook her head. “I really do know better.” Ah, here was the proper perfect First Daughter. Damn if he didn’t prefer her mildly rebellious side.

“It’s okay. Let’s just try to follow the rules,” he said.

There were countless rules about security—for public appearances, private events, and family vacations—and at the top of the list and at the front of his mind sat the big ol’ rule about not fraternizing with the person he’d been tasked to protect. He damn well better take his own advice. But each and every time he caught a glimpse of her dark eyes, her luscious mouth . . . his hormones took over and most of his resolve was quickly shoved to the back of his mind. That resolve was still there, though. Still hanging on by a thread. He grasped for it.

Another gust of wind sprayed more snow onto the giant bank of windows in the living room, and he shuddered. It was freezing. Why did people enjoy this kind of weather? And he was stuck in it for three weeks on guard duty. And since Evans hadn’t made it, tonight it would be a double shift. Granted, the person he had to protect was easy to like. Most of the time. She was his job, and it wasn’t a bad one. If only he could quit torturing himself with fantasies about kissing her, it would be a great job. God, she was lovely. And intelligent. And she was talking to him. His head snapped up. “Pardon?”

“I was asking if you wanted to watch a movie,” she said. “Or are you too tense to enjoy yourself for a couple of hours?”

Yes. He was a ball of tension. “I’m fine. That would be nice, thanks.” Plus it would probably help the ice cold chill in his bones if he sat by the fire. Two steaming mugs sat on the counter and he picked them up. “Hot chocolate?”

She grinned and flipped on the TV. “Yes.”

“Smells good.” He walked to the sofa, but hesitated, staring at it. It looked very comfortable—some kind of tan-colored overstuffed microfiber; the kind of sofa a person sank into, and then laid down on. Preferably with someone else.

“You’re welcome. Have a seat.” She patted the cushion next to her.

Jake shot a glance around the living room, but the only other furniture was an uncomfortable-looking rocking chair adorned with lethal-looking antlers and a La-Z-Boy with a presidential seal embroidered into the head rest. No way in hell was he taking
that
chair. He sat beside her and extended a mug. “Here you are.”

She took it and held it up. “I’m drinking to peace and quiet. You?”

“The same,” he answered, clinking his mug to hers. Quiet, he would probably get. But, peace? No way.

They sipped their hot chocolates in silence for a moment before settling them on the low coffee table.

She fumbled with the large remote for the old TV. “I checked while you were unpacking and there’s an old movie on channel seven. But I’ve seen it a billion times and—”

The TV went blank and a second later, the room plunged into darkness. On instinct, Jake grabbed Carolina and covered her body with his own. “Don’t move,” he whispered, reaching for the gun strapped under his jacket. His eyes adjusted to the low glow of the fire and he waited. She breathed heavily beneath him.