Authors: Janelle Denison
Leaning back in his chair. Nathan's expression took on a firm and determined look. "My daughter has become very independent recently, but I can promise you she'll cooperate with this sudden change of plans. Having a private bodyguard, especially during election time, isn't something new for her. She might be a bit surprised at the live-in arrangements, but she'll understand that it's absolutely necessary and non-negotiable."
Ben nodded in agreement. Until they discovered who the culprit was that had sent the intimidating letter, he'd be glued to Christine's side.
Ben had to admit that the job of protecting Christine's body certainly wouldn't be a hardship, not when she had the kind of shapely curves that made him wonder, and imagine, what she'd look like naked, with nothing but moonlight painting her supple, creamy-looking skin. Then there was all that silky blond hair the color of rich honey, those bright blue eyes that were always so full of life and carefree laughter when she was around him, and that sweet mouth of hers that could smile so guilessly, yet also managed to fuel some hot, erotic fantasies of how those soft, sensual lips might feel sliding against his skin.
The front door slammed shut, the sound jarring Ben out of his inappropriate and too arousing thoughts. His job was to protect Christine Delacroix, not seduce her, no matter how much she'd made her interest in him clear. And she had, each and every time they'd run into one another over the past months of Ben working for her father.
But no matter how much she flirted and teased, or how much the mutual attraction simmering between them tempted him, Ben was a professional. He could daydream and fantasize about Christine all he wanted, but he'd never touch.
Not only was she about to become a client—and he didn't mix business with pleasure—but she was so out of his league, in so many ways. Socially and financially she was at the top of the list. The only reason he was even a part of her affluent world was as a hired security agent. Other than that, there was nothing about her privileged lifestyle he could even begin to relate to.
"Speaking of the angel, here she is now," Nathan said fondly.
The sound of heels clicking on the marble entryway sounded seconds before Christine appeared in the dining room, dressed in a beige V-neck top, slim black jeans, and a pair of expensive-looking designer shoes that enhanced the length of her slender legs. Her dossier pegged her at five foot five, a good eight inches shorter than himself, but the confident way she carried herself, combined with those killer heels she always wore, made her appear much taller than she actually was. And they made her legs and her ass—his two favorite attributes on a woman—look sexier than hell.
But despite those four-inch heels strapped to her feet, there was a distinct and lively spring in her step that caused her loose hair to swirl around her shoulders. The brisk energy in her walk also made her small, firm breasts bounce with just enough motion to draw his gaze for a brief, appreciative moment before lifting back up to her lovely face once again.
He silently agreed with Nathan. Christine did look like an angel, but Ben's thoughts were anything but saintly or pure when it came to her.
As she entered the room, her gaze locked on her father first, since he was seated at the head of the table, and she headed toward Nathan with a sweet, genuinely-happy-to-see-you grin curving her lips.
"Hello. Daddy." Reaching his side, she leaned down and placed a kiss on his smooth-shaven cheek.
The warm, affectionate smile Nathan gave his daughter in return made him appear ten years younger than his true age. "Hi, sweetheart."
Ben pushed back his chair and stood up to greet Christine, finally bringing her attention to the fact that he was in the room, too. She glanced at him in startled surprise.
"You remember security agent Ben Cabrera, don't you?" Nathan asked his daughter.
Once her initial shock at seeing him there on a Sunday afternoon ebbed, she flashed him one of her effusive grins. "Of course I do. Hello, Ben."
He nodded politely in return. "Christine."
She rolled her eyes at all his formality, then waved a hand toward his chair, setting off a light, tinkling sound from the gold bangle bracelets circling her wrist. "Please, sit down. You don't need to stand when I enter the room. I'm hardly the Queen of England,'" she said, laughter in her voice. "And how many times have I told you to call me Christy?"
He settled back into his seat, doing his best to remain unaffected by that mischievous twinkle in her eyes that made her look too damned irresistible. "A few." He knew that her friends called her by the informal nickname, but for Ben, calling her Christy was too personal and intimate. Especially since he was about to become her private body guard for the next three weeks.
"Maybe someday you will." Her sexy wink and the playful lilt to her voice indicated that she wasn't done trying to sway him—no big shock there. Undoubtedly, she was used to getting her way. She also took great delight in provoking him, the minx.
She slid into the chair next to Nathan and across from where Ben sat, then glanced at her father. "Where's Mother? It's nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. Is she not joining us for lunch today?"
"She's still in her room, as far as I know." Nathan sighed, the sound barely concealing the frustration creeping into his tone. "According to Maggie, she woke up with a headache and claimed she wasn't feeling well this morning. Things haven't changed much since you moved out."
Ben shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Though he was used to people discussing their private lives in front of him, since he was supposed to be the invisible bodyguard, this intimate table discussion was more than he wanted, or needed, to know about this family's conflicts that centered around Audrey. Ben had no desire to get involved, and he figured if he was lucky, he wouldn't even have to see the woman for the next three weeks.
"I'm sorry." Christine went on as she shook her head, apparently used to her mother's personal issues, too. "I'll be sure to stop by her room to say hello before I leave."
Nathan nodded. "I'm sure she'd like that."
Christine tipped her head toward her father. The diamond hoop earrings in her lobes caught the light from the overhead chandelier and sparkled brilliantly. "You don't have to fib on my account. Daddy. She hasn't even come close to forgiving me for calling off the wedding and embarrassing her in front of her high-society friends. Never mind my humiliation. She tolerates me right now because I'm her daughter and she has no choice."
Nathan grimaced, but didn't refute her claim. "Fair enough."
An elderly woman with graying brown hair and kind hazel eyes entered the dining room from an adjoining doorway, a glass pitcher in her hand. Judging by the apron tied around her small waist, and the way she began pouring iced tea into their crystal glasses, Ben guessed that she was part of the household help.
"Hi, Maggie," Christine said in cheerful greeting. "How are you doing?"
The other woman beamed at her as she finished filling Ben's glass with tea, then moved on to Nathan's. "Just wonderful, Sweet Pea. When your father mentioned that you were going to be here for lunch today, I decided to make one of your favorite meals."
Christine thought for a quick moment, that infectious gleam sparking to life in her eyes again. "You made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"
Maggie laughed. "You always did love those as a little girl, didn't you?"
She gave Maggie an impish grin. "Still do, actually."
Amusement softened Maggie's features. "I sure do miss having you here at the house every day," she said, an unmistakable hint of melancholy in her voice. "As for lunch, I made wild mushroom ravioli with sweet vermouth and cream sauce. And for dessert, bread pudding with my special apricot sauce."
"Mmmm, you spoil me." The hunger and anticipation reflecting across Christine's face made for an arousing combination. "I can't wait."
Once Maggie retreated to the kitchen, Christine reached for the sugar bowl, dropped a few of the crystallized cubes into her tea, and met Ben's gaze from across the table as she stirred her drink. "I didn't realize that lunch on a Sunday afternoon was such a security risk," she teased good-naturedly. "Should I be concerned that you're here?"
It was clear that Christine was just kidding around and making light of his presence, but Ben wasn't quite sure how Nathan wanted to handle telling his daughter of his purpose for being there. So, he glanced at the other man, giving him the opportunity to handle the situation, and answer the question.
Nathan cleared his throat. "Actually, Ben's here at my personal request."
"Oh." Christine picked up her napkin, unfolded the piece of expensive cloth, and placed it on her lap.
Ben immediately followed her lead and did the same thing.
"Are you going somewhere after lunch that requires security?" she asked her father curiously.
Before Nathan could launch into an explanation, Maggie arrived with three salads and set one of the plates in front of Ben. "Thank you, ma'am," he said automatically, and glanced up as the older woman finished serving Nathan and Christine.
A sassy grin quirked one corner of Christine's mouth, and she lifted a perfectly arched brow in amusement. "-Ma'am?" she mouthed to him, as if she couldn't believe he'd used such a formal expression.
She was toying with him. Again. Because she could and obviously enjoyed the seductive game that tempted him to play along. God, if she was anyone else, he'd be flirting right back and wouldn't hesitate to act on the undeniable attraction between them. Wouldn't hesitate to drag her off to some dark, secluded spot so he could kiss her, slow and deep, and slake all the pent-up lust she'd been stirring in him over the past few months. If she was anyone else, he would have had her by now, in all the shockingly erotic ways he'd imagined for much too long.
Unfortunately, she wasn't anything like the easy, forgettable women he met at Nick's Sport Bar or The Electric Blue. A woman he could enjoy for a few weeks until he had his fill, then leave her behind. No, this beautiful, sensual woman came with too many complications, and he wasn't about to jeopardize his personal and working relationship with Nathan Delacroix by taking advantage of his daughter's interest. No matter how badly his sorely neglected libido wished otherwise.
So, instead, he had to sit there and struggle to remain completely unaffected when she knew damn well that she was causing him all kinds of discomfort. She was just waiting for him to react to her outrageous behavior, and when he didn't rise to the challenge, she finally glanced away.
He watched carefully as she ran her fingers across the three forks lined up on the left-hand side of her salad plate, and waited for her to choose the correct utensil. When she picked up the fork on the inside closest to her dish, he subtly copied her move.
She didn't start in on her salad right away. Instead, she held her fork just above her plate as she turned her attention to her father. "So, tell me, what's going on? Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine, sweetheart," Nathan said reassuringly as he took a drink of his tea. "But with three weeks left until the election, I figured it never hurts to have extra security around."
She nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more."
Just as Ben was about to dig into his salad, Christine casually set her fork back down on the table and traded it for the one on the far left. Frowning in confusion, he placed his own utensil back where it had been and made the mistake of lifting his gaze to hers. She gave him a cute little gotcha smirk and winked at him, telling him without words that she was so on to his ploy.
The woman was something else, and he had to tamp the unexpected urge to laugh at being caught in the act. That bit of humor she evoked surprised him, because it had been much too long since a woman had amused him as much as Christine did. If anything, he knew they could at least be friends during the next few weeks.
Christine continued the conversation with her father without missing a beat. "There are so many fanatics and extremists out there, especially with the whole gentrification issue at stake, and your safety is definitely a priority."
Nathan ate a bite of his salad. "Actually, this is about your safety for the next few weeks, and that's why Ben is here."
Upon learning who her father had hired for her, Christine met Ben's gaze, her blue eyes bright with delighted pleasure and satisfaction, the kind that spelled pure, seductive trouble for Ben. "You're my bodyguard?"
"Yes, ma'am," Ben drawled, and gave her a good-ol'-boy grin before digging into his salad again.
She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. "So, during the next few weeks, when I'm out at a public function, Ben will be with me?" Christine asked her father, to confirm exactly what to expect from Ben's services.
Finished with his salad, Nathan set his fork on his plate and looked at his daughter, his expression uncompromising, showing Ben the resolute opponent that Delacroix had the ability to be. "Actually, this security detail is a bit different. I've hired Ben to be your bodyguard twenty-four/seven, until the election is over. Hell be by your side at all times, day and night, which means he'll be living with you and staying in your guest room at your place."
Christine's jaw dropped open, then snapped shut again. For the first time since arriving, she was clearly shocked and speechless at her father's unpredicted bombshell and it took her a few moments to speak.
Finally, she glanced at Ben, then back to her father. "Is having Ben live with me really necessary?"
Nathan reached over to his daughter and clasped his larger hand over hers on the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know it seems extreme, but right now, it's absolutely necessary."
"Why?" Christine's worried gaze searched her father's for answers. "What's going on that I'd need that kind of stringent, round-the-clock protection?"
Nathan moved his hand back as Maggie came through the dining room and cleared their salad plates. As if sensing the serious tone to the conversation, the other woman quickly and efficiently placed their main entree dishes in front of each of them, then retreated back to the kitchen.