Badlands. Jill Sorenson

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      CHAPTER TWO

      OWEN HAD NEVER WANTED to be Penny’s bodyguard.

      It wasn’t that he didn’t care about her. He’d give his life for her or Cruz in a heartbeat. He had self-defense training, rescue experience and an EMT certificate. After three years in prison, he’d learned how to read tensions in a crowd and anticipate violence. Even his entry-level position at Sierra National Park had been more dangerous than he’d anticipated.

      But private security wasn’t his field of interest, and he was a poor candidate for Penny, in particular. He’d had a crush on her for years. It was extremely difficult for him to focus on the surroundings instead of her. He found himself following her every move, studying her body language and facial expressions...imagining them together.

      In protective services, getting emotionally involved with a client was a bad idea. Engaging in sexual fantasies about her was downright stupid.

      She often tried to draw him into conversations with her, which didn’t help. He was already distracted by her beauty. He liked her voice, her animated gestures, her smile. Her personality was irresistible.

      And that kiss. Jesus.

      He could get fired for touching her. There were cameras all over the place. If Sandoval heard Owen was sniffing around his daughter, he’d cut him loose without the recommendation Owen desperately needed.

      Owen had developed a few coping strategies for keeping his cool around Penny. He avoided eye contact. He memorized her clothing details at a glance. When he had to look at her, he concentrated on her attire, not the body underneath. He treated her like an assignment, blanking his mind of their previous interactions.

      It didn’t always work, obviously. He was slipping.

      After Penny walked across the stage, Cruz tugged at Owen’s hand, pointing to a dark corner he wanted to explore. Owen might be biased, because he’d helped bring Cruz into this world, but the kid struck him as ridiculously cute. He had Penny’s honey-colored complexion and big brown eyes.

      Owen pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head. He couldn’t let the boy wander off. There was a fleet of security personnel at this event, so he didn’t have to monitor the audience, but he had to stay alert.

      A second later, an alarm sounded, indicating an emergency that required immediate evacuation.

      Penny.

      He tightened his grip on Cruz’s hand and strode toward the podium to retrieve her. She was already on her way backstage. As soon as she saw Cruz, she bent down and picked him up, her face tense.

      The voice in Owen’s ear told him what to do: find the closest exit. He was familiar with the layout of the building. A production assistant waved a group of people forward. Owen placed his hand on Penny’s shoulder as they skirted around stage and lighting equipment. He looked for Penny’s mother but didn’t see her.

      The alarm continued to go off in loud, intermittent blares. He couldn’t hear any more instructions from his boss. Pressing the button on the microphone at his collar, he checked in. “Moving toward the exit,” he said, reciting their code names and basic location.

      They spilled out the door into a pavilion on the side of the main building. Audience members were emerging from multiple exits. Most of them headed west, to the area behind the convention center. It offered access to the harbor, parking lot and adjoining hotels. The production assistant went the same direction with the rest of the employees.

      Owen didn’t follow. Penny would get recognized in the crowd, and his team was prepared for this kind of situation. They had a driver waiting in the loading area in front of the building, ready to whisk them to safety.

      “To your left,” he said, squeezing her upper arm. It was early evening, just before dark, with good visibility. There were some random people milling around, along with a couple of photographers in casual clothes.

      Owen hated the paparazzi even more than he hated those Freedom Party rejects who criticized Penny for having a baby out of wedlock. At the last political event she’d attended, some jerk had thrown a water balloon at her, soaking her blouse to near transparency. Of course the cameras had flashed before Owen could remove his jacket to cover her. The photos had been posted everywhere online.

      He’d heard that one of the sleazy gossip magazines had offered to pay top dollar for a “crotch shot.”

      Over his dead body.

      Owen СКАЧАТЬ