The Bodyguard. Sheryl Lynn
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Название: The Bodyguard
Автор: Sheryl Lynn
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
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Frankie tossed him a look askance. “I’m surprised they don’t have you sleeping in front of the door.”
He realized her dilemma: she didn’t know which of the cabins housed her sister. He shoved his cold hands in his pockets. “I’ve thought about it, Miss Forrest. If you want to wake up your sister I won’t stop you. That is, if you can assure me you aren’t carrying a weapon.”
The pinkish light agreed with her, turning her eyes large and dark and softening the lines of her face. She looked like a creature stepped from the forest who would soon disappear back into the trees. “I don’t have a weapon.”
“I better frisk you to make sure.”
She put up her fists. “Touch me and die, McKennon.”
Dying might be a fair price to pay to find out what she had underneath her clothes. Cold seeped through his jeans. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to muster some heat. “I’m kidding. Go ahead.”
Even in the darkness, he saw her thoughtful frown. “Uh, maybe I shouldn’t startle Julius. Why don’t you knock for me so he knows it’s okay.”
She was good, he thought admiringly. “You won’t startle him. He sleeps heavy. You won’t even wake him up.”
She threw up her hands and huffed loudly. White plumes marked her breath. “Which cabin are they in?”
“You don’t know?”
She growled. He bit back a laugh.
“I don’t and you do. So tell me.”
He thought his natural bent toward devilment had died with Nina, but orneriness flexed its rusty wings. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell you. But, you have to kiss me first.” That he said such a thing aloud shocked him. He swallowed laughter.
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”
He shrugged. “You’ve got a twenty-five-percent chance of choosing the right cabin on the first shot. Or, you can go back to the lodge and see if the night clerk will give you the cabin number. Or, you can wait until your sister is awake.” He smiled. “Or, you can kiss me.” She wouldn’t, he knew, but he liked the flashing fire seeming to shoot from her every pore. Any second now she’d get the joke and laugh. Making her laugh seemed a small step toward easing some of the pain he’d inadvertently caused her.
Glaring daggers in his direction, she took a step toward the nearest cabin. Years of training had taught him to control his body language. If she hoped for a clue she wouldn’t get it from him. She abruptly switched direction. He tensed instinctively, prepared for battle. She grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands, jerked him forward and kissed him fully on the mouth.
Chapter Three
Frankie meant to give McKennon a noisy smack on the lips. Then she would shove him and hope he slipped on the icy gravel and fell on his butt so he would end up looking like the big jerk he actually was. Then she’d laugh in his face and prove his idiotic kidding around had absolutely no effect on her whatsoever.
That’s what she’d meant—
Electricity sparked from his lips to hers, melding her to his heat. He wrapped both arms around her shoulders and hugged her to his chest. Breath deserted her; thought deserted her. She clung to his shirtfront as if she drowned and only he could save her. Mingled aromas of soap and shaving cream and healthy male swirled through her brain like an intoxicating drug. He smelled so good. His lips were so supple, so warm. When he slid a hand through her hair and grasped the back of her head in a possessive hold, she became lost in the erotic feeling of his fingers against her scalp.
This kiss superseded all other kisses in her life. She’d kissed him a thousand times in her dreams, but this was better. McKennon touched her soul. She parted her lips and greedily accepted the thrust of his tongue. Noises slipped away one by one, the rustle of her jacket, their boots crunching gravel, the faraway whisper of a breeze through the pines, until all she could hear was her pounding heart. She kissed and kissed him, tasting, testing, no longer present, but lost in her dreams, submersed in the solidity of his big body, entrapped and enthralled by the power of his embrace.
When he broke the kiss, a cry rose in her throat. A cry of protest, of yearning. Her eyelids flew open, and she stared into his eyes. They were black, fathomless, smoldering. His hot breath fanned her cheeks.
Dizzy now, she tried hard to muster outrage. Unable to do that, she settled for indignation, but even that wan emotion failed her.
He slid his hand from beneath her hair. Released from his hold, if not from his spell, she dropped her hands from his shirt. In her head she saw herself flinging her hair in a haughty gesture and sniffing in disgust; she swiped her mouth; she laughed in his face.
In her head.
In reality she backed a step and lowered her face. Her cheeks burned, but she shivered inside the parka. A single kiss had never set her on fire before. She’d never lost her head like that. Bemused and troubled, she peered warily at him.
“Cabin B,” he said, and pointed. His voice sounded suspiciously gruff.
Oh, yeah, Penny, she thought. She took a step in the direction he indicated and paused. She half expected him to take her arm, to stop her and kiss her again. He jammed his hands in his jeans pockets and hunched his shoulders. Annoyance tweaked her.
Resisting the urge to look over her shoulder at him, she strode determinedly to Cabin B. She knocked softly on the door, then listened. She raised her hand to knock again, but hesitated. All night long she’d rehearsed conversations with her sister. Angry words, loving words, forgiving words and spiteful words. She doubted now that anything she said could change the situation.
Forget speeches and arguments, then. She would assure Penny that no matter what happened they were still sisters, but she’d never be able to accept Julius. Then she’d say goodbye.
She knocked a rapid tatoo Penny should recognize from the countless mornings Frankie had awakened her to get ready for school. After a few seconds she knocked again. The knocks echoed behind her in a fading swirl.
“No answer?” McKennon asked.
His nearness startled her. She hadn’t heard his approach.
“Something’s wrong,” Frankie said. She knocked harder. Her cold knuckles ached with every blow.
“She’s probably been up most of the night.”
She flinched. No way, no how, did she want a picture in her head of her baby sister and that creep Julius having sex. “She’s a college student. Or was. She doesn’t need sleep. There’s something wrong.”
He lifted his gaze to the star-studded sky. “Even if I could open the door, which I can’t, I wouldn’t. Let them sleep.”
“She has to talk to me.” She pounded on the door with her fist, ignoring McKennon’s whispered warnings about disturbing the other СКАЧАТЬ