The 9-Month Bodyguard. Cindy Dees

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СКАЧАТЬ said than done. Those lightning fast reflexes, the total lack of hesitation to kill, were the reason he was still alive and kicking. Lecturing himself about the rules of engagement for this particular type of jungle, he managed to cross the dance floor without causing anyone bodily harm.

      Austin touched Harold Rothchild lightly on the shoulder. The older man spun around, startled. Hmm. The Rothchild patriarch was plenty edgy. Not to mention he was hiring ridiculously overqualified bodyguards for his kids. What was going on? The dossier hadn’t said anything about why the mogul suddenly wanted someone like Dearing—who specialized in guarding heads of State—watching out for his daughter.

      “You must be Captain Dearing. Your commander described you to a tee, I must say.”

      At least Rothchild sounded relaxed enough. “Call me Austin, sir. I’m not on the Army’s clock at the moment.”

      Rothchild snorted. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m the guy who wrote your first paycheck. It has already been wired into the Singapore bank account you gave my secretary.”

      Austin nodded, annoyed. Why did men like this think that men like him gave a damn about money? Just because Rothchild worshipped at the altar of the almighty dollar didn’t mean everyone did.

      He schooled himself to patience. Growing up poor had probably made him more cynical than most. But his family had gotten by. And he and his brothers had all turned out fine. They were all hardworking, law-abiding citizens who enjoyed their work. Sure, he could make more money as a civilian bodyguard—a lot more than his Army pay—but that wasn’t remotely why he did his job. He loved his work.

      Rothchild bellowed, “Silver, come over here. There’s someone I want you to meet,”

      A fist in his gut couldn’t have knocked the wind out of Austin more thoroughly than his first glimpse of Silver Rothchild. Wow. He couldn’t help it; he stared as the pop star made her way to them. Her face, familiar to him from newsstands around the world, wasn’t the most beautiful he’d ever seen, although she was genuinely pretty. She didn’t have the best body he’d ever seen—she was too petite to achieve beauty queen stature—but she was in great shape and shaped great, not to mention he didn’t spot a hint of silicone or surgery. She was one of those rare women with innate sexual charisma, a woman whom men couldn’t peel their gaze away from and didn’t want to. A genuine blond bombshell.

      It was, of course, the reason she’d been such a sensation on the pop music scene. Belatedly, it occurred to him that she was actually wearing a perfectly modest dress, not showing a hint of cleavage, nor an inch of extra thigh. Her signature platinum blond hair was twisted up in a clip of some kind behind her head, and her makeup was understated.

      Those silver-blue bedroom eyes of hers penetrated right through him as she looked up at him politely. She held out a perfectly manicured hand. “Hi, I’m Silver. It’s nice to meet you.” Her voice was honey sweet, hinting at the million-dollar sound that had made her famous.

      Suppressing an urge to stammer, he replied, “Austin Dearing, Miss Rothchild.”

      One graceful brow arched at his shift of her name into the formal. She glanced over at her father questioningly.

      “This, my dear, is your other birthday present.”

      Silver’s startled gaze shot back to his. Chagrin abruptly warmed his cheeks. He was a birthday present? An elite-trained, highly-decorated war hero who led men into the jaws of death on a routine basis? Harold made him sound like a damned trained monkey!

      His brows slammed together. Favor or not, General Sarkin could take this job and shove it. He wasn’t anybody’s pet.

      Silver murmured in an appalled undertone, “What are you up to, Daddy?”

      “Austin is a bodyguard.”

      The rosy blush in Silver’s porcelain face drained away, lending a faintly gray cast to her complexion. Austin frowned, his internal alarm system exploding to life. He was missing something, here. Silver Rothchild was deathly afraid of something. Or someone. His protective instincts roared to the fore, jolting his every sense onto high alert. He abruptly didn’t like the press of people around her, didn’t like how exposed she was up on this raised dais above the crowd. He needed to be in front of her, between her and the balcony to his left that was a perfect perch for a sniper.

      She choked out, “I already have a bodyguard, Father.”

      “And he’s an idiot. Captain Dearing comes highly recommended by a friend of mine. He’s the best. After Candace…”

      Rothchild trailed off. Silver closed her eyes in pain, obviously understanding her father’s veiled reference. Austin’s brain kicked into overdrive. Was there more to the Candace Rothchild murder investigation than met the eye? Was the killer targeting other members of the Rothchild family? That would certainly explain daddy bringing in a high-powered bodyguard to protect his most famous child.

      Silver seemed to gather herself together. She said more strongly, “I appreciate your concern, Dad, but I don’t need another bodyguard. I’m perfectly safe with the one I have.”

      “What about that incident last week?”

      “Brakes fail on cars. And Las Vegas is as flat as a pancake. I coasted to a perfectly safe stop.”

      “You were supposed to drive up into the mountains that day. What if your brakes had failed then?”

      “Well, I didn’t go up into the mountains and everything was fine.”

      Austin had to give the girl credit. Her father was a big, intimidating guy, and she was showing pluck to stand her ground like this. Brake failure, huh? In his experience, the brakes on any reasonably well-maintained vehicle never, ever failed of their own volition.

      Rothchild turned to him. “Ignore her. She needs a decent bodyguard, and I’m signing your paycheck.”

      Austin glanced over at the singer, who looked more than irritated. For just a second, her wonderfully expressive eyes looked…haunted. What in the hell was going on that had a wild woman like her looking like that? No doubt about it. She put his protective instincts on full combat alert.

      He turned back to her father and nodded firmly. “I’ll protect her with my life, sir.”

      “But—” Silver began.

      Harold cut her off. “No buts. Austin Dearing is your bodyguard now. Consider him part of our earlier deal.”

      Whatever that deal was, Silver subsided immediately. But this time, resentment simmered at the back of her transparent gaze. Didn’t like being pushed around by daddy dearest. But she was thirty years old according to the banner over her head. She could tell the guy to go to hell if he was that big a pain.

      Rothchild gestured at one of the waiters passing by. “Take Mr. Dearing’s bag. Check him into the New Yorker Villa and see to it his gear gets up there.” Rothchild glanced over at Austin. “As of now, you’re on duty.”

      For his part, Austin nodded and kept his thoughts to himself. Good thing he’d slept most of the way back from Afghanistan on the various flights that brought him here. Jetlag going east to west wasn’t that bad, but he was twelve time zones out of sync at the moment. Of course, Harry Rothchild wasn’t in the business of caring about anyone’s СКАЧАТЬ