The Bodyguard. Lena Diaz

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      Few people surprised Luke Dawson anymore, but Caroline Ashton had just given him a sucker punch. Was it possible she was afraid of her husband? If something...bad...was going on between them, Luke would have expected rumors in those gossip magazines. At the very least, he’d expect to hear something in the bars when he and his security friends bantered about their clients and the crazy things they sometimes did. But he’d never heard a whisper of anything bad about the Ashton couple. Not one.

      He had heard the exact opposite, that Richard Ashton III was practically a saint, in spite of his wife being a bit...needy, to put it kindly. She was said to be nervous, high-strung, but her husband was the epitome of tenderness whenever they were seen together. He was always at her side, seeing to her every whim.

      Luke studied her face. Her skin tone was even, her makeup accenting her natural beauty, not thick like women wore when trying to cover bruises. Long sleeves covered her arms—no clues there. But her legs, at least what he could see beneath her modest, below-the-knee skirt, were long and sleek, without the hint of a bump or a bruise. There was nothing about her appearance that made him think she had valid reasons to fear her husband.

      With everything he’d heard about the Ashtons, he should believe she’d come here, like so many women before her, planning a divorce and hoping to use the “abuse excuse” to take her husband for everything he was worth. That would make sense, except for one thing.

      The fear in her eyes is real. He’d bet his autographed Tom Glavine baseball on it.

      Still, just in case he was wrong, he proceeded as he would with any other client, probing for the facts.

      “Let me guess. You’re getting a divorce, and you want a bodyguard until the divorce is final.”

      Her eyes widened again. “I haven’t filed yet, but that’s my intention, yes. I’ve rented a house outside of town. I’m on my way there now. I just need someone to stay with me until things are...settled.”

      That admission sent a flash of disappointment through him. Maybe he was wrong about the fear in her eyes. Maybe she was just like those other women, the ones who would tarnish their husbands’ reputations with ugly lies so they could profit financially when their relationships went south.

      “You need a bodyguard right now?”

      “Yes.”

      He straightened away from the desk. Regardless of the kind of person she was, he couldn’t afford to turn away a paying client. He had too many unpaying ones to allow that luxury and keep his business afloat.

      As for going on assignment right now, that wasn’t a problem. He kept a go-bag packed at all times with his clothes and extra ammunition. Since Luke needed to keep his hands free while guarding a client, Mitch would load the bag into the car while Luke escorted the client outside. Standard operating procedure, and so routine he didn’t even need to remind Mitch, who had already jumped out of his chair and grabbed the go-bag. He stood waiting beside Luke’s desk with the strap over his shoulder.

      “We can leave right after you sign a contract and pay a retainer fee,” Luke said. “Do you want to take your car or mine?”

      Her cheeks flushed a light pink. “Mr. Dawson, I mean no disrespect, but you’re a bit...small. Is there someone else you could assign to help me?”

      He stared at her in stunned amazement. Mitch shook his head, obviously as confused as Luke was.

      Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Mrs. Ashton, in all my thirty years, no one else has ever called me small. I’m six foot three and weigh two hundred twenty pounds. I’m not bragging when I say most of that is muscle. It’s just a fact, a necessity of my occupation. I was a champion boxer in high school and college. I’m extensively trained in self-defense. I carry a concealed weapon, am a crack shot and I know just about everything there is to know about guarding people. I assure you, I’m more than capable of protecting you.”

      She politely cleared her throat, not looking all that impressed with his speech. “Have you ever met my husband?”

      “Not in person, no. But I’ve seen pictures of him.” He leaned back against the desk again and braced his hands on the edge while he waited for her explanation.

      “Richard is a very...large, strong, determined man. He can be...dangerous. He’s extremely... If he were to... I just...” She let out a deep sigh. “I need to know that you would be safe if...when...he comes looking for me.”

      This time, there could be no doubt that the fear in her voice, in her expression, was real. It was palpable, a living, breathing thing, constricting around her, ready to choke her into submission.

      She twisted her fingers together. The diamond ring glittering on her left hand sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights. The center stone had to be four carats, easy. It could have paid the rent on Luke’s office and his house for a full year, with money left over.

      But that wasn’t why he decided he had to convince her to hire him.

      He had to convince her to hire him because whether the threat against her was real or imagined, she believed it was real. But even more important than that, he’d never met any clients before who were more concerned about their bodyguard’s welfare than their own. A person like that deserved his protection, because he was one of the best. And regardless of who she was, she deserved something he sensed she hadn’t had in a long time: someone who would look after her, someone to take her seriously, someone who would be her ally.

      He waited until her haunted gaze lifted to his before answering.

      “Mrs. Ashton, your husband may be a tad taller than me, possibly even brawnier. But fighting isn’t all about size. It’s about training, experience, strategy. I don’t have the slightest doubt I can handle him in a fight...if it comes to that. The best strategy is to avoid a fight if at all possible. But if you hire me, I’ll guard you with my life. I will do everything I can to keep you safe. And I’ll make sure your husband never gets anywhere near you again. That’s a promise. And I never, ever break a promise.”

      Unshed tears brightened her eyes, inexplicably making Luke want to pull her close and hold her until the fear subsided and the shadows in her eyes disappeared.

      “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaking with obvious relief, her throat working as if she was struggling not to cry. “Thank you so much.”

      Chapter Three

      Caroline sat in her car in the circular driveway of the blue-and-white one-story cottage. She’d lived in a mansion for over five years. Before that, she’d lived with her parents about three hours from Savannah in the same house since the day she was born. But this plain, simple structure already felt like the home she’d never really had.

      Because she wouldn’t be sharing it with Richard.

      A tap on her car window made her start. But it wasn’t her husband’s angry visage glaring at her through the glass. It was the concerned face of Luke Dawson, who’d hopped out of the car as soon as she’d parked. She’d apparently zoned out, lost in her memories, and her fears, and forgot about him. She pressed the button and lowered the window.

      “Mrs. Ashton, we need to get inside. You’re sitting out in the open here.”

      “Of СКАЧАТЬ