Accidental Bodyguard. Sharon Hartley

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СКАЧАТЬ same thing with Jackson Richards. She needed him on her side, to be her friend. She nibbled her bottom lip, the phrase friends with benefits springing into her head. What she wanted from this hunk of a gladiator was definitely not friendship.

      What would it be like to peel off this guy’s clothing, see what that magnificent body looked like au naturel? She crossed her arms in front of her chest so she’d keep her hands to herself. What is wrong with me?

      She needed to get this man out of her sight before she reached out to test the strength of his impressive biceps with a quick squeeze. From the looks of those shoulders, she’d bet he could lift her with one arm. And once she touched him, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

      “Enjoy the happy hour tonight,” she said, in a voice meant to encourage him to leave, yet not sound too rude. She needed this ally. “And thanks again for coming to my rescue.”

      “You’re sure you can’t come?” he asked.

      He was halfway out the door. He needed to go. Please go.

      “I’ve got to study,” she said.

      “What are you studying?”

      She sighed. Me and my big mouth. “For the physician’s assistant exam.” She gripped the doorknob, signaling she meant to shut it, shut him out, that she wanted him to leave.

      “You’ll need to take a break at some point.”

      “But I shouldn’t drink booze on that break. Thanks again, Mr. Richards, but I need to get back to it.”

      Still he hesitated, glancing back inside the cabana. “Are you proficient with that Glock?” he asked.

      The quick change in subject caught her off guard, making her blurt out the truth. “I can pull the trigger, but don’t usually hit where I want.”

      His gaze refocused on her. His eyes were insanely intense. Did this man know how he affected her? Probably. Likely all women reacted to him the same way. How could any heterosexual female help herself? She took a deep breath, feeling her resolve slip away.

      “Practice makes perfect,” he murmured.

      Remembering his gun when he’d arrived at the door, she wanted to ask if he was an expert shot. Of course he was. He was the security chief. Could he teach her how to hit her targets? Yeah, and what else could he show her?

      She felt a delicious pull low in her belly, and opened her mouth to ask him to stay and begin a few lessons, but swallowed the words. Get a grip, Claudia. Remember—you can’t trust anyone.

      “See you around,” Richards said and finally, thankfully moved outside.

      Claudia closed the door and leaned against it. She closed her eyes, disgusted with herself. She was practically panting.

      She waited until Richards had closed the gate and driven away on his cart, pulled off her shorts and dived into the pool. The blast of water was better than a cold shower.

      * * *

      BACK IN THE security office, Jack replayed his encounter with Louise Clark in his head. He’d been blown away by the fact that she didn’t want P.J. fired, figuring she’d want the kid’s balls nailed to the wall. Yet he was madder about the security breach than she was. He was considering cutting the kid a break, but could never trust him again. He’d feel compelled to check the security feed and the timing each time P.J. serviced the pools.

      So Louise owned a gun and, from what she said, had obviously done some target practice. Was shooting a hobby or did she need to be proficient because of some threat? And who were these mysterious people who didn’t think she was forgiving? Why was she used to cleaning up puke? She was studying to be a PA, so maybe she was a nurse.

      Damned perplexing. But he loved to solve a good riddle. Besides, what else did he have to do?

      Ike Gamble, one of the guards on roving duty today, motored to a stop out front on his electric cart. The other, Rafael Garcia, arrived a minute later on his. They’d completed a circuit and were taking their afternoon break. The two entered the office animatedly discussing the excitement at Villa Alma.

      “Good job today, guys,” Jack told them. “I appreciate how fast you responded.”

      “Man, what a rush,” Rafael said in his slight accent. He was a new hire, a Hispanic man in his thirties carrying a few extra pounds. “That’s the first time I ever responded to an alarm.”

      “And hopefully the last,” Jack said.

      “Everything all right inside Villa Alma?” Ike asked.

      “Yeah, false alarm. The new tenant pushed the panic button by mistake.”

      Ike nodded. “That happens every so often.”

      “Sure broke up the day,” Rafael said. “I wish it happened more often.”

      “You wouldn’t say that if someone had been inside bleeding or dead,” Jack said. Yet he’d once felt the way Rafael did. As a deputy sheriff in Marion County, he’d craved action like a junkie craves smack. But Rafael had no military or police experience. All he knew was the boredom of Collins Island. He didn’t understand how in a heartbeat a thrill could turn tragic.

      The phone rang, and Jack reached to answer. “Break is over,” he told the guards.

      “Okay, boss,” Rafael said, hiking up his belt, his hand moving protectively over the Taser as if he was on his way to the OK Corral.

      Jack grinned. “Be careful out there.”

      Ike rolled his eyes as he left the office.

      “Security,” Jack barked into the phone.

      “This is Lola,” she said needlessly in her distinctive voice. “I’m calling to remind you about the all-hands meeting tomorrow morning.”

      “I forgot about that.”

      “Conveniently, as usual. Thus the call. You know how I look out for you, Jack.”

      “Can I skip it this time? Those meetings are nothing but a time suck.”

      “Yet required for all available operatives. You’re expected at 9:00 a.m.”

      “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there,” Jack grumbled. He’d have to take the 8:00 a.m. ferry to make the meeting on time.

      “I also wanted to let you know the facial recognition program didn’t get a hit on Louise Clark.”

      “Too bad.” Jack suppressed a stab of disappointment. Damn. Was he craving action now, too? “Well, at least she’s not a known criminal.”

      “She’s not in any law enforcement database we have access to,” Lola said, “so she’s never been arrested.”

      “Good to know. Thanks, Lola.”

      “So what are you going to do about her?”

      “I’m not sure.”

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