Accidental Bodyguard. Sharon Hartley

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СКАЧАТЬ the rent this spectacular villa would command? She wouldn’t. Yeah, she was moving in to the pool house, but he’d seen the so-called cabanas in these villas. A small family would have room to spare.

      Clutching a slip of paper, Ms. Clark exited her car, punched a code into the alarm pad and the gate swung open. She turned and offered him another one of her brilliant smiles.

      “Thanks so much for your help, Mr. Richards.”

      “Let me help you carry in those groceries,” he offered.

      Her smile faded, replaced by wariness. In fact, she looked afraid of him. Why was that?

      “No, thanks,” she said. “I can manage.”

      “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

      “Absolutely. I’ve been enough trouble already.” She waved a graceful hand, the one holding the code, which had been scribbled on some sort of preprinted memo pad with a letterhead. He could make out the word Hospital in large letters, but nothing more.

      “I’m certain you have more important duties,” she continued.

      Jack shrugged, disappointed. Important duties? This place practically runs itself.

      His main function was to assess all possible security threats. Was Ms. Clark a threat to the security of Collins Island? Maybe. Something was off about her.

      He definitely needed to learn more.

      She looked at him with raised eyebrows, obviously expecting—no, wanting—him to drive away.

      He didn’t want to go, but waved and motored west into the sinking sun, back toward the security office.

      Lola had been right on about one thing. His day had been boring as plain white toast before Ms. Clark’s arrival, but now things were getting interesting. He had a project.

      Of course, he should keep a watchful eye on Collins Island’s newest resident—which shouldn’t be too hard since Ms. Clark was easy on the eyes.

      And it was, after all, his job.

      * * *

      CLAUDIA UNLOADED HER car and hid it in a garage at the rear of Mr. Santaluce’s estate. She quickly filled the refrigerator—empty but for three lonely Coronas—with perishable fruits, vegetables and dairy items. She’d run out of fresh produce before the trial date in four weeks, but that couldn’t be helped. She’d divide her meat into single portions and stuff the freezer later—after she’d locked herself in. At least she wouldn’t starve.

      She left the Glock on the counter within easy reach while she worked. She’d keep her weapon close at hand, always loaded and ready to fire. She’d taken a course and knew how to shoot. She could usually hit the target, if nowhere near the bull’s-eye.

      Closing the refrigerator for the last time, she took a deep breath.

      Dear Mr. Santaluce had provided detailed instructions on the alarm system, but first she needed to confirm all openings were locked or otherwise secure.

      She grabbed the gun and exited the cabana through the front door into twilight. A shiver caused her to hug her arms. Claudia inhaled deeply to calm herself, noting the cool, salty ocean breeze. Because of the wall, she didn’t have a view of the tantalizingly close Atlantic Ocean.

      But no one had a view of her, either.

      Maybe she could go out occasionally—late at night—and take a peek at the waves. Maybe not.

      Claudia walked the villa’s grounds looking for any weakness, a location where someone could breach the eight-foot concrete wall. The activity helped settle her, reminded her of patrolling the pediatric unit on the night shift when her patients, poor sick kids, were all sleeping. She missed her job. How long would it be before she could go back to work?

      She discovered there was only one gate, the one she’d driven through, and that it had an electronic lock and an alarm. Carlos’s henchmen would have to ram a truck through, making a ton of noise, definitely attracting the attention of that eagle-eyed security director. She doubted he missed anything.

      She shivered again, wondering at her reaction to Jackson Richards, who in no way resembled her dark-headed, dark-eyed ex. Still, she’d had the same visceral reaction to him she’d had to Carlos: the urge to rip off his clothes. Unfortunately, she’d acted on that impulse with Carlos. To the horror of her family, two weeks after that explosive first meeting she’d married the jerk.

      Within three months of the vows, she’d realized her deadly mistake.

      Deciding all was secure, Claudia moved back to the pool area and eyed the impressive three-story main house. She had a key, but had no intention of entering Mr. Santaluce’s winter home. Her benefactor didn’t plan a Miami visit until mid-March, and she’d be gone by then. She didn’t want her presence to put his family in danger.

      She pictured the angelic face of Rosa Santaluce, a sweet child who had suffered through way too many painful nights in the pediatric ICU. Her father had been there for most of them, suffering right along with his daughter.

      For the thousandth time, Claudia felt a rush of gratitude toward the man she believed had saved her life by offering this refuge. The irony was he was thanking her for saving his daughter’s life.

      Claudia paused by the well-lit pool, which reminded her of promotional brochures for an expensive resort with its landscaping, fountains and gurgling cascades. But that pool, right outside her front door, was also her biggest concern, since the island contractor came once a week to test the water and add the necessary chemicals. Santaluce had given her the schedule, so she could hunker down inside and make nary a peep so no one would know of her presence. Ditto with the lawn maintenance people.

      But otherwise she’d be left alone. She could sit out here to study and use the pool to exercise. She just couldn’t show her face beyond the wall.

      Inside the cabana, she repeated her patrol, checking each window, door and every possible entrance into the structure. When done, she armed the security system and stared at the blinking red light. If someone breached or she pushed the nearby bright yellow panic button, who would respond? The island security director? She hoped not. She was a woman who learned from her mistakes, and history had taught her she needed to avoid Jackson Richards as much as she avoided contact with Carlos or infectious bacteria.

      What was similar about two such different-looking men that caused her to become tongue-tied with desire? Had to be some trait hidden underneath their physical appearance, something she sensed intuitively and her treacherous body reacted to. Carlos was much smaller than Richards, but slick and sneaky as a fox. Richards was built more like a gladiator with his powerful shoulders and arms. While he worked with her car, she’d had the odd sensation he controlled a capacity for extreme violence.

      Just like Carlos.

      So she liked aggressive males? Dear God, what was wrong with her? She couldn’t be trusted around men. For some sicko reason, she was attracted to dangerous types, the ones your mother warns you to stay away from.

      Her stomach cramped at the thought of her mom. It’d been three days since she’d contacted any member of her family, and she knew they were sick wondering where she’d vanished to. She’d sent a text to her dad that first СКАЧАТЬ