Special Ops Bodyguard. Beth Cornelison

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Henry Kelley’s jaw tightened, but he made no reply.

      Cole pulled an expression of exasperation and disgust. “I don’t need this tonight.” With a shake of his head, he turned to leave.

      “Cole, wait!” The senator took a step, as if to pursue his son, but the rancher paused without facing his father.

      “Something has happened that you should know about.” Hank Kelley’s voice rumbled low and unsteady.

      Cole’s shoulders drooped, and he rubbed his temple. “What, another of your bimbos crawl out from under a rock claiming to be carrying your child?”

      “No, it’s … worse.” The senator sounded truly grieved, seriously upset.

      Gage arched an eyebrow and perked his ears. When Dylan Kelley had hired him to guard the senator, he’d been vague about the situation, saying only that he feared his father was in danger and needed to lie low for a while. Gage had assumed his guard duty was directly related to Hank Kelley’s numerous affairs, the women he’d betrayed, the constituents and backers he’d angered with his poor choices. But the gravity of his voice said there was much more at play.

      Across the room, Cole huffed loudly, rolled his shoulders, and sent his father a dark glare. “To be honest, Senator,” he said, grating out the title like a foul word, “I’m about sick to death of hearing about the trouble your selfishness has caused our family. I have to leave the ranch before sunup tomorrow for the roundup. So, as much fun as this reunion has been, I’m done for tonight. You can dump your latest screwup on me when I get back next week.”

      With that, Cole stormed out.

      The senator stared after his son with a forlorn expression, then cut an embarrassed glance to Gage. “I’m sorry about that. Obviously I’m not on the best of terms with my son. Haven’t been for some time.”

      Gage cleared his throat and adjusted his stance. “With all due respect, sir, your personal business with your son only concerns me if he’s a threat to your well-being. We’ve been hired to protect you, so if you think your son—”

      “Good God, no! Cole might hate me—with good reason—but he’s not out to hurt me! He’s not part of—” The senator stopped abruptly, as if catching himself before he said too much.

      Bart stepped forward, flanking the older man’s other side. “Not part of what, sir?”

      Hank shook his head and busied himself with collecting the newspaper spread on the chair beside him. “Never mind.”

      “Sir, if we are going to protect you, we need to know what we may be up against.” Gage narrowed a hard look on the senator. “You need to tell us who and what threats have been made against you, what trouble you’ve had.”

      Hank dropped into the chair and closed his eyes. When he said nothing for several seconds, Bart prodded, “Sir?”

      “It’s … a private matter.”

      Bart shot Gage a look and rolled his eyes. While Gage shared the sentiment, he kept his mouth firmly set and his posture rigid. Professional. Detached. His job was to protect Senator Henry Kelley, not to like him. The senator, in fact, with his numerous affairs and blatant disregard for his family, confirmed Gage’s belief that most people were rotten at the core. The best one could do in life was to guard your own interests and not grow too attached to anyone. That way, when inevitable disappointments came, the wounds didn’t dig as deep.

      Gage moved to the edge of the suede couch and sat across from the older man. “Senator, anything you tell us is strictly confidential. But you need to level with us if we are going to keep you safe.”

      Hank tapped a finger on the arm of the Western-style armchair and twisted his mouth. “Fine. Let’s just say, I have … political enemies who … are pressuring me. I believe they could use physical threats to make their point and try to win my cooperation.”

      “Are these threats in relation to the women claiming to have had relationships with you?” Gage asked.

      Hank’s face reddened a shade, and he cut a side glance to Gage. “Not directly.”

      Gage suppressed the surge of impatience that spiked his pulse when the senator continued to equivocate. The man’s flushed skin told Gage he was lying but also called to mind Kate Rogers’s tendency to blush. What had been sexy and intriguing on the pretty waitress was an irritating sign of noncooperation with the senator.

      Leaning toward the senator, Gage flipped up his palm in inquiry. “Can you be more specific?”

      Hank sighed. “Look, Gage, I know you’re just trying to do your job, but … I didn’t hire you. Dylan did. I’m not happy with the idea of being here. It smacks of hiding from the press and the women who’ve come forward. I hate looking like a coward. I have important matters to tend to—both personal and business—but for reasons I don’t care to elaborate on, I’m here. Do your babysitting thing, if you must—”

      Gage ground his back teeth at the man’s derogatory characterization of his job.

      “—since that’s what you’re being paid to do, but I’d prefer to keep my private concerns private. No offense intended.”

      Hank raised a highball glass to lips, and while the senator drank, Gage met Bart’s eyes. The subtle flicker of impatience and disgust in his colleague’s expression mirrored the frustration bubbling inside Gage—a feeling he determinedly quashed. Emotions had no place in his line of work. He simply needed to do his job.

      As Gage shoved to his feet, ready to leave the protection of the senator in Bart’s hands until his shift started in the morning, Hank released a weary sigh and muttered, “They kidnapped my daughter.”

      Gage hesitated, not certain he’d heard correctly, then lowered himself back onto the suede couch. “Excuse me?”

      Bart circled the chair where the senator sat and settled next to Gage.

      “My daughter, Lana, was kidnapped a couple of days ago.” His tone was hushed, defeated. “Her kidnappers called me and made it clear her release was contingent upon my cooperation with their demands.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m being blackmailed.”

      Gage battled down the kick in his pulse. Now they were getting somewhere. “Have you notified the authorities?”

      The senator’s gaze darted up to his. “No. And neither can you. I was warned not to contact the police or the FBI if I wanted Lana to live.”

      “A common enough threat, but the FBI needs to—”

      “No!” The senator’s eyes flashed. “This is my problem, and we do things my way. Period. It’s imperative that I not give these people reason to retaliate.”

      “What people?” Bart asked.

      Hank’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I … can’t tell you. It’s complicated.”

      “If your daughter’s life is at stake—”

      “I have my own resources. I’m looking into ways to facilitate a rescue but … СКАЧАТЬ