Bodyguard Pursuit (2 page)

“Are you okay, Saria? You looked anxious before when Henry arrived.” Dripping water, Luke, Tyler’s youngest brother, eased in beside her in his blue swim trunks. He shook his dark head and sent drops flying. “The lovebirds are finally chilling. You should too.”

“I would if I weren’t so worried about Ben. It’s not easy being separated from someone when you’ve come to rely on them so solidly.”

“The best thing to do is focus on someone or something else for a change.” Luke draped a wet arm around her shoulders. “How about a game of cards? You can focus on trying to beat me.”

“The only card game I know is snap. Not much focus needed there.”

“Then I’ll teach you how to play poker. Mum and Gabriella loved the game. We often play it in memory of them.” Two years ago, his mother and sister-in-law had passed away in a terrible car accident. That had left Tyler’s eldest brother raising his young son alone. The Whitehall family had experienced so much loss of late.

“I’d like that. Although, I have to warn you, Ben tried to teach me how to play. He failed miserably, or I did in learning, however you want to look at it.” It hadn’t helped Ben had always sat so close when he’d been teaching her. Her focus had veered toward him and not the game. Her bodyguard had deep blue eyes she wanted to drown in and a presence of strength that engrossed her.

“We’ll find Dylan, and he can join us. He’s a great teacher.” Luke smiled with big dimples. “He also thinks he’s the best at poker, and I love taking him down.”

“I’m all for some sibling rivalry.” She rolled her shoulders and tried to relax. Lydia was lucky to have such a wonderful new family.

Although they were now hers too.

What her twin gained, so did she.

“Show me the way, Luke. It’s time to unwind.”

* * * *

Ben shoved his black shirtsleeves to his elbows as he strode into the safe house bedroom he’d shared with Saria for the past two months. The cleaners had stripped the queen-sized bed and the last of her belongings, now boxed, sat on the plush gray-carpeted floor next to his gear.

Saria’s little touches around the room, from the vase of white lilies that graced the nightstand to her favorite vanilla and strawberry scented candles, had infused this space with such sweet elegance. Now, all gone, tossed out with the rubbish or packed away. Her nursing journals no longer lay scattered across the corner desk she’d called her own for the past year.

After shutting the security-latched window the cleaner had left open, he drew the lacy net curtains across, then slid her box on top of his and carried it down the hallway. At the front door with its crooked brass number ten, the ghostlike scent of home baking tickled his nose. If Saria hadn’t been studying for her nursing finals, she’d had her nose buried in a recipe book. Every day she’d cooked, from cakes and cookies to the meals they’d eaten. Caring for others relaxed her, had taken her mind off her fears. None of his foster parents ever cared for him the way she had. Hell, he missed her—a totally unacceptable emotion in his job.

Down the stone path he trudged, then popped the trunk of his Jaguar and arranged their boxes inside. He lugged his cell phone from his pocket and skimmed the buttons. The ship’s sat phone number, emblazoned in his mind as well as programmed into his speed dial, taunted him. Saria had left two days ago, and his fingers twitched to call her. Hearing her sweet voice would ease some of his concerns. Had her fears subsided now she had Lydia back? He hoped so. He longed to see her stand strong and take back the courage and strength she’d lost during the time Lydia had gone through re-identification.

Unable to hold off any longer, he pressed the speed dial number then rapped one foot on the concrete driveway within the quiet Auckland city suburb.

“Tyler Whitehall.”

“It’s Ben.” He stopped rapping as one of his best mate’s voices flowed down the line.

“Hey, I just hung up from Brigs and was about to call you. Sorry about the short notice, but Lydia and I are getting hitched in Fiji, and I need you and Brigs there. Do you feel up to a trip to Resort Island?”

He’d never seen a man more dedicated to the woman he loved. Tyler had even taken bullets for Lydia and nearly died. He’d always have his respect and admiration. “Absolutely. How long do I have to get there?”

The girls’ case, almost tidied away, made his answer an easy one.

“It only takes three days to organize a license with the Fijian authorities, so the ceremony will be at the end of the week. Brigs has already booked his seat and is holding one for you on the same flight. He sorted it all out online while we chatted. The plane leaves at midnight and arrives at Nadi at three tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll call and confirm the seat.” Now he’d have the chance to see Saria in person, to make certain she was well. A touch of the tight pressure in his chest eased. He missed her, and as a bodyguard shouldn’t miss his client. He’d have to get his wayward emotions under control before he arrived.

“Great. I went ahead and ordered the chopper for you both. The pilot is leaving Nadi’s airbase at five AM, which means you won’t get any sleep, but at least you’ll be here by dawn, around the same time we’re due to sail in. I’ll have a cabin made ready for you both. Hey, how’s the girls’ case going?”

“Agent Gilchrist is still tidying away the details, though I’ve done all I can. I actually rang to check in on Saria. How’s she doing?”

“Still quite jumpy. We’ll all trying to work on unwinding her which is not an easy task.” Tyler’s clomping footsteps echoed down the line then a door banged shut. “I’m taking the phone to Saria now. Luke took her downstairs to play cards in the hope of distracting her. Luke mentioned she’s worried about you too.”

“She shouldn’t be. I’m not in any danger.” When her fears had first arisen and she hadn’t been getting any sleep, he’d taken her to see a therapist. The woman had assured him everything would blow over once Saria became more settled. The therapist had instructed him to give Saria whatever comfort she needed, and if that meant remaining close to her at night when she suffered the most, then to do so in a non-threatening way. He’d delivered, or at least he’d tried without stepping over that frustrating bodyguard-client line.

“Ben, living together for a year, no matter the circumstances, brings people closer together. Whether there’s danger or not, she’s going to worry. You should’ve rung her and touched base by now. Girls need that,” Tyler advised.

“Living together, yes, but I kept a professional distance even when I slept beside her.”

“And therein lies your problem. You allowed Saria to become dependent on you, and far more than I’ve ever seen you allow with another client before.”

“Her physical and emotional welfare were my responsibility, and I did whatever it took to ease her fears. She’s more than a client. She’s a friend. Put her on. Let me speak to her.” He couldn’t have her suffering. His gut would be in turmoil and eat him up.

“Almost there. I was poolside, and she’s two flights down. Saria, the phone’s for you.”

“Is it Ben?” Saria’s voice rolled over him, soothing him. “Ben, is everything okay? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Saria. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll feel better if you keep talking. I need to hear your voice.”

“I’m outside the house now and have the last of your things in the boot of my car. What do you want me to do with them?”

“Just keep a hold of what’s there for me until I can grab it off you. Did you hear Tyler and Lydia are getting married? He asked her the day we set sail.” An edge of expectation laced her tone and he sensed her next question before she asked it. “Lydia said Tyler wanted you and Brigs to come for the wedding.”

At least he could allay that fear.

“We are.” He propped his butt on the hood of his car and stroked the shiny silver paintwork. “Brigs and I are flying out tonight. We’ll be there by dawn tomorrow.”

“Then you have to ring me, before you takeoff and again when you land. Sorry, stupid fears, but you have to.”

“It’s no problem.” He’d do whatever it took to ensure she remained at ease. “I’d have called before now if I’d known what you were going through. You want to talk about it?”

“I’m still not sleeping well at night. It’s difficult when you’re not beside me.”

“You’ve got your sister.”

“I miss you too.”

“You’re not permitted to miss your bodyguard.”

“I knew you’d say that.” She clicked her tongue as if telling him off. “Will your office run smoothly with you gone?”

“My office assistant is beyond organized.” His specialist team of bodyguards worked all over the country and Gladys ensured everything ticked along. He accepted jobs from government officials right through to local law enforcement. Long or short term. He never turned anything of value down.

“Saria, get back here now. Dylan’s cheating and I need your help.” The deep male voice rang in Ben’s ears.

“Is that Luke?” he asked, clenching his fist.

“Yes, and we’re playing poker. I’m finally getting a good grasp on the game.”

“How’s that?” He’d tried to teach her, but gotten nowhere.

“Well, I have to remove a piece of clothing every time I get an ace in the hand.”

“What?” He jolted upright. “Are you telling me you’re playing strip poker?” Damn Luke. He’d told Tyler’s brothers they had to watch out for her, not take advantage of her. “I’ll kill him.”

“Calm down. I get to put that clothing back on if I win that hand. Luke insists it’s to help me concentrate on the good card I just got dealt. It’s a little bit of reverse psychology, and it’s working. I’m incredibly focused on not ending up naked.”

“You have to watch Luke.” Luke was the youngest, and at twenty-three, a terrible flirt. His short nails bit into his palm. No one was permitted to see Saria naked, not even him. One morning he’d actually caught her coming out of her bathroom after she’d showered. She’d been wrapped in a fleecy white towel that barely covered her breasts and bottom. That image would be forever seared into his mind. He’d certainly struggled to turn around and walk back out again when all he’d wanted to do was strip her bare, toss her onto the bed and touch her as he’d always longed to. He groaned then forced his wayward thoughts back into the dark hole they needed to remain in. “No nakedness is permitted on board that ship. You hear me?”

“Is that an order, Hammers?” One sexy smooth tone, the words delivered in a way that had those thoughts slipping free again. Hell, he loved it when she called him Hammers.

“If you ever wish to play strip poker, then let me teach you.” Damn. He had to get himself under control. He’d taken an oath to protect her, which meant even from himself.

“Is that a promise?” Was she flirting back with him?

“No.”

“Spoilsport.” A soft sigh.

“Morning there, neighbor.” The elderly man from across the other side of the road waved as he strolled along the pavement.

“Morning,” he called back and turned away so he wouldn’t invoke further conversation. “Saria, I need to go. I’m attracting some attention when I shouldn’t be.”

“Where are you?”

“In the driveway, but wishing I was throttling Luke instead. You’re not to remove any more clothing, okay?” Two birds shrieked from the highest branch of the old oak tree gracing the front lawn as if adding their agreement.

“Funny, but sure, I’ll let Luke know he’ll have to tangle with you if I do. Don’t forget to call me tonight. I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll call you when I get to the airport, about ten. Talk to you soon.” He hated hanging up, but he did before he gave in and stayed on the line with her. He’d have to find a way to insert some distance between them while at the island, but at the right time so they both managed to come out of this codependency they’d formed unscathed. He’d certainly never experienced these kinds of emotions with any other client he’d lived with, but then Saria was different. He’d known from the moment he’d met her that maintaining any emotional distance wouldn’t be easy. She loved with all her heart, and made his heart want far more than he could ever have.

The secret of his unfortunate birth had decreed his future. One of utter solitude.

Which meant Saria was out of bounds.

His disgusting father had so much to answer for.

* * * *

In bed, Saria tossed and turned, the white sheet covering her more like a stifling weight than a piece of thin cotton. The bedside clock ticked over to 6.00 AM. Ben should have called eight incessantly long hours ago, yet every time she picked up the sat phone and tried to get a dial tone, nothing happened. Last night the captain had said they’d moved out of satellite range. They needed to move back within it, or even better, arrive at the island, which had its own cell phone tower and connection to the mainland. She had to know if Ben had traveled safely.

She untangled her legs from the sheet, shoved her feet over the side of the queen-sized bed and palms on the windowsill, leaned her forehead against the wide sheet of darkened glass. Along the horizon, red blazed across the dawn sky and the ship slowed as the tropical island appeared like a hidden treasure within the expanse of blue. A long wharf jutted out, and at the top end of the walkway, a dark-skinned Polynesian man with springy black hair waved them in toward their berth.

The motor rumbled as the captain reversed into their slot, and the islander in his yellow shorts and polo with the resort’s logo emblazoned on it, snatched the end of a coiled mooring rope and tossed it to a crewmember waiting at the stern. The rope tightened and the ship knocked gently against the piling and settled.

Past the wharf, a clear white sand beach curved around the bay, and a mass of swaying palm and coconut trees gave glimpses through the foliage of the resort beyond.

Overhead, the whop-whop of chopper blades drummed a soulful tune. Ben’s flight was due in at dawn. Her heart pounded as the white and blue aircraft flew in and landed with a soft bump on the concrete helipad beside the wire-fenced tennis courts.

The blades whirred to a stop and two men jumped down then slung large brown army duffels over their shoulders. The first man jogged toward the wharf, his face hidden in shadow as he held a black cap in place. He hauled something from his pocket, jabbed at it then pressed it to his ear while the second man caught him up. The man who followed was impossible to misplace with his bronze Samoan skin and black curly hair cropped close to his head. Brigs. He wore long charcoal colored chinos and a black and white checked shirt, his favorite colors.