“What's your father's number?”
“It's in the book by the phone in the sitting room. It's under
D
for Dad. If you'll excuse me, I want to call the hospital and see how Raleigh is doing.” She pulled her phone from her bag and disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
The nurse she spoke to wasn't very forthcoming and told her nothing she didn't already know. Tamlyn sighed and shoved the phone back in her bag.
God, please take care of Raleigh. I may not like the bloke much, but..
.
Pushing herself up, Tamlyn moved over to the door to the sitting room. Sgt. Ames was going ten rounds with her father on the phone. She took the pen from the desk, then chewed it for an instant before scrawling a note. After propping it against the nightlight, she grabbed her bag, and then headed for the door.
Sgt. Ames said not to “leave the hotel,” so she wouldn't. This hotel was like a small townâone she'd not had the chance to explore yet. She'd go down to the mall and walk around some of the shops.
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Martin ended the call more than a little confused. Lord Bradshaw had been far more concerned about the bodyguard than his daughter, to the point where the guy came across as not caring about her at all.
Lord, I don't understand this. He's her father and there isn't one iota of love in his voice. If she were my daughter, I'd be out here in a flash. Not that I will ever know what that is like unless You find me a wife and by some miracle we have children. That lack of parental love must be so hard for Lady Bradshaw, but am I the right person for this job? Perhaps someone elseâ¦definitely not some scarred, burned out cop.
People like Lady Bradshaw were one reason he no longer worked protective services. He'd rather deal with villains, than snobs who thought they were above him just because they'd been born into money. Having said that, sometimes babysitting was fun, he'd gotten to be a fly on the wall for the behind the scenes moments. But that entertainment was far outweighed by the bad.
It was more than a little ironic he'd left protective services, where he deliberately made himself the target to protect people, and then gotten hurt within six months of being back on the streets.
His cell rang before he had a chance to check on the bodyguard. It wasn't good news. Martin moved over to her bedroom door and knocked on it. “Lady Bradshaw?” There was no answer.
Martin opened the door and sighed when he found the room empty. He grabbed the note leaning against the nightlight and read it. His stomach burned. Five minutes on the job, and he'd misplaced her already.
He stormed back to the book by the phone and thumbed through it, searching for her cell number. Maybe he'd find it listed under
B
for Brat? If not there, maybe it would be filed under
A
for Annoying, or even
C
for Cute?
He stopped himself short.
Cute? Where'd that come from?
T
for Tamlyn. He programed the number into his phone, dialed, and waited for a reply.
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Tamlyn pulled her phone from her bag. She looked at the unfamiliar number and frowned. Not Dad then. Half tempted not to answer it, she let it ring several times before finally taking the call. “Hello?”
“Lady Bradshaw, where are you?” His intriguing American accent sounded even deeper on the phone. One of those âto die for' voicesâand they thought only British blokes had cute accents.
“Hello, Sgt. Ames. What can I do for you?”
“Where are you? I told you to stay here.”
“Actually, you said not to leave the hotel without you, and I haven't. I'm in⦔ she paused, glancing around, “â¦the big garden thing with the fountains in the hotel mall.”
He sighed. “Stay right there. I'm on the way.”
“Whatever.” Tamlyn hung up, then realized how rude that sounded. She'd apologize when he got there. She shoved her phone into her bag and walked over to the bar. “Can I have two cokes with ice and a slice, please?”
The bartender looked blankly at her. “A slice of what?”
“Lemon.” Tamlyn resisted the urge to shoot back a rude reply or roll her eyes. This truly was like being on a different planet. She'd ordered pizza and chips the previous evening and gotten crisps with her meal instead of thick rectangular slices of fried potato.
She slid the money across, took the drinks, and carried them to a table by one of the potted palms. She slowly moved the straw through the drink. What had Raleigh drunk to make him so sick so soon after they arrived in Vegas? Because he hadn't eaten anything.
And why did she care so much about someone who only protected her because he worked for her father?
Sgt. Ames, on the other hand, didn't, but likewise had orders to protect her. Maybe one day she'd find someone who had other reasons to keep her safe. The sergeant's cologne washed over her as he slid into the chair opposite. She took a deep breath, and then looked up. “I'm sorry. I was rude, and it was uncalled for.”
“Apology accepted.”
She pushed the other drink over to him. “I got you this. What did Dad say?”
“He wants you to go home.”
“No way, José.”
“My name's Martin.”
Tamlyn almost smiled. A cop with a sense of humor. “Have you any idea how long it took me to persuade Dad to let me come in the first place?”
“No, but I'm sure you'll tell me.”
“Ten months. This is my first ever holiday without him coming with me. There must be some other way.”
Sgt. Ames sipped his drink. “He did offer to send someone called Garth to protect you.”
Tamlyn picked up her drink and stabbed the ice cubes with the straw for several long moments before replying. “No way. Garth is Dad's most trusted, omnipresent, top security person.” She took a long sip, the cold liquid sliding down her throat. “He thinks he's God's gift to women, but he's sleazy with it. I don't like him. He works out way too much.”
“Not your type then?”
Tamlyn rolled her eyes, not sure why she'd just told him all that. “Oh, no, no way. He's more boring than Raleigh.”
“Is
no way
your answer to everything?”
She tilted her head. “Usually. Is that going to be a problem?”
Sgt. Ames poked the lemon with his straw and pulled it out, setting it to one side. He looked at it much the same way the bartender had looked at her when she asked for the lemon. “That depends on what you want to do, Lady Bradshaw.”
“I don't know. But I'm not going home, and I'm not having Garth babysit me, either. When I was younger and he caught me sneaking in or out of the house, I'd get a rollicking from him as he thinks it's his right to stop me from doing things. He'd tell Dad, and I'd get another rollicking from him. Dad would ground me as well, and then the whole cycle would start over. I'm sick of it.”
He smirked, amusement in his voice. “The hired help grounded you?”
“Yes, he grounded me. Who ever heard of something so completely unfair? Anyone would think I was fifteen.”
His gaze ran over her for a long moment. “You don't look a day over seventeen.”
Tamlyn pushed her chair back. “Flattery will get you nowhere. For your information, I'm twenty-six. And you must be coming up for fifty if you're retiring.”
He shook his head. “Thirty-five. So, what do we do? If you don't want this Garth guy watching you, and don't want to go home, then I guess it's me.”
“Only you don't want to babysit me, either.”
Sgt. Ames sucked in a deep breath. “Perhaps I shouldn't have said it like that.”
“No, you shouldn't have.”
He tilted his head. “So, where would you like to go first?”
“I already told you. The Stratosphere. I need to make a pit stop first.”
“I'll escort you.”
“I can find the ladies on my own.” She winked at him. “I won't be long. Finish your drink, and I'll be back before you know it.” Tamlyn stood, realizing she had no idea where the ladies room was. No problem, she'd pop up to the suite. She pulled the key from her pocket, and called the lift.
Three men got in with her, laughing and joking. She pressed the button for her floor, then stood to one side, as the doors closed.
A man in a blue suit sidled over to her. “Hello, gorgeous.” He was British.
Tamlyn took a step to the left. Comments like that didn't deserve an answer. She shuddered inside as Blue Suit's eyes wandered up and down her figure.
He stepped closer, encroaching on her personal space. “It's a crime that a beautiful woman like you should be alone in Vegas. Perhaps you'd like some company?”
Tamlyn wrapped her arms around herself. “I don't think so, and I'm not alone.”
“Perhaps I could change your mind. After all, we Brits should stick together in a foreign city.” He pinned her against the wall, his fingers touching her arms. His alcohol scented breath filled her nostrils making her want to gag.
“I don't think so.” Panic engulfed her. How was she going to get free? If he tried something, she was horribly outnumbered.
Pleaseâ¦
The doors opened with a ping. She had no idea what floor she was on, but it didn't matter, she was getting off and going to find Sgt. Ames. She tried to get free. “This is my floor.”
Blue Suit shook his head and didn't move. “I don't think so. For some reason we're still in the lobby.”
“Going up?” The familiar voice sent ripples of relief through her. Never before had she been so glad to see a bodyguard. “There you are, babe.”
“Right here,” she answered quickly. “I thought I'd lost you.”
Sgt. Ames stepped inside the lift and moved over to Tamlyn. Something smoldered in his gaze as Blue Suit scooted over to the other men. “Are you all right?”
“I'm fine.”
She closed her eyes in relief as the cop put a protective hand against the small of her back and moved between her and the other men. Her knees were about to turn to jelly, and she wasn't sure whether it was his touch or the close encounter. She took a deep breath, letting the scent of his cologne wash over her.
The lift moved, and after a minute reached the floor where the three men exited. Blue Suit smirked at Tamlyn as they left. “Offer's still on. Room 2957. Ask for Daniel.”
Tamlyn ignored him, and as the doors closed, she took a step away from her bodyguard. “Thank you for getting here when you did.”
“What did he do?” Was it her imagination, or had he suddenly grown protective of her? There was something in his stance, in his voice, that hadn't been there before. Something almostâ¦personal? She dismissed the thought as soon as it came.
“Nothing. You got here before he could do anything other than breathe on me. He's a twit who can't keep his eyes in his head or his hands to himself. I just want to forget him and go to the Stratosphere.”
“Really?”
“Definitely. Once I've made that pit stop. I'm not about to let an idiot spoil my day.”
He held her gaze. “Fineâ¦on one condition. You stay in my line of sight at all times.”
“Butâ”
He cut her off, still not raising his voice. “It's not up for debate, Lady Bradshaw.”
“I'm not six.” The lift doors opened on her floor.
“I can see that. But I can't do my job if I can't see you at all times.”
“OK” Tamlyn tossed her phone to him. “Here's my phone. Do whatever police thing you need to do to track me.”
No doubt Garth had already put a tracker in it, but one more wasn't going to make a shred of difference.
For some reason, being watched by Sgt. Ames didn't seem at all creepy. So long as staying in his line of sight didn't include the bathroom or bedroom she could live with it. For now.
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The view from the top of the Stratosphere took Tamlyn's breath away. It was a casino hotel like many others, but had a huge tower on it. The bloke in the lift on the way up had helpfully told her she was as high as the old World Trade Center and ascending at eighty feet a second. And the view hadn't been exaggerated. She leaned on the edge of the barrier, the wind whipping her hair back and forth, the whole of Vegas lying at her feet. “I'm king of the world.”
Her surly guardian cracked a smile. “Don't you mean queen?”
“That, too. You know, you're a lot more fun to be with than Raleigh. He'd have made me go in by now.”
“Oh?”
“He spends far too much time around Garth and Dad. Can't let little Tammy out of his sight in case she falls over and bangs her knee. And no way can she walk down the street on her own in case the big bad man tries to take her away. Some days I may as well be six, for all the freedom I get.” She didn't add the line about taking lifts on her own. She'd learnt the hard way about that.
Sgt. Ames studied her for a moment before returning his gaze to take in the other people on the viewing platform. “Doesn't sound like fun.”
“It isn't. And don't even think about calling me Tammy. I hate it.”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” he said dryly.
“Good. So what's that over there?”
His gaze followed her finger. “That's Nellis Air Force Base.”
“Where the aliens are?”
Sgt. Ames snorted. “If you believe in aliens, they're at Area Fifty-One, that way. Not officially, that is.”
She turned around and leaned against the barrier.
“You'll get dirt on your white pants.”
Tamlyn grimaced. “They can be washed. Can we go around the other side and take some more pictures?”
“Sure, then we should head back. Don't want you to have too much fun in one day.”