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Colton's Secret Bodyguard
Colton's Secret Bodyguard
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Colton's Secret Bodyguard

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She swayed toward him slightly, her mind on the emails. Was it possible the two things were related? She instinctively trusted Rylan, but she barely knew him. Did she really want to start sharing secrets with him?

* * *

Tell me about the emails, Bree.

For a second, Rylan thought she might be about to open up to him. Then she gave him that too-bright smile and he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Had he blown it with his comment about stalking? The words had left his lips before he’d thought them through. Even though he regretted them now, the comparison was accurate. In his work as a private security consultant, Rylan had protected several celebrities who’d been threatened by obsessive fans. He knew most of the tactics.

Although he hadn’t seen the emails, he was convinced this was the start of some low-level scare tactics. He was willing to bet the coffee would turn up again in a day or two, in the exact place Bree had left it. The person who was doing this would be close by, observing her confusion and distress, enjoying the impact of his actions. The biggest problem was that Rylan knew from experience that most stalkers weren’t content to stick with the minor stuff. Having fixated on Bree, this guy would soon be planning something bigger and bolder.

She’d said that the only person who had access to her apartment was her mom. Although Bree might try to brush this aside as a forgetful episode, Rylan wasn’t convinced. Which meant someone other than Audrey was able to get into Bree’s home. He didn’t want to frighten her, but the image of a shadowy figure slipping into her bedroom while she was asleep chilled his blood.

“You should change your locks.”

Bree blinked. “You seriously think someone came in here?”

“You told me your family has been having a few problems. A brick was thrown through the gallery window a week ago. Your recorder and coffee going missing may be unconnected.” He became aware that his hands were still on her shoulders, and he slid them slowly down to her upper arms. “But it couldn’t hurt to tighten up your personal security.”

Her perfect white teeth caught briefly on the plump cushion of her lower lip, and everything Rylan knew about himself started to unravel. Tough. Professional. In control. In that moment, he was none of those things. All he wanted to do was wrap Bree up and protect her from anything that could cause her harm.

Could he really have developed such strong feelings for a woman he barely knew? He almost laughed out loud. There was no “could have” about it. The first time he had seen Bree, he had been rocked by an emotion so tender, wild and all-consuming, he knew his life had changed. Turning his back on her now wasn’t an option, even though he was terrified by what was happening to him.

Rylan didn’t do vulnerability. The son of an alcoholic, abusive father and a downtrodden mother, his early life had been about dodging the blows—physical and emotional. Although his father’s death freed him from fear, the damage had been done. Worthless. Weak. Cry baby. Mommy’s boy. He’d spent the rest of his life fighting those labels. Now he’d met Bree and, for the first time, his iron control had snapped.

Was he prepared to give his feelings a name beyond heady physical desire? After all, he had known her less than a week. As for how much he wanted her... Rylan had never known it was possible to feel this way. His whole body was humming with awareness of her. It was so intense that he was waging a constant internal fight to stop himself from saying to hell with the disguise. For once in his life, maybe he should forget he was a stand-up guy. Just follow his instincts, lean in closer and taste those pink parted lips...

With an effort, he forced his attention back to the subject at hand. “Your brother is the sheriff of Bradford County. Why not ask his advice?”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “I love Trey very much, but I don’t want him marching in here in full-on overprotective-big-brother mode. Not when I don’t even know if there’s a problem.”

Rylan shoved a hand through his hair. He could see why her parents were half-crazy with worry about her. There was a problem, but Bree was determined not to face it. Since he wasn’t supposed to know about the emails, he couldn’t use them as evidence that she was in danger. Instead, all he had was the brick through the gallery window and the possibility that someone was moving her property.

Rylan was like a man caught between two fires. His determination to protect her was stronger than ever. It was no longer a favor to Blaine. This was all about Bree. But if he was going to guard her properly, he had to stick close. And that meant enduring more of this agony.

As Bree reached up a tentative hand and stroked his cheek, her touch hit the center of his chest, making his heart beat faster. It also connected with another point, one south of his belt buckle.

Her smile was shy. “The meal was delicious.”

Catching a hold of her wrist, he dropped a kiss onto her palm. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

As she rose on the tips of her toes to move closer, Rylan sensed her nervousness. “Is it over?”

He almost groaned aloud. This was the worst kind of torture. Clasping her hands to his chest, he pressed his lips lightly to the corner of her mouth. “I have to go. I’m needed at the ranch.” He didn’t feel good about the lie but consoled himself that it was necessary.

“Oh.” Her eyelids fluttered, long lashes shadowing her cheeks. “Of course, you have animals to care for.”

She was probably picturing a traditional ranch with cattle or horses. Since she was unlikely to ever visit his home, there was no reason for Rylan to explain that the reality was very different. Even so, his lips quirked into a smile at the thought of his assortment of misfits.

Bree’s golden eyes scanned his face. Apparently satisfied at what she saw—he was fairly sure there was no hiding the regret he was feeling—she gave a tiny nod. “I can’t cook, but maybe I can take you out to dinner to return the favor?”

His smile widened. “I’d like that. A lot.”

She reached up and hooked a hand behind his neck, pulling his face down until they were nose-to-nose. With her breath fanning his lips, her voice was barely a whisper. “So would I.”

When she kissed him, she tasted of the strawberries and melon they’d eaten for dessert. Her lips were deliciously sweet, tender and warm on his, and as their mouths parted and tongues entwined, his thoughts shut down. All he could smell was Bree’s light floral perfume. All he could hear was her cotton skirt rustling against his jeans. All he could feel was the heat of their bodies and how good she felt in his arms.

Breaking that kiss was like a physical pain, but he couldn’t let things go any further. “I really do have to go.” Bree looked slightly dazed as she walked with him to the door. “Make sure you lock this behind me.”

She laughed. “You’ve met my mom, right?”

Where was this going? Had he given something away? Cautiously, he nodded. “Yes.”

“Locking my door at night is one of her obsessions. That and eating plenty of fiber.”

He grinned. “I’ll settle for the door.”

When it was closed, he waited until he heard the lock click into place before making his way down the stairs that led to the parking lot at the side of the Diamond. Bree might be careless with her personal security, but Rylan knew she would be safe for the rest of the night. How could he be sure? Because he would be hunkered down in his car, watching over her apartment until daybreak.

Chapter 3 (#u91ecdebd-38d6-5a69-9844-2e5006dda521)

Dawn was turning the summit of Pine Peak gold when Rylan eased his body into a more upright position. Although he hadn’t been expecting to spend the night in his vehicle, years of conducting surveillance had taught him to be prepared for any eventuality. As well as his licensed firearm, he had an overnight bag with toiletries and a change of clothes in the trunk. He also carried bottled water and snacks. Since the temperature had dropped below freezing, the items he had been most grateful for were a warm blanket and his woolen beanie.

Turning his head from side to side, Rylan attempted to ease the tightness in his neck muscles. The view through his windshield was of the Wise Gal Gallery with Bree’s apartment above it. To the rear, the mountains were slowly being revealed by the rising sun. The streetlights of Second Street curved away to his right. To his left, across the empty parking lot, the Diamond was still in darkness.

He shifted his body to face forward and a flicker caught his attention. Barely a movement, it was enough to have him diving out of the car and running toward the gallery. As he approached the entrance, he heard a soft groan from the base of the stairs that led to Bree’s apartment.

Rylan bit back a curse as he measured the distance to his vehicle and weighed his options. Return to get his weapon from the trunk and risk an intruder getting up those steps? Or remain unarmed and take his chances?

Another groan, clearly the sound of someone in pain, took the decision out of his hands. Cautiously, he moved forward. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he was able to make out the shape of a person lying on the floor.

Dropping to his knees, Rylan withdrew his cell phone from his pocket and activated the flashlight. Its beam revealed a large man wearing a security guard uniform. Although he was lying on his back on the concrete, the guy raised an arm to shield his eyes from the light.

“Where are you hurt?” Rylan tried to remember what Bree had said the guard’s name was. Swanick? Swinson? Swanson. That was it. David Swanson.

“Hit my head.” David struggled into a sitting position. “Low-life pushed me as he ran past.”

“Take it easy.” Rylan hooked an arm under his shoulders and eased him backward until he was leaning against the wall. “I’ll call 911.”

“No.” The other man raised a hand and felt the back of his head. “The skin isn’t broken. There’s hardly even a lump.”

Rylan wasn’t convinced. “You can’t be too careful with a head injury.”

“I know the drill.” David gave a shaky laugh. “If I get any severe headaches, blurred vision or dizziness, I’ll see a doctor.”

“What happened?” Rylan asked. “Have you been on duty all night?” If so, David had been slacking. Rylan hadn’t seen him patrolling the area.

David winced as he shook his head. “I start work at seven. Even though the sun doesn’t come up until about six forty-five at this time of year, I always follow the same routine. My apartment is over the Yogurt Hut.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the Diamond. “When I leave home, I check the perimeter of the parking lot before I go into the gallery and sign in.”

Rylan frowned. At this time of year, David would need to use a flashlight to do his first patrol. He was certain he’d have observed any signs of light or movement. “I was in my vehicle, but I didn’t see you.”

“You wouldn’t have.” There was a trace of bitterness in the security guard’s voice. “As soon as I stepped out of my apartment, I saw someone heading toward the gallery.”

Rylan tried to picture the scene. Was it likely that David could have noticed someone he had missed? It was a possibility. The Yogurt Hut was in the far left corner of the Diamond at a point just on the periphery of what Rylan was able to see from where he had been sitting in his car. Although he had taken time to observe each angle at regular intervals, he didn’t have his surveillance equipment. Consequently, a constant 360-degree view had not been available to him.

Even though the thought chilled him, he accepted that the other man could have seen something he hadn’t. “What made you suspicious?” he asked. “Couldn’t it have been someone like you, just heading to work?”

“Like I said, I do this every morning. No one is around at this time. When I saw the guy approaching the gallery, I was even more surprised since Bree doesn’t open the doors until about eight thirty most mornings. As I caught up with him, what really shook me was that he was heading for these stairs. The only place that can be accessed from here is Bree’s apartment, and why would anyone be sneaking around before it’s fully light?”

“Did you get a look at him?” Rylan asked.

“No. He had a hood pulled up, hiding his face. When I challenged him, and asked what he was doing here, he shoved me. That’s when I fell back and hit my head,” David said. “While I was lying on the ground, he ran off.”

“Bree said the security systems were updated after the recent attack. Are there cameras?”

“Not here. The closed-circuit TV is focused on the front of the gallery. There won’t be any footage of this incident.” David sat up straighter, directing a curious look at Rylan “Why are you here so early?”

It was time to think fast. Rylan couldn’t guarantee that he hadn’t been seen during his overnight vigil. He may as well tell the truth, even if he invented a reason.

“Engine trouble.” He grimaced. “Had to spend the night in my vehicle.”

“That was a cruel bit of luck.” Staggering slightly, David made an effort to get to his feet. Rylan gripped his elbow, supporting him until he was able to remain steady. “Couldn’t you get a tow?”

Rylan ignored the question. “Let’s go into the gallery. I’ll make you a drink and we can call the police.”

Although David took out his keys as he accompanied Rylan toward the huge glass doors, he didn’t seem to think much of that suggestion. “There’s nothing to tell them.”

“This guy was on his way up to Bree’s apartment.” Once they were inside the foyer, Rylan leaned on the reception counter while David deactivated the alarm. “That needs to be logged. What if he comes back and reaches his destination next time?”

Even as he made the comment that caused his blood to run cold, his analytical brain was assessing the situation. If Bree was the intended target, the timing was odd. Why not try to get to her during the night instead of waiting until dawn? Unfortunately, the only person who could answer that question would be the stalker himself.

They went through to the staff kitchen. While Rylan fixed coffee, David went to the first-aid locker in search of painkillers.

When they were seated at a table, Rylan studied the other man thoughtfully. David was only of average height, but his physique was powerful. “Boxing? Or MMA?”

David gave an appreciative grin. “A little of both. Although I don’t have much time these days.” He returned the measuring glance. “You?”

Rylan laughed. “I boxed a little when I first joined the army. Now, the only fights I get into are with a temperamental donkey.” Aware of the other man’s look of surprise, he shook his head. “Long story. At least we know one thing about your attacker.”

David paused in the act of sipping his coffee. “We do?”

“If he knocked you over, he must be a big guy.”

The security guard shrugged. “He caught me by surprise. I didn’t get a sense of his size.”

Frustrated by the lack of information, Rylan held up his cell phone. “You want me to call the police?”

“Please.” David showed him a trembling hand. “I’m still shaken up.”

It was only as he began to relay the details of the incident to a dispatcher that Rylan realized he was doing the very thing Bree didn’t want. He knew enough about her to be aware of how much she valued her privacy. He could already hear her skepticism. There was no proof that the guy who pushed David had intended to harm her. Was he letting his protectiveness toward her override his common sense? Definitely. Where she was concerned, he would choose caution every time.

He only hoped she would see his point of view.

* * *

Although Bree went through her morning routine in her usual first-light daze, a new awareness forced its way through the brain fog. Her body was on high alert, moving fast instead of dawdling, conspiring to get her out of the apartment and into work faster. Why? The answer to that was easy. Because Rylan would be at the gallery.

She had always believed there was a possibility the bad-relationship fairy had been present at her birth. A few months into her first serious relationship, she had realized that the man who had sworn undying love was actually more interested in the Colton money. That could have been bad luck. However, when it happened a second time, she started questioning her judgment and eventually came to the conclusion that dating was not for her

Being out of that whole relationship loop hadn’t bothered her. Right now, she was too focused on her career. Maybe she’d feel differently in a few years when her biological clock started ticking. That was what she’d told herself. And it had been true. Until now.

Although she had initiated last night’s earth-shattering kiss, Rylan had still left. It would have been easy to have woken this morning feeling dispirited and spurned. Instead, she felt curiously optimistic. She had made her feelings plain. She had suspected all along that Rylan felt the same and his response to the kiss confirmed it.

After he’d gone, she’d indulged in some lengthy analysis of his behavior, while also reliving the heady sensation of his lips on hers. By walking away instead of taking things a step further, was he saying she meant more than a quick fling? The thought made her shiver with pleasure.

I hope so. Because he already meant so much more to her. There. The thought was out there. Scary but true.

After showering, she studied her hair in the mirror. She loved her curls, but they could be rebellious. They definitely needed to be kept in their place when she was working. Giving her hair a quick all-over spritz with her favorite macadamia oil product, she pulled her wild locks back into a ruthlessly tight braid.

When Bree purchased this property, she’d had a walk-in closet built. Her father had laughed and asked how long it would be before she needed another one. As she rifled through the overflowing rails, she realized Calvin Colton had been right. She either needed more space, or she would have to part with some of her precious vintage treasures. But how would she choose which of her 1950s cocktail dresses or rock-chick biker jackets to give away?

She pulled on black leggings, a short floral dress and knee-high brown boots. Over the top, she layered a long Scandinavian knit jacket in bright geometric blocks and twisted a contrasting scarf loosely around her neck. Moisturizing sunscreen, a touch of lip gloss, a spray of perfume, and she was a splash of color dashing past the mirror next to her front door.

Two minutes later, she regarded the man seated behind her desk with a wary expression. “I’m always pleased to see you, Trey. I also know how busy you are, so I’m guessing this isn’t a social call.”

Her brother grinned. “Most people start with good morning. How are things with you, sis? Still struggling to decide which you hate most...morning or anchovies?”

“The answer depends on whether I’m listening to my alarm clock or ordering pizza.” Bree flopped into the chair opposite him. “Seriously, why are you here?”

His expression became serious. “We got a report of a person behaving suspiciously close to these premises just before seven a.m. A security guard...” He checked his notes. “A guy named Swanson was attacked.”

Bree jerked upright. “David? Is he okay?”

“Fine. He had a fright, but he wasn’t seriously injured. He’s already back at work.” Her brother leaned forward with his hands clasped on the desk. “What bothers me is that Swanson thought the intruder was intending to climb the steps to your apartment.”

A cold trickle of fear tracked its way down Bree’s spine. She pushed it aside, frowning over the vagueness of Trey’s statement. “David thought that was his intention? A minor injury and the suspicion that a man may have been planning to climb the stairs to my apartment? Was that really the most pressing item on your schedule this morning, Trey?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “I wanted to check and make sure you were okay. The guy who called this in—”

She held up a hand. “I thought David Swanson called you?”

“No.” He consulted his notes. “The 911 dispatcher spoke to a Rylan Bennet.”

Bree rubbed the bridge of her nose. It was early. She was caffeine deprived and Trey’s presence had taken her by surprise. That must be why nothing was making sense. Because why would Rylan be here before the gallery opened?

“You know him?” Trey was watching her closely. Nothing escaped her brother.

“He manages a group of artists who are taking part in my next show. Mom introduced him to me.”

The Audrey Colton seal of approval acted like a charm, and Trey relaxed back into his chair. “Since I’m here, help me out. It’s only been a week since someone threw a brick through the gallery window. You’ve been getting threatening emails. So far, I don’t have any leads on who is responsible. Has anything happened since to make you feel uncomfortable?”