Deep Focus

When Melanie held up the key to show him, her lips pursed, he grabbed hold of both their suitcases and prepared to follow her. “I can sleep on the floor. I’m used to it.”

But she paused in lifting her sunglasses to her face and said, “Melly Ambrosia wouldn’t worry about sharing a king-size bed with her bodyguard. She wouldn’t think twice about it. So I’m okay with it if you are. No reason you should have to suffer because Ian is a jerkface. I promise I won’t kick you, and I don’t travel in my sleep.”

Fair enough. “If you’re sure you don’t mind. I can’t say I’ll turn down a mattress over the floor.”

He felt even more strongly about it when they reached the room and saw the wall-to-wall ceramic tile. That would hurt to sleep on, no doubt about it. She realized it, too.

“Uh, yeah, we can share the bed.” She tossed her purse onto the surface in question. “Jeez, frickin’ Louise, this is ridiculous! I want to strangle that man. Here we are in Cancún, two total strangers sharing a room, and why? Just why exactly?” She hauled her suitcase over to the luggage rack and viciously unzipped it. “I don’t know. That’s the answer to that question. I. Don’t. Know.”

She was fully entitled to have a meltdown, and frankly, she was showing a lot more restraint than he would have under the circumstances. “Maybe you should call Ian.”

“I don’t have an international data plan, and I’m not wasting another dime on that man.”

He couldn’t blame her for that. “Then screw Ian Bainbridge. You can pepper him with questions when you get back. But right now, let’s bust open the complimentary minibar and check out the veranda. Dolphin view, remember?” He had no idea what that meant, exactly, but clearly it was something she’d chosen when she’d booked the room.

Melanie took a deep breath and released it. “You’re right. You’re totally right.” She yanked off the sweater she was wearing, revealing a tank top underneath. “I’m burning up.”

So was he. He kicked off his dress shoes and unzipped his bag to find his sandals. “Feels good, doesn’t it? We’re supposed to get a blizzard in Chicago in two days, so you can take a bunch of beach selfies and post them online to make your friends jealous.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took his socks off and wiggled his toes. He was unbuttoning his shirt when Melanie turned to respond to him. Her mouth fell open, then she quickly clapped it shut. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Should I go into the bathroom to change my shirt?” He didn’t see the point, but it was her hotel room. She’d paid for it. He was still the employee, technically.

“No. Of course not. I mean, you’re going to be at the beach with me. I can handle seeing your chest.”

She sounded flustered. She looked flustered, running her hands through her hair.

That was promising.

But then she went over to the patio door and slid it open. “Oh! Hunter, there are dolphins out here!”

“On the veranda?” he asked, joking.

“No, you goof. In the water. Look.”

He took his shirt and his undershirt off and dutifully walked over to the open doorway. On the veranda were a hammock and two chairs. Beyond the railing was some sort of grotto, and yep, there were a couple of dolphins cruising around, doing what dolphins do.

“Very nice.”

“Aren’t they cute?” She moved across the patio and leaned over to take a closer look. Her bottom lifted up toward him in those tight jeans.

“Very cute.” He was definitely appreciating the view.

“Why do they slap the water with their tails?”

“I don’t know. But they must have a porpoise.” He moved up next to her as he deadpanned the worst pun ever.

“What?” She glanced over at him, her lips moving as she silently repeated what he had just said. “Oh, my God. Really? For a guy who looks so serious all the time, you crack an awful lot of jokes.”

“I’m multilayered.” Actually, it was a coping mechanism. The shrink he’d been ordered to see after his injury had told him that. It seemed to be working just fine for him, so he wasn’t going to bother making any changes.

“Why did you become a bodyguard?”

“Because I’m not qualified to do anything else.”

“Is that the only reason?”

He hesitated, resting his forearms on the railing and staring down at the rippling water. The dolphins were making clicking sounds in the background, and somewhere on the other side of the resort mariachi music was playing. “No. I wanted to protect people. Do something useful. Leaving the military made me feel as though I didn’t have a purpose anymore.”

“I can see that about you,” she said quietly. “So you think you’ll keep doing this line of work? Do you work for a firm?”

“Yes. I’m not good at paperwork.” It was true. He preferred action, and he hadn’t wanted to be bothered with starting up his own business or doing consulting work. It was easier to sign on with a security firm and be out in the field. He had expected it would give him the adrenaline rush he had experienced in the Marine Corps, but he had learned that the work was mostly monotonous.

The other thing he had discovered was that it opened him up to conversations with his clients. Or mostly, it opened him up to them telling him about their lives, while he played the listener the way he always had. His mother had always told him he had a face that made people confess all their sins, and honestly, he had no clue why. Maybe his silence was the only invitation they needed. Plus he didn’t judge. “It’s not what I expected,” he said honestly. “I was looking for more action.”

“I’m sort of a bummer of a client, then, aren’t I? You aren’t going to see much action with me. Zero action here.”

She had no idea what that particular phrasing did to him. It was a good thing only the dolphins could see that he was tenting his dress pants. “You never know. Sometimes there’s action when you least expect it.”

The dolphin snorted from his blowhole.

Damn right.

4

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