Jennifer Armentrout - Tempting the Bodyguard

Alana had never been wild. Not once in her entire life, which was amazing given the genes she’d inherited. None of her relationships had ever evoked the nervous rush of excitement or the kind of attraction that had her catching her breath. But it was better like that. Way too many women in her family had fallen prey to lust that flipped into unrequited love that destroyed the potential of their lives.

So caught up in her thoughts, she almost didn’t notice that her door was ajar as she reached forward to slide in the key. Her breath caught and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose.

Time slowed down as her instincts fired off warnings, telling her to get the hell out of there, to call the police, but she saw her hand, incredibly pale and trembling, push open the door.

What she saw wrenched a horrified cry from deep inside her chest and almost brought her to her knees.

“Chad is such a pansy ass.”

Sitting next to his brother on the large sofa, Chandler snorted as he nursed a beer. He and Chase were watching Chad on the big screen, pitching against the Braves. The Nationals were in the fifth inning, likely to win big in the away game.

The camera zoomed in on Chad as he lifted his left leg and reared back, prepared to deliver another wicked fastball. From this angle, it was hard not to notice the fuchsia hanky tucked in the back pocket of his uniform—his Bridget-inspired good luck charm and what, according to Chase, made him a pansy ass.

“Look who’s talking,” Chandler replied mildly, taking a swig of his beer. “I think you broke the record for how many texts you can send a girlfriend in a hour.”

Chase shot him a look. “Whatever. Maddie isn’t feeling well, so I’m checking in on her.”

Real concern pinched his features as he looked at his brother. Maddie was like a little sister to Chandler and he cared for her deeply. “What’s wrong with her?

“I think she’s got the flu,” he said, his gaze moving from the screen to his phone. “Woke up this morning throwing up like she was on an all-night bender. I told her I’d stay home with her tonight, but she told me to leave or she’d kick my ass.”

Chandler’s lips twitched into a smile. “You’re not going to the clubs tonight, then?”

“Hell no.” Chase had taken over their father’s business, running and operating several exclusive clubs throughout the tri-state area. “I’m already itching to get back to her, so I’m sure as hell not going to spend half the night away just in case she gets sicker.”

“Then you should be home.”

Chase glanced at him. “Like I said, she threatened to kick my ass. You know how she gets.”

He laughed. Maddie was a tiny thing, but he wouldn’t put it past her to make good on her threat. “You should pick her up some ginger ale and crackers.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Chandler flipped him off as he kicked his leg off the coffee table and leaned back. A foul ball cracked up into the air, then got snatched by the catcher, ending the inning. As it switched to a commercial, his thoughts wandered to the phone call he’d made earlier and a small grin pulled at his lips.

He’d flustered the un-fluster-able and didn’t that fill him with a ridiculous amount of smugness? He really shouldn’t be messing with her, considering the situation she was in, but he just couldn’t help himself.

His own phone sat like a stone on the arm of the sofa. He hadn’t expected Alana to call him, even if she’d said that she would. It wasn’t like her, but damn if he wasn’t seconds away from turning into Chase. He wanted her, and he knew she wasn’t going to make it easy, but he needed to proceed with caution. He had a feeling that the more he pushed, the more she’d push back. And while her snappy mouth and fierce personality were a huge part of her allure, he didn’t want her to close him out before he even got in.

But maybe…maybe he’d swing by her hotel later, accidentally, of course.

“Did you get fitted for your tux yet?” Chase asked, throwing his arm along the back of the couch. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who hasn’t. I’m pretty sure Mitch got it done already.”

“No.” Chandler laughed. “The wedding’s not until June. We have plenty of time—”

A knock on his front door interrupted him. He started to move, but Chase got up, sliding his phone into his pocket. “I’ll see who it is.”

“Have at it.” Chandler leaned back as Chase disappeared from the room.

He wasn’t expecting anyone, but it could be Murray or one of the other guys who worked for him. But when his brother returned, rocking one hell of a “what the fuck” expression, he knew it couldn’t be one of them.

“You have a guest.”

“No shit,” Chandler replied drily. “Where is said guest?”

Chase eyed him strangely. “Where I left her—inside the foyer.”

Her? Chandler dropped his feet to the floor in surprise. Before Chase even continued, he already had a suspicion of who it could be.

“Do I even want to know why Chad’s publicist is here?” Chase demanded in a low voice.

“Ex,” he muttered, putting his beer down on the coffee table.

Chase made a face. “Like the fact that she no longer works for Chad matters. What the hell…?”

Whatever else his brother was saying was lost to him. Chandler left him standing in the living room as he made his way through the dining room. Curiosity was riding him hard. Alana had sought him out? Not even calling him, but coming to his house? Fuck yeah. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.

His curiosity turned to apprehension the moment he laid eyes on her.

Alana stood with her back plastered to his front door, holding a black purse to her chest in the same manner she’d held the file folder. Tiny strands of raven-colored hair wisped around a face that was way too pale. She was in another boxy, lackluster suit that seemed to swallow her whole. Her eyes were impossibly wide, the look about them wounded and scared.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, his voice harsher than he intended.

She flinched and croaked out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Sorry for what?” He made sure his voice was softer this time as he approached her. “What happened?”

Her lower lip trembled as she swallowed hard. “I went home after work to get a few things and discovered that someone had broken into my apartment.”

“Shit,” he muttered, thrusting a hand through his hair. He would’ve tailed her ass this evening, but watching Chad on the big screen was tradition. The muscles in the back of his neck tensed. “But you’re okay?”

She gave a quick jerk of her chin, but her face was still too pale. “I should’ve called, but—”

“No. It’s okay. Did you call the police?” When she nodded, he cursed again. “Did they just take a report?”

“Yes. I told them about the letters and my car, but there’s really nothing they could do at the moment and I couldn’t—”

“Go back to the hotel?”

She blinked. “How…how did you…? Of course,” she said numbly. “You’ve been watching me.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you. There’s a difference.”

Several moments passed as she seemed to let that sink in. “I didn’t know what to do.” She drew in a deep breath that shuddered through her frame. “I don’t have anyone else…” She trailed off, clamping her lips tightly together and shaking her head.

“Fuck, Alana. I told you not to stay in your apartment. You could’ve been home when—”

“I know. I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to…”

Admit that there wasn’t anyone she could go to. Shaking his head, he looked away for a second. Truth was, she could’ve just been honest, but she was too damn stubborn for that.

“Are you sure you’re okay? No one was there when you showed up?”

She shook her head.

Apprehension flipped to anger in less than a second. Partly due to the fact that someone had been in her apartment again and also partly toward himself. He should’ve fucking tailed her tonight.

Alana drew in a shallow breath, drawing his stare. “Everything was destroyed, Chandler—my couch, curtains, furniture, and clothes. Food was pulled out of the fridge, emptied all over the floors and my bed.” She broke off suddenly, her eyes blinking furiously. “Everything. Looked like someone took a knife to it. I have rental insurance, but to do all that? And the letters—I left them in the file on my desk. They were gone.”

At the sight of her valiantly holding back tears, something unhinged in his chest. Alana was strong and stubborn, but through the course of his career, he’d seen people break over less things. Having her home broken into repeatedly and having her personal items destroyed was enough to put anyone in shock, especially someone like Alana, who would try to control the path of a tornado.

Something like this sent a clear message: the perpetrator was the only one in control. It also said that the person had moved beyond harmless threats. Someone wanted to scare Alana badly enough to send her running, something he doubted she did often, and he’d succeeded.

The woman looked like her legs would give out on her at any moment. The urge to take her into his arms hit him hard. He wanted to hold her. More than that, he wanted to protect her. That sudden need went beyond his job, but he resisted. Something told him that she would most likely react like a wild animal cornered if he did pull her into an embrace.

“Come on,” he said quietly. Taking her arm in a gentle grasp, he led her into the living room so she could sit.

His brother’s brows nearly reached his hair as he watched Chandler guide a quiet Alana to the edge of the couch. She tucked her hands between her knees, but he could still see them trembling.

A feeling of helplessness assaulted him, a sensation he wasn’t used to at all. Chandler knew how to protect people. He made a living doing it, but so far, he’d done a piss-poor job of doing so.

Turning to his brother, he curled his hands into fists. “Can you go get us a glass of whiskey?”

Chase opened his mouth but closed it and then left to do his bidding. Very wise decision, because if any bullshit comment came out of his mouth about Alana, he would lay him out on his fucking back. Brother or not.

Alana’s eyes followed Chase’s retreating form. “He doesn’t understand why I’m here.”

“Fuck him.”

Her gaze bounced back to his. “Really?”

“Yep.” He sat in front of her on the coffee table. “This is my house, so fuck him.”

A dry laugh came from her. “I really am sorry. I just didn’t know what to do. Seeing all my stuff destroyed like that?” She bit down on her lip and closed her eyes briefly. When they reopened, her stare fixed over his shoulder.

Chase returned with a glass of amber liquid. Chandler didn’t give him the chance to hand it to her. Intercepting the glass, he waited until Alana lifted her hands. “Drink this,” he ordered, somewhat surprised when she obeyed.

Alana took a huge gulp and immediately sputtered.

“Slowly.” Chandler chuckled. “It’s a bit strong.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, taking another tiny sip.

Chase lingered by them, his brows pinched. “Is everything okay?”

He opened his mouth, but Alana lifted her gaze. “Yes. Everything is fine. I’m just…” She took another sip, her stare once more fixing over Chandler’s shoulder. “Chad’s playing?”

Both men looked behind them, forgetting what they were watching. Chase folded his arms. “Yes. He’s in Atlanta.”

Her knuckles were bleached white from how tight she was holding the glass. “How is he? And Bridget?”

Chandler knew what she was doing. Redirecting the questions. He’d humor her. “They’re doing great. Thanks to you.”

His brother opened his mouth again, but Chandler cut him off with a warning glare. “How’re the wedding plans going?” she asked, oblivious to the brothers’ silent exchange.

Chase cleared his throat. “It’s going.”

“They plan to marry in June,” Chandler said, giving a little more detail. He ignored the way his brother stiffened. Damn it, he was starting to get pissed. Yes, Alana hadn’t gone easy on Chad and had blackmailed Bridget, but she wasn’t a fucking terrorist hell-bent on destroying their lives. “I think they’re planning to hold off on the honeymoon until after the season’s over.”

“That makes sense.” She finished off the whiskey, staring at the screen. “That’s all…very nice. They make such a great couple.”

Ten levels of awkward silence descended on the room, and anyone with an ounce of common sense would’ve bounced by now, but Chase looked like he was glued to his spot. Turning to his brother, Chandler pinned him with a look until Chase rolled his eyes.