Myrna Mackenzie

Keeping Her Safe


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      That was such a joke. She hadn’t had peace of mind since this whole Jason Jamison business had started. Moreover, she was currently involved in some sensitive sleuthing for an article she wanted—no, needed—to write, and having someone trailing her would be a decided disadvantage. Besides, this man, with his short dark hair, gray eyes and hard-muscled body, was not the kind to make any woman feel peaceful. Unless one counted the afterglow of a sexual encounter as peaceful….

      “I’ll call Daniel,” she said, chasing her thoughts away as she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Daniel’s number.

      “Hi, Natalie,” Daniel said when she had told him what she wanted. “Yes, that’s definitely my big brother. He’s a bit imposing, but I can assure you that he’s highly effective.”

      Natalie looked up, and her eyes met Vincent’s. For a minute, she couldn’t look away, couldn’t swallow. Imposing was a good word for the man. It was a word she didn’t care for much.

      “Are you okay with this, Natalie?” Daniel asked. “I don’t mean to scare you, but until Jamison’s case is complete, and with these notes circulating, you need to be protected. Vincent will do that. He’s more dependable than anyone I know, and he’s capable, as well. He’ll get the job done. All right?”

      No, she was not all right. For years, she had been treated as a cute but inept little doll by her family. Moreover, Joe Franklin, her good-ol’ boy boss, felt that women should be happy just to write fluff pieces. Now Vincent Fortune would join the ranks of those who wanted to protect little Natalie McCabe from the world. He would smother her with his undeniable presence. But she had no choice. To change things, she had to remain healthy and alive.

      “I’m fine with that, Daniel. Thank you.” She hung up.

      “All right, come in and let’s get started, Mr. Fortune,” she said, stepping back and letting the man in her doorway inside. “But I’m going to be honest. I’m really uncomfortable having a man following me around.”

      “Excuse me,” he said, “but I have to ask. Is it just the prospect of having a bodyguard that bothers you or the fact that I’m a man?” His eyes turned dark and he didn’t surge forward into her house as she would have expected. “Because,” he continued, “you should understand that most people are uncomfortable having a shadow at first. They get used to it. If the discomfort goes deeper, though, I need to know.”

      She felt herself growing warm. “I just don’t like feeling helpless. Having someone paid to keep me safe makes me feel hemmed in, frustrated. I have work to do, Mr. Fortune.” It was important work, too. The story she was trying to uncover would not only help establish her as a respected reporter, but it would bring justice to many elderly people who had been wronged. She couldn’t give that up.

      Vincent gave her a curt nod. “I respect your work, Ms. McCabe. I hope you understand that while VF Securities is my business and I take pride in my work, this situation goes beyond that. I take the intimidation of innocent individuals very seriously. That’s what I’m seeing here. You’ve been threatened. I’ve seen the notes that have been sent to you. Someone wants to frighten you. He or she wants you out of the picture. I don’t intend to let that happen.”

      Suddenly the thing she had been avoiding thinking about came rushing back at her. I’m watching you, Natalie. You’re never alone, Natalie. Don’t let down your guard, Natalie. The notes had frightened her a great deal, it was true. Her hands had trembled just holding the bits of paper those notes had been written on, and she felt sick even remembering those moments. But giving in to that fear, letting someone else take away her choice to be strong and to be the one in charge…it just made the fear worse, in a way. She had struggled all her life for the chance to follow her own path. This was too much like admitting that her family had been right all along, like conceding that she really was weak, parasitically helpless.

      The thought threatened to overwhelm her, suffocate her. She gave herself a mental shake and tried to stand taller. “Mr. Fortune, I grew up with parents and three older brothers who felt I was incapable of even walking across the street without assistance. I do understand the need for your expertise and your protection, and I am grateful for all you and Daniel are trying to do for me. But I have to be able to live my life and do my job without interference. I have to be able to have some semblance of normalcy.”

      “All right,” he said in his dark, sexy voice as he entered her home and shut the door behind him. “I’ll do all I can to make that possible. I’m here to watch your back, and I’ll do my best to make it easy for you.”

      But as he brushed past her, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave, a fragrance that only emphasized his masculinity, she couldn’t imagine it ever being easy to have this man watching her every move. Already she felt as if she were walking around in her underwear. His eyes were everywhere. She could see him assessing every nook and cranny of her living room, noting the locks on the windows, the open curtains that let in the sunshine.

      She could almost hear her parents clucking every time she took a risk. She could remember her three brothers’ frowns if a boy so much as glanced below her neck. This kind of scrutiny was not new to her. The old, familiar sense of beating her head against the wall crept right back in, only this time she couldn’t pretend the scrutiny was unjustified, that she could handle everything on her own. Like it or not, someone really was threatening her.

      “I appreciate your candor and your promises, but my life is going to change, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

      “Yes,” he said, turning to face her. “It already has. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time, and because of that everything will be different from here on out.”

      “Some people would say I was in the right place at the right time. Jason Jamison is behind bars.”

      He gave a slight nod. “Yes.”

      But Natalie had to admit that his first comment had been right, in a way. Because she was a valued witness whose safety was in question, she was going to be spending a lot of time with a man she wouldn’t ordinarily have ever met, one she would never have chosen to meet.

      Natalie sighed and nodded. “All right, keep me safe, Mr. Fortune.”

      “It will be my primary goal.”

      And hers would be to keep her life as normal as possible, to make sure that Vincent Fortune remained a shadow, one she could shed once this mess with Jason Jamison was over.

      Vincent sat down at Natalie McCabe’s fussy little kitchen table and did his best to look a little less formidable. In his line of work, having a little brawn was usually good, but it was never a good idea to make a client uneasy.

      Natalie McCabe, with her soft, husky voice that couldn’t quite hide her nervousness no matter how hard she tried, was clearly uncomfortable where he was concerned.

      “All right, Ms. McCabe, we’ll need to go over all that’s happened to you since you attended that party, and I’ll need to have an idea what your daily schedule is.”

      “I can tell you everything that’s happened,” she said.

      “Great. And the schedule?”

      She looked to the side. “I’m a reporter, Mr. Fortune.”

      “Vincent. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together and, really, I’m just not a ‘Mr. Fortune’ kind of guy.”

      She blinked those light green eyes of hers. Eyes he would have been attracted to if she were not a client. But she was.

      “Vincent, then,” she said, her tone reluctant. “I’m a reporter, Vincent. I interview people. If I tell you my schedule, you’ll follow me around, won’t you?”

      He smiled. “That’s generally the idea of a bodyguard, yes.”

      “Exactly. That’s going to be a problem.”

      “In what way?”

      Natalie