Amy Fetzer J.

The Unlikely Bodyguard


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her. She broke her gaze, frantically grasping for some anger, some disgust. But it just wasn’t there.

      Frustrated, she threw her hands up. “All right, I give up. I know when I’ve been licked.”

      “So,” came the dark rasp. “Last night is coming back to you.”

      She sputtered, swinging around to see him pause at the door, his tanned hand on the frame as he looked at her. An odd half-smile tugged at his lips, his gaze caressing her. White-hot heat spiraled through her, making her mad.

      “You’re twisted, Angel.”

      “Remember that.”

      Calli didn’t know what to make of the shadow shifting over his expression.

      But Gabe knew. And he was even more certain of himself now. Now that her faint smile offered forgiveness for the despicable cruelty he’d played on her last night. He didn’t deserve forgiving, but he was glad he had it. God. He had to keep away from her. Touching her brought him a bizarre freedom that he would keep destroying in slow increments until he destroyed her, too.

      He wasn’t good enough for a woman like Calli. Not for her kisses, her smiles and for damn sure, not her bed.

      

      Southern New Mexico was beautiful, full of exquisite little shops brimming with unique and very expensive items. Calli decided to hurt her credit card. Mega-shopping was an instant balm to her bruised feelings. Angel had vanished and although she decided it was just as well, giving herself time to get her act together, she actually missed his pesty brooding self. She’d had plenty of time to think about him and his invasion into her life. And why he’d bothered to bring her car back, clearly a gallant gesture, when he’d warned her not to trust him? She remembered the crude way he’d spoken to her, his matter-of-fact manner about the scene he played on her. And that’s exactly what it was, she thought. A scene. Designed and executed especially for her ohso-delicate constitution. A warning. He didn’t know her well enough to realize that it would take more than his less-than-subtle charm to send her packing.

      Sighing dispiritedly, Calli fingered a silk blouse and knew she trusted too easily. The nuns had taught her to see the best in everyone. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have insisted Daniel let her hire Rodrigez straight out of prison. Rodrigez had proven that his prison training was valuable and had become her number one chef. More importantly, though, it had shown she’d been right; there was good in the former armed robber. It was a break she could afford to give now and she understood how infrequently those came along Like Rodriguez, she had no family and since she was a child, had depended only on herself. Even under the care of very loving but strict nuns, she was always alone. Being a ward of the church until she was eighteen had its moments, albeit very few, but she’d never met anyone as enigmatic and ominous as Angel.

      She was attracted to him, by more than the quiet restrained power he exuded. And he scared her, his empty eyes, his vacant expressions. Sometimes, it was like no one lived behind those beautiful pale green eyes. Yet despite her fear, her lack of knowledge about men like him, she was drawn to him, as if only she could feel an invisible lure.

      Was it his secrets she found so intriguing? And what had Daniel said to him on the phone? They’d spoken before she entered the room, she was certain. Angel was hiding something. What it had to do with her was beyond comprehension. Or maybe it was as she’d first imagined, Daniel feeling protective and questioning him?

      She pushed open the door of a kitchen store and smiled. She was in heaven and moved from rack to shelf, seeking the odd gadget she might not already have in her own kitchen. She hadn’t worked in over a week, which meant she hadn’t cooked. And she wanted to test out a new recipe batting around in her head Finding nothing to sufficiently satisfy her buying spree, Call! settled for a red cobbler’s apron with the words I Cook, You Clean emblazoned in white. She laughed to herself. Who was going to clean up after her? She lived alone.

      Juggling the handles of four bags, Calli left the shop and immediately bumped into a man. She dropped one of her packages and bent to retrieve it just as he did. She thanked him, then straightened and stared into a pair of warm brown eyes “Gee, I’m glad I don’t have to pay for that loot,” he said, gesturing to her bags.

      Calli smiled. “I’ll hate myself when the bill comes, I just know it.” She started past him.“Thank you.”

      “You look like an expert shopper.” He paused and she waited for him to continue. “Think you could help me select something for my sister’s birthday?”

      Indecision creased her brow. “I don’t know...”

      “I’m afraid I’m a failure at getting her anything she doesn’t return.” His tone pleaded.

      Calli bit her lower lip. Harmless, she thought, we’ll be in public.

      “Clothes or jewelry?”

      Relieved, he chuckled to himself. “Find me a woman who can resist jewelry and I’ll marry her.”

      She looked him over, smiling. “Sorry, pal, you’ll have a long hunt,” she said, then gestured to her car. “Let me get rid of these.” Leaving her packages in the car, she liked that he kept his distance, remaining on the pathwalk to wait for her. She didn’t want this guy too close. Though he seemed nice enough, and in the past week she’d certainly hung out with people who were far more menacing, Angel’s warnings vibrated in her mind. Along with the memory of his touch. A soft smile bowed her lips as she walked back to him.

      “Something funny? You look, I don’t know—” he shrugged “—satisfied?”

      Not quite, she thought mischievously, but said, “It’s nothing.” She gestured up the walk. “I saw a wonderful Indian jewelry display up here.” He met her pace and made introductions on the way to the store. Braiden Murdock, engineer, businessman in town for the week, she discovered, and Calli mentally classed him in the “yuppie, financially stable, now-looking-for-a-wifebefore-he-got-too-old” department. Especially when he started the conversation with the “Are you married? Don’t you want a family?” lines. Like she was on a schedule?

      Minding her manners, in minutes Calli had the store owner displaying his creations for Braiden. Calli bought a pair of turquoise cufflinks for Daniel and earrings for herself. As the shopkeeper wrapped items and had them shipped for Braiden, he asked if he could repay her with lunch. Calli stared into his chocolate-brown eyes, thinking he was a gentle, considerate man and she would enjoy his company, but a voice whispering, He isn’t Angel, interrupted her thoughts. Extremely annoyed with the invasion, she agreed.

      A half hour later, she smiled at his wide-eyed look.

      “You’re a chef?”

      “Don’t look so surprised. Women can cook, or have you been sleeping for the past two thousand years?”

      He laughed quietly, leaning back in his chair and toying with his fork. “So. Give. Where can I try these culinary talents?”

      “London, Pans, Rome, New York, Dallas.” His brows wrinkled in confusion “Excalibur Confections,” she supplied.

      His eyes widened. “The pastries? The ones with the gold sword charm through their centers?”

      She nodded. Excalibur was the elite dessert, like Godiva was to chocolates, each dessert wrapped in gold-embossed paper. The gold sword charm was her idea. Customers needed a little pleasure, even after the last bit was gone.

      “I eat them whenever I can afford it.”

      She peered over the edge of the table at his stomach. “Not worried about fat or cholesterol, huh?”

      “I run to do penance for those goodies,” he said, gesturing for the waiter.

      Penance A Catholic boy, she thought. He paid the check and they left the restaurant. Discreetly, she stepped away from his touch at the small of her back and for an instant wondered why she’d let a guy like Ike paw her as if she were covered in fur, yet wouldn’t let Braiden lay a finger on her.