his scarred hand. “Will you take me on as a client and accompany me?”
As she waited for an answer, he hesitated as a firestorm of sensation raced up his arm. He cleared his throat. “Trent Associates can help you.”
Relief swept across her face. “I knew I made the right decision contacting you after all you did to keep Kristina safe.”
He’d been protecting socialite Kristina Worthington when he’d met Caroline in the course of his assignment. The two women were good friends. “Nice of you to think of me.”
The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile. Her gaze caressed his face, filling him with a fierce compulsion to gather her into his arms.
Uh-oh. He was pulling a Carlucci. He inhaled sharply, reining in his attraction. Not going to happen. Don was a professional. He played by the rules. Because doing so was the only way to guarantee any amount of success.
A few months back Trent had hired ex-Secret Service agent Anthony Carlucci. But during his first assignment—protecting the widow of a murdered U.S. senator—the guy up and fell in love with his protectee. As soon as she was safe, he’d proposed, and decided to go to work for the Department of Justice. Don’s boss, James Trent, had declared this a good thing for Trent Associates. Now they had a trusted contact in the D.O.J. to call on when needed.
Maybe.
But in Don’s book, Carlucci had crossed the line. He should have bowed out of the assignment the second he realized his feelings had turned personal. That would have been the right thing, the honorable thing, to do.
The second most important Rule of Protection—don’t get emotionally involved with clients. Doing so impaired judgment and put everyone involved in danger.
If he was already so easily distracted by Caroline then it was time for reinforcements.
“Stay here.” He rose from the sofa. “I’ll be right back.”
Don hustled upstairs and knocked on his boss’s door.
“Enter,” came James Trent’s muffled invitation.
Don stepped inside the large office. Natural light from the high, arched windows gleamed on the mahogany floor. James sat at his massive desk. Wiry and full of energy, he smiled and waved Don closer.
Rather than sit in the chair facing the desk, Don paced and quickly detailed Caroline’s predicament.
James steepled his hands, his elbows resting on the desk, making Don feel like an errant teen facing the principal.
“So what is your plan?”
Don cleared his throat and hardened his resolve. “Actually, sir, I was thinking it would be better if Simone or Jackie were assigned to Ms. Tully.”
Simone Walker was an ex-homicide detective for the Detroit Police Department, while Jackie Blain had been a deputy sheriff for some small Midwest town before moving to Boston and joining Trent Associates.
A crease appeared between James’s eyebrows. “Really? Why is that?”
Don hooked a finger in the collar of his gray sweater, needing a bit of the cold December air. “Their law-enforcement backgrounds would be useful in this situation.”
“If Ms. Tully wants a full-scale investigation she needs to go to the police or hire a private investigator,” James said.
“She’s already been to the police. What she wants now is protection on her trip to Mississippi.”
“Then you sound perfect for the job.”
The only way to arrange the best protection for Caroline was to be straightforward with James. “I have a prior history with Ms. Tully.”
“Oh?” James’s gaze narrowed, belying the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. “Do tell.”
“I met Ms. Tully last year while on assignment guarding Kristina Worthington. The two are close friends.”
“And?”
“There was…attraction.” She’d been the first woman in a long time to capture Don’s notice and make him yearn for something he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to have—a committed relationship.
“How long did you date?”
Don dropped his chin and stared at his boss. “She was part of an assignment, sir. We didn’t date.”
Though she’d given off signals suggesting she’d have been receptive to his attention.
“Ah.” A gleam entered James eyes. “Did she ask for you specifically today, or did you draw the short straw?”
Don swallowed, sensing a trap. “She asked for me, sir.”
Like a Cheshire cat, James smiled. “Then you’ll have to figure out how to put your personal attraction and feelings aside, because she obviously trusts you enough to ask for your help.”
“But, sir, she needs twenty-four-hour protection. I’m not a good fit for that.” Even as the words left his mouth he knew James would see through the bogus excuse. He’d provided around-the-clock security for numerous women and children. Just none who had made his heart pound or his blood race.
A droll look crossed James’s face. “Didn’t you say this woman is a friend of the Worthingtons? They’re very good clients.”
James stood and rounded the desk, halting to put a hand on Don’s shoulder. “You’ll do fine. You’re a professional. Though I must say it’s entertaining to finally see you a little flustered.”
Don opened his mouth to protest, but James was already walking toward the door.
“I’d like to meet Ms. Tully and assure her you’ll be taking her case,” James said before exiting.
Don sat for a moment, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. He’d come to James’s office intending to have someone else assigned to Caroline. For both their sakes.
Too bad his plan backfired. Big time.
Caroline glanced toward the staircase Don had quickly ascended. Would he take her on as a client?
Seeking help from Don had seemed like such a good idea when she was in the hospital yesterday, but now… The instant she’d seen him, she’d been flooded with overwhelming relief and something else—something close to a coming-home feeling that both astounded and confused her. She barely knew him, yet it had taken all her strength not to sink to the floor in a heap of relief beneath that big beautiful Christmas tree as soon as he came near. It was almost like a part of her knew she could relax, that she was safe with him. How strange to feel such trust for a man, especially one she barely knew. But now that he’d walked away, fear was returning.
She clasped her hands tightly together to still the evidence of the tremors racing along her limbs.
For so many years, she’d hoped and prayed that she’d someday find her family. But now her dream was turning into a nightmare. Who wanted her dead, and why? Was she truly in danger from her newfound family? How could she possibly face it without Don by her side?
Don appeared pretty much as she remembered. The same honey-blond hair cut short around his ears and collar and a little longer on top. Same tall, muscular frame that made him look like he could carry the weight of the world and not be bothered by the load. The dove-gray sweater he wore so well emphasized his broad shoulders.
His eyes drew her in as before, too. Inviting liquid pools of teal reflecting the firelight from the hearth.
She wanted to melt into his gaze and forget the past few days. Not a good idea. She wasn’t looking for a romance, had no intention of putting her heart at risk again. Even with Don, a man whom she hadn’t been able to forget this past year. She only needed Don to protect her.
Acutely aware