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Authors: Sharon Hartley

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BOOK: Accidental Bodyguard
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You just gotta love the polite drivers in south Florida.

But that was the whole idea. No other vehicle stayed with them. He'd left and reentered the Turnpike at three separate exits to make certain. No one had followed them. Of course he'd swept his SUV for bugs.

He'd gotten Claudia away clean.

By now the Warriors had likely found her sunken vehicle, and would double back to Collins Island. But Lola had tripled security. With the new boat patrol, Romero's men wouldn't easily gain access. If the Protection Alliance had problems they couldn't handle, Lola would contact the US Attorney's Office and alert them to the situation. Once in Dunnellon, Claudia would contact the prosecutor and let him know she was okay—just not her location.

He still considered that a mistake. Claudia would be safer under the protection of the federal government, but his plan was a good one. It could work. Should work.

He drove to the far side of the service plaza's parking lot, parked and jumped out to surveil any vehicles that exited after them. The gun holster under his jacket comforted him as he raised his binoculars to scrutinize the vehicles entering the plaza.

No vehicle looked familiar. No one had followed them from Miami. But he'd wait ten minutes just to be certain.

Behind him, the SUV's rear door popped open, and Jack whirled to see Claudia's leg swing over the bumper. Couldn't the woman follow instructions? She knew to wait for the all clear from him. Why did she—

She lost her balance, and he rushed forward to catch her before she hit the pavement. Their gazes locked, and he read desperation in her eyes. He evaluated her pale, tear-streaked face and understood. She'd reached some kind of a limit. She'd had no choice but to climb out of her prison once they had stopped.

“I've got you,” he told her. “You're okay.”

She swallowed and nodded.

“Get into the backseat. Lie down.”

She took a step, but faltered again. He grabbed her arms to support her.

“My legs are asleep,” she said. “I've been in a cramped position too long.”

Jack carried her to the backseat, closed the door and again checked the area. All clear.

Convinced they were good to go, he opened the backseat door and leaned in. Claudia lay on her side, eyes wide open, staring out the window.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Better now that I can see the sky. Can I sit up?”

“Yeah, we're clear. Nobody followed us.” Jack extended his arm to help.

She blew out a breath when she was upright. “Thanks.”

“You need to know we're in Homestead, not Pompano Beach.”

“Why is that?” Her voice sounded sharp, suspicious. She narrowed her eyes on his face.

“A bit of misdirection.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to go inside the plaza to the ladies' room. I'll point out the surveillance cameras, and you need to make sure your face is captured. Don't be too obvious, but walk back and forth, move slowly, find some reason to linger in front of the lens.”

“Because Carlos's people have the ability to hack into the security feed.”

“The Warriors are known for their tech team. They're going to look hard for you, and this is a ploy to slow them down.”

She nodded. “Got it.”

“I'll purchase something for us to eat on the road, and I'm going to gas up. This vehicle has a five-hundred-mile range. Once we leave here, we'll only stop for one bathroom break. I know a rest area where there are no cameras. Then we're not stopping again until we reach my cabin. The only images of you will be right here and, because of that, they'll look south.”

Jack was relieved to see Claudia smile for the first time since emerging from the locker.

“You thought of everything, didn't you?” she said.

“I doubt it. You okay to walk yet?”

She rotated her ankles. “I think so.”

He held out his arm to assist her down from the seat. “Let's get started. I want to make it to Dunnellon by 8:00 p.m.”

Claudia clung to his arm as they walked toward the plaza structure. She'd had a rough time in the locker. She was trying to soldier on, pretend she was okay, but maybe they should talk about what had happened to her during the drive. Women liked to discuss their emotions, right? Might make her feel better.

And he'd like to make her feel better. It bothered him to see her this subdued, so miserable, especially when it was his idea. Even if it couldn't be helped.

Jack glanced down at her troubled face and wondered when he'd developed such a protective attitude about Claudia. Wasn't like him. Definitely not professional to feel that way about a client, even on a pro bono job. Where was his usual detachment?

Worse, he'd experienced a flush of pleasure when she said he'd thought of everything, like some hormonal teenaged athlete praised by his girlfriend after a big game. He knew it was impossible to account for every eventuality that could go wrong. Some new twist could always screw up a plan. He needed to remember that, keep looking for that curve ball, keep his head on straight.

If he allowed himself to care too much about Claudia, get too close, he'd get careless. If he got careless, they were both headed for certain disaster.

CHAPTER TEN

W
HEN
THEY
WERE
back on the road, Jack set the cruise control for seventy-five. Claudia remained quiet beside him. She'd retreated to some personal space to lick her wounds, and he let her stay there. They both had plenty to obsess about. Better if he kept his mind off her and alert for trouble, anyway.

They agreed on an oldies radio station, but neither of them listened to the tunes. He paid more attention to her than he should, but she just stared out the window, often twirling her hair.

To keep them alert, he'd purchased two extra-large cups of strong coffee. Claudia didn't touch hers. His had gone cold by the time he took the last swallow.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “We missed breakfast, and I've got sandwiches.”

She shifted her gaze from the road to him. “Not really.”

“You should eat,” he said. “There's a choice of turkey, ham or tuna fish. Plus chips.”

She shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Whatever, huh? Love your enthusiasm.”

“Well, pardon me.”

“Would you mind grabbing me a sandwich so I can eat? I'm starved.”

“Oh. Sure.” She reached for the bag he'd placed on the floorboard. “You sure bought a lot of food.”

“I wasn't sure what you'd want,” Jack said. “So I got two of each. Give me turkey if you can find one.”

When she unwrapped the plastic covering, the enticing fragrance of fresh bread and tangy pickle wafted into the SUV, making Jack even hungrier. She placed the cut sandwich close to him on the console. He finished the first half in three bites.

Claudia gave a little laugh, which made Jack feel far better than the food.

“I guess you
were
hungry,” she said.

“Still am,” he said, and scarfed the other half.

She mumbled something that sounded like, “My gladiator.”

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She rummaged through the bag. “Maybe my appetite has returned.”

Pleased that she'd roused herself enough to take nourishment, Jack said, “I'll take another. Make it ham this time, please, ma'am.”

“Yes, sir.”

Claudia opened a bag of chips, dumped a few beside his second sandwich and then opened another sandwich for herself. They ate in silence, although she barely nibbled on her food. Not such a great appetite, after all.

“Something wrong with the tuna?” he asked.

“No. It's fine.”

When he'd finished his second sandwich, Jack sighed. It would be a long trip if she brooded the whole way. And they'd be spending a lot of time together for the next few weeks. His one-bedroom cabin in the woods was a long way from a spacious villa on Collins Island. And it only had one bed.

That was a problem he'd yet to figure out.

So why not enjoy a little time between the sheets with her? Claudia wouldn't object. It would only be sex, a release for both of them, right?

Wrong. He had to curtail that kind of thinking pronto. He needed to keep his distance.

But he liked Claudia, enjoyed the challenge of figuring her out. They could be friends, right?

Friends? Who was he kidding? He wanted to rip off her clothes every time he saw her.

“You want to tell me what's wrong?” he asked.

“Seriously?” She shot him a look. “Where do you want me to begin?”

“How about with what happened to you inside that locker.”

She rewrapped her sandwich and placed it back inside the paper bag. “Have you ever been locked inside a small dark space?”

“You weren't locked. But, yeah, I experienced something similar once when I was a cop. It's no fun.”

“Well, I went a little crazy. I wanted to jump out en route.”

“But you didn't,” he said.

“But I came close.” She gave a visible shudder. “I could have killed you or other people.”

“I doubt it. I half expected you to do something strange.”

“I had a panic attack.” She spit out the words as if they burned her mouth. “But I never panic. I've always prided myself on being levelheaded. That's why I'm a good nurse.”

Levelheaded? Jack didn't reply. Considering some of Claudia's crazy ideas, that wasn't the first trait he thought of in connection with her.

“So what's wrong,” she continued, “is I don't know who I am anymore, and that's scaring me as much as Carlos's thugs.”

“So you reinvent yourself,” he said. “You'll be stronger on the other side of the ordeal.”

“Easy for you to say. You're not the one being hunted by terrorists.” She again lapsed into hair twirling.

Jack didn't reply, but he did know about trial by fire and coming out on the other side stronger.

“And you know what,” she said. “I liked who I was. What if I'm never able to work as a nurse again?” Claudia sighed. “I'm not good with change. I guess that makes me inflexible, another unpleasant thing I've learned about myself.”

Change could definitely be hard. Considering how he'd altered the trajectory of his career—make that his entire life—a few years ago, he understood her point. And now he was about to revisit his old stomping grounds, something he swore he'd never do.

“So you were a cop?” Claudia asked.

“Deputy sheriff with Marion County.”

“Why did you quit?”

“That's a long story.”

* * *

C
LAUDIA
SHIFTED
IN
the seat to face him. “We've got hours of driving ahead of us.”

“Maybe I'll tell you someday.”

“Ah. You don't like to talk about that. Why?”

When he shrugged, she knew he wasn't going to tell her. So Jack had secrets, too. For some bizarre reason, that made her feel better. Mr. Gladiator wasn't perfect, after all. But he definitely knew how to take care of himself. And her. She still marveled at his ploy of driving south to confuse Carlos's people. She'd have never thought of parading back and forth in view of the surveillance cameras.

Could she trust Jack?

Maybe. So far—from rushing to save her from the intruding pool guy to smuggling her off the island—Jack had done nothing but try to protect her.

But her marriage to Carlos had been such a disaster, and he'd filled her mind with such paranoid poison, she didn't trust her own judgment anymore. How could she?

Maybe Carlos was wrong. Maybe everyone didn't have an angle. Maybe Jack was an exception.

As Claudia studied his chiseled face, the tension in her belly relaxed slightly. He appeared totally absorbed in controlling the SUV. One thing was for sure, this man was definitely easy to look at. Even better, as Marsali would probably say, he wasn't purely decorative. He possessed skills. Skills that she wanted to learn. Needed to learn.

She couldn't depend on her gladiator for the rest of her life. She needed to learn how to take care of herself.

“Marsali said you're a martial arts expert,” Claudia said.

“I wouldn't say I'm an expert.”

“She said you're a black belt. That's pretty good.”

He tossed her an interested glance. “So?”

“So I want you to teach me how to defend myself.”

“You plan on doing hand-to-hand combat with the Warriors?”

Claudia felt her face grow warm and realized her idea sounded ridiculous to him. “Only if I have to. Knowing a few moves would make me feel better.”

He nodded, refocused on the road. “I get that, but at this point they won't allow you to get close enough. These guys are cowards at their core. If they locate you, it's more likely a sniper will take you out. Or a bomb.”

“Thanks for that cheery thought.”

“I'm just being honest.”

“Of course you are.”

He shot her a quick pointed glare. “Like I need you to stay honest with me.”

“You know everything about me.”

“I hope so.”

“But I'm so tired of feeling like a victim,” she said.

“I'll give you lessons in self-defense if you want, but expect a few bruises. The only way to learn is by doing. You'll be tossed around a lot—until you can toss me.”

Toss Jack? She returned her gaze to his impressive physique and doubted that could ever happen. “Sounds like a good time.”

He nodded. “I'll rig a mat so it won't hurt so much. However, in my opinion your time would be better spent becoming proficient with that Glock.”

She liked that idea.

“You brought it, right?” Jack asked. “Is it loaded?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Can you teach me how to hit what I'm shooting at?”

“All it takes is practice, and we should have plenty of time for that. I'm not planning on leaving the property once we lay in groceries.”

“What about ammunition?”

“I brought plenty.”

“Won't we need to go to a gun range?”

“No. As you'll see when we arrive.”

What the hell did that mean? Claudia realized she didn't know much about where they were going. He'd said a city in north Florida she'd never heard of, but she had been too agitated to ask for any details.

“Tell me about this cabin.”

Jack rubbed his neck. “Well, it's no Collins Island mansion. One bedroom, one bath, small kitchen in the middle of fifty acres of forest.”

One bedroom? So she'd be sleeping with Jack every night. That thought created a pleasant tingle in her belly. Disgusted with her reaction, she closed her eyes. Had she learned nothing from the past? Was she nothing but a giant mass of hormones?

Now was definitely not the time to become involved with any man. Especially Jack. Surely there was a sofa for her to use.

“Sounds great,” she said.

“No TV reception,” he warned.

“What?” Claudia squeaked.

“No one has lived there for over three years, and we don't want to alert anyone to our presence if we can help it. I have a DVD player and some old movies, plus I can set up a hot spot for internet access.”

Like she could go online. “What about phone?”

“No landline, but I have my cell phone.”

“So we'll be totally isolated.”

“Isn't that what you want, what you tried to arrange at Villa Alma?”

“Not exactly.”

Couldn't he see how different this situation would be? She'd be stuck all alone without a car in the middle of nowhere with a man she barely knew. A man she wanted to trust but hadn't quite gotten there yet, probably never would. A man who could break her in half without breaking a sweat. Oh, and she'd actually invited him to practice his skills on her. He'd even warned her about the possibility of bruises.

Maybe worst of all, she was so turned on by this stranger, this way-too-sexy gladiator, she'd been thrilled to learn there was only one bedroom.

Jack laughed softly. “It's only for three weeks, Claudia. Think of all the studying you can get done.”

* * *

C
LAUDIA
JERKED
AWAKE
when Jack turned onto a gravel road. Listening to rocks crunch beneath the vehicle's huge tires, she struggled to awareness, escaping a nightmare where she'd remarried Carlos Romero.

The SUV's wipers swept back and forth across the windshield. Rain pounded on the roof. Headlights illuminated a narrow road full of potholes, but darkness pressed in on all sides. Huge trees loomed overhead, ghostly branches illuminated by lightning, thrashing in a stiff wind.

“Where are we?” she asked, noting they ascended a gentle hill.


Casa
de Jack,” he said.

So they'd arrived. The right front tire dipped into a huge hole, and she struggled to sit up in her seat. “Are you sure we're not in the Sea of Tranquility?” she muttered.

“Where?”

“You know, the craters of the moon? Never mind. What time is it?”

“Just after eight.”

“Wow. I guess I fell asleep.”

“I guess,” Jack said.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to.”

He shrugged. “You needed the rest. You were getting a lot of exercise worrying about the lack of TV.”

“Very funny. You're the one who didn't get much sleep last night. I should have helped drive.”

“I'm good.”

Claudia sighed as she stared at the narrow path ahead. She needed to start doing her share of the work on this journey. “When did it start raining?”

“As soon as we left I-95. Another cold front is sweeping through the state.”

“I thought we were going to stop for groceries.”

“I decided to wait out the storm. Or the better plan might be for me to go alone tomorrow. We've still got sandwiches if we get hungry tonight.”

Or maybe he was too exhausted to go into a grocery store now. Jack probably longed for a bed.

When the SUV headlights swept across the facade of a small one-story structure, Jack cursed and slammed on the brakes, rocking her forward against her seat belt even though they'd barely crept along the gravel road. He shut down the headlights.

“What's wrong?” she demanded.

“There's a light on inside the cabin.”

Jack stared at his property, evaluating its appearance and the logistics of his approach. To the left, a large plastic garbage can stood upright, overflowing with trash. He'd left that garbage container inside a storage shed so it wouldn't blow away. Someone had been living here a good while.

Every time windshield wipers cleared rain from the glass, he focused on the light through the closed curtain waiting for movement. There. A shadowy figure crossed the opening.

Someone was inside.

The question was who and how many.

“I thought you said no one lived here,” Claudia said in a hoarse, frightened whisper.

“No one is supposed to be here.”

BOOK: Accidental Bodyguard
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