Bound to the Bachelor (10 page)

“I don’t think it’ll bruise. You’re lucky he missed your eye.”

“I should buy a lottery ticket while my luck’s this good.” She’d meant for it to come out blasé, as though she had a grip on things, but her voice quivered with suppressed emotion.

“Here.” He handed her the make shift ice pack and she pressed it to her cheek. “Do you have anything to drink?”

The cold pack on her face felt so good it took her a moment to register what he’d asked. “Um. I think there’s a bottle of wine in the fridge. And there’s beer, if you want one.”

“It’s not for me. Don’t you have anything stronger?”

“I don’t need anything to drink.” Just to make a liar out of her, the trembling throughout her body graduated to outright shivering, making her teeth chatter.

He glanced around. “This your bedroom?”

Before she could respond, he ducked through the doorway, reappearing seconds later with her fuzzy bath robe. “Put this on.” He held the garment, his expression uncompromising.

She didn’t bother arguing, setting the cold pack aside for a moment while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. The soft fabric settled around her, enveloping her in instant warmth.

“I’m making tea,” he announced.

“Is there any point me asking you not to?”

“No.”

She settled on the arm of the couch, cold pack against her cheek, and watched through the kitchen doorway as he looked for tea making paraphernalia, opening and shutting drawers and cupboards at random.

“Top right cupboard for mugs,” she said. “The teabags are in the canister on the bench.”

“Sugar?”

“I don’t take sugar.”

“You do today.”

He found the sugar himself, in the little jar next to the tea canister. A few minutes later, he brought a steaming mug to her.

“I really am okay.” It was almost true. Now that the shock of Darren’s attack was starting to wear off, her brain was starting to work again.

“Humor me,” he said, and she took the tea.

The first mouthful burned all the way down, the second filled her belly with warmth. She wrapped her hands around the warm mug and felt the tremors begin to ease.

“If you haven’t seen this guy in fourteen years, why is he suddenly on your doorstep, trying to hurt you?” Beau asked.

“My stepfather died a few months ago, and he left me money in his will. Darren seems to think it all should have gone to him.”

“This is the inheritance you mentioned last week?”

“Yes.”

“So how did your stepbrother find you?”

“He said the lawyers gave him my address.”

Beau frowned. “What’s his name?”

He pulled out his phone, ready to make a note on it.

“Darren Pascoe.”

“Originally from?”

“Seattle, Washington.”

He flicked her a look. “Is that we’re you’re from, too?”

She nodded.

“You said you hadn’t seen him for fourteen years. Why was that?”

“I left home.” The tea was finished. She leaned forward and set the empty mug on the coffee table.

“At, what, fifteen? Sixteen?” Beau didn’t seem too impressed by the information.

“Sixteen.”

“And you didn’t have any contact with your family afterward?”

“That’s right.”

He stared at her, his blue eyes full of questions, and for the first time in her life she felt the urge to simply spill it all out—Luther, her mother, the attack, the first terrifying year when she’d been homeless… she’d shared details with Andie and Molly, but no one knew the full story. Lily had never wanted to expose herself so fully. So completely. Yet right now, the compulsion to simply lay it all at Beau’s feet was a pressure in the back of her throat and chest.

She bit her lip, denying the impulse. Beau didn’t need to hear her sad, sordid little story. He was just being helpful, like the good guy he was.

“I’ll ask around, see what I can find on him,” Beau said, filling the silence between them. “In the meantime, I’m going to put a guy on you. He’ll keep a watch on your place, make sure it’s safe when you come and go.”

“What? No. I can’t let you do that.”

“He knows where you live, Lily. What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t turned up?”

She swallowed as she remembered the cold fury in Darren’s face and the shocking power of his slap.

“The security on this place is a joke,” Beau said. “Anyone can get into the building. You want to open your door and find him waiting for you? You want to get out of your car at night and worry about him coming at you?”

His words painted vivid word pictures in her head, and as much as she hated to give in to fear, she knew he was talking sense. Darren had not only threatened her, he’d attacked her, all within the space of a couple of minutes. One of the most terrifying things about the whole ordeal was how quickly it had escalated, how much he seemed to want to hurt her.

“He was always so quiet as a kid,” she said. “I mean, we weren’t friends, we never really got close… but I never thought he’d turn out so much like Luther.”

Beau was already typing a text into his phone. Lily reached out and covered his hand.

“I don’t want a guard,” she said.

“Tough luck.”

“It’s too expensive, Beau. How much would you charge a client for that kind of protection? Hundreds, maybe thousands a week?”

He didn’t flinch. “Consider it part of your auction win.”

“It’s incredibly generous, but I’m not your responsibility,” she said firmly.

She couldn’t take that kind of help from Beau. Her pride wouldn’t let her. There had to be some other way to handle this situation.

“He’s not going to just let this go, Lily.”

“I’ll call Andie, ask if I can stay with her and Heath for a few days. And I’ll talk to Toby about some kind of protection order.”

The frown creasing Beau’s brow eased a little. “A piece of paper isn’t going to stop him if he comes at you again.”

“I’ll work something out. Like I said, this isn’t your problem.”

He brushed her assertion away with an impatient gesture. “You ever done any self-defense? Karate? Kick-boxing?”

“Do I look like I know how to kick-box?” Her weapon of choice had always been her tongue.

Water dripped down her wrist, and she eased the cold pack from her cheek. The hot, angry sensation had diminished considerably.

“How is it?” Beau asked, momentarily distracted.

“Better. Thanks for the corn.”

“Come to the bunker tomorrow, and I’ll show you some key moves.”

It took her a second to work out “the bunker” was a reference to Copper Mountain Security’s cinderblock headquarters.

“What sort of moves?” she asked, skeptical. The two times she’d been monstered by men in her life, she’d been outclassed in both strength and weight. She couldn’t imagine anything Beau could show her that would fend off a determined man the size of Luther or Darren.

“You know the right places to hit, you can do a lot of damage,” Beau said.

“Even against someone built like a refrigerator?”

“You land the right blow, you could take me down, no problems,” he said.

She blinked. The man was solid muscle, and fit enough to be a Navy Seal.

“If we’re talking about kneeing someone in the balls, I know how to do that already.”

“One o’clock tomorrow, at the bunker. It’s that or I put someone on you until Toby can get a bead on this guy.”

His jaw was set, his shoulders square. He wasn’t going to move on this.

“Okay, fine. If you want to waste an afternoon…”

“I never waste my time.” He glanced toward her bedroom. “You want to pack while I call Andie?”

Under normal circumstances, Lily would have taken exception to him taking charge so unequivocally. She would have pushed back, told him to mind his own business, assured him she could sort out things with Andie on her own. Right now, though, she was grateful for his solid presence and cool, determined head.

“That would be good. Thanks, Beau.” She started for her bedroom, then swiveled back to face him. “Can I ask – what made you come back?”

Because Beau had driven off almost immediately after she’d left his car.

“You stepped back when he approached you. I figured he wasn’t welcome.”

She stared at him. “I don’t remember doing that.”

The urge to retreat must have been pure instinct, driven by some deep inner knowledge the man approaching her wished her harm.

“Sometimes our bodies know stuff our brains haven’t worked out yet.”

“Well, thanks for coming back and saving my ass.”

Tugging her robe more tightly around her, she headed for her bedroom to start to pack.

‡

L
ily wasn’t far
from Beau’s thoughts for the rest of the day.

She’d been so pale, so shaken, and the image of her slim body huddled in her oversized robe kept slipping into his mind. That, and the frozen moment when her attacker had hauled back and slapped her across the face. He’d been twenty feet away, already moving fast, but he’d lost it a little when he saw her head rock back and heard her gasp of pain.

Years of training and discipline had been the only thing that stopped him from pounding her stepbrother into mincemeat on the spot – that, and the burning need to ensure she was okay.

He checked in with his sister later in the evening, exchanging a couple of text messages to confirm Lily was still doing all right. Andie reported Lily was making jokes and talking trash, and that she’d eaten a full meal. All good signs, he figured.

He wasn’t entirely satisfied with the compromise they’d come to regarding her immediate safety, but when push came to shove, he couldn’t force a bodyguard on her. He had no status in her life. They weren’t even friends. His only comfort was the knowledge it was unlikely Darren Pascoe had the resources or know-how to work out where Lily might seek sanctuary in Marietta. Andie and Heath’s house, just out of town, was a good place for Lily to stay while Beau looked into her stepbrother’s background and history.

The first thing he’d done after seeing Lily safely off to his sister’s had been to head over to the bunker to run a background check on Pascoe. What he’d found hadn’t been reassuring. The guy had a string of juvenile offenses to his name, most of them involving controlled substances and petty theft. As an adult, he’d done two short stretches for possession.

No wonder he wanted money. There wasn’t enough detail on the reports he had ready access to for Beau to pinpoint the specific flavor of Pascoe’s drug problem, but given the general tenor of his rap sheet, Beau figured him for a meth user. Not the greatest news. He was no expert, but he’d had a couple of run-ins with meth heads around the shopping mall he was contracted to protect in Bozeman, and they’d been both unpredictable and violent.

If Lily’s stepbrother was wound up enough to leap on her within seconds of initiating contact, it didn’t bode well for his state of mind.

Beau had a short conversation with Toby first thing Sunday morning and was pleased to learn Lily had already called to ask for advice. Toby was meeting with her on Monday during her lunch break to go over her options. Beau passed on what he’d discovered about Pascoe, and Toby promised to do some checking of his own. If Pascoe were staying in town, it shouldn’t be too hard to find him and have a quiet, serious word about playing nice – or, preferably, rethinking his decision to be in Marietta full stop.

Beau headed into the bunker afterward and spent the morning working his way through the pile of emails in his inbox and the incident reports that had come through overnight. He made note of the things he needed to follow up come Monday, then spent a couple of hours putting together comprehensive quotes for prospective customers. When he’d started out five years ago, it had been just him and a handful of guys he trusted – some local, some imports who’d served with him in the Marines. These days, he had more than a hundred people on the payroll, and a roster of clients as long as his arm. That kind of success bred more success, he’d discovered. The firm had high visibility with so many Copper Mountain Security cars out on patrol, and they’d been growing steadily month-on-month, year-on-year. So much so, he was going to have to seriously consider taking on a second in command in the near future. That, or promote one of his guys into the position.

He was pondering the options when his phone buzzed with a text message. It was Lily.

Want to let me in? There are dogs frozen to lamp posts out here.

He checked the time – sure enough, it was one. Time flew when he had too much to do.

He made his way to reception, quickly crossing to the front entrance. Lily rushed past him the moment he opened the door, stomping her feet and shaking out her bare hands. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, her face bare of makeup. Her body was muffled in a knee-length puffy coat that he recognized as his sister’s.

“Thank God. I was knocking for ages.”

“Sorry. I should probably install an intercom for after hours.” He scanned her face, looking for signs of bruising, but it appeared she’d escaped yesterday’s attack unscathed.

Physically, anyway. He’d dealt with enough high octane, high adrenaline situations to know sometimes the true repercussions came long after the actual incident.