Vulnerable: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 1) (49 page)

“I need time to think about this.”

“There isn’t much time. Dr. Prakash has said you can be released this evening,” Shane told her. “I want to take you home with me tonight. You can’t go back to the townhouse. You wouldn’t be able to negotiate the stairs. Besides, the townhouse isn’t safe.”

“What about Gabrielle? If it’s not safe for me, it’s not safe for her either.” Beth shifted on the bed and gasped at the stabbing pain in her side. Of all her injuries, it was her ribs that was causing her the most problems. Shane was right. She couldn’t walk across the room on her own right now, let alone take care of herself at home. She wouldn’t be able to go up and down the stairs. Gabrielle had to work; she couldn’t just stay home for days to take care of Beth.

“Don’t worry about Gabrielle,” he said. “I’ll move her to the penthouse.”

Shane sat watching Beth, not saying a word. He was used to simply telling people what to do, and they did it. Now he had a girlfriend to contend with, which was a novel experience for him. He’d had plenty of women, and they’d all tended to cater to him. But he’d never had a girlfriend before – especially one with a stubborn streak.

He bit back a chuckle. He fully intended that she would be coming home with him that evening; he just thought it would go more smoothly if she thought it was her decision. And if she flat-out refused to come home with him, then he’d have to move in with her in her townhouse. There was no way in hell he was letting her go anywhere without him.

“You’re right,” she said. “I can’t go home. I wouldn’t be able to go up and down the stairs on my own.”

“Stairs aren’t a problem at my house,” he said quietly. “There are elevators.”

“You have elevators in your house?” she said, incredulous. “Plural?”

He nodded. “Two.”

Beth shook her head in disbelief.

“Your mom can come stay with us, too, if you want. Or Gabrielle,” he offered, playing one of his wildcards. “Whatever you want. It’s a big place. There’s plenty of room.”

“All right,” she said, rolling her eyes. The bottom line was she couldn’t take care of herself at home, at least for the short term. “I’ll come. Just until my injuries are healed.”

Chapter 43

“You’re free to go, sweetheart,” Shane said, as he strode into Beth’s hospital room. “Dr. Prakash signed your discharge paperwork.”

Beth was dressed and seated in one of the guest chairs.

“It’s about time,” Lia said, hopping down from the window sill. “This place blows.”

“I’ll get the car,” Cooper said, heading for the door.

Shane and Lia walked with Beth as a hospital staff member wheeled her down to the front entrance. When they got there, Cooper was waiting outside the entrance with the Mercedes.

Shane helped Beth transfer from the wheelchair into the back seat of the sedan. Then he walked around to the other side to climb in beside her. Lia rode up front with Cooper.

As they headed north on Lake Shore Drive, Beth leaned back into the soft leather seats and watched out her window for glimpses of Lake Michigan. Water stretched out to the horizon as far as the eye could see.

“You like the water, don’t you?” Shane said, watching her as she watched the lake.

Beth nodded. “When I was little, Tyler and my mom would bring me to the beach, and I’d play for hours in the sand, building sand forts and hunting for shells.”

“My house is right on the lake,” he said. “There’s a private dock with several boats. I’d love to take you out on the lake when you’re feeling better. There’s also a private beach; you can hunt for shells and build sand forts to your heart’s content.”

Beth regarded her cast. “I won’t be playing in the sand for the next six-to-eight weeks at least.”

She went back to staring out the window, watching the water, watching the smaller boats as they came into the marinas and navigated to their berths. Watching the boats helped her keep her mind off Andrew Morton. One minute she’d be fine, and the next she’d remember the sight of his boot coming right at her face and she’d flinch. She couldn’t stop the instant replays. Her pulse picked up, and she grabbed hold of the arm rest.

“What’s wrong, Beth? Talk to me,” Shane said, his voice low. He reached across her to peel her fingers off the door handle and interlaced them with his.

She looked at him, her eyes tearing up. “Everything just feels so... surreal,” she said. “Ever since... Andrew. It happened so fast. One minute I was fine, and then he – I can’t stop thinking about it. I keep seeing it over and over in my head.”

Shane released his seat belt and shifted closer to Beth, putting his arm around her. He tried to pull her close, and at first she resisted, far too tense to relax, but eventually she leaned into him. He felt her silent tears as they wet his shirt.

“I keep ruining your shirts,” she muttered, pulling back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“That’s all right. You’ve had one hell of a week, sweetheart,” he said. He looked up and caught Lia’s concerned expression from the front seat. “It’ll be better soon,” he said. “I promise.”

Beth was shaking now, as if all the adrenalin in her system had crashed and her body was responding by going into shock.

She closed her eyes and pressed her wet face into his shirt, the fabric soaking up her tears like the thirsty ground soaks up rain. His scent permeated her consciousness, a tantalizing combination of warm male skin and something else, something elusive, maybe his cologne. Shane’s hand was in her hair, gently stroking, and it felt so good. She closed her eyes and let the motion of the car lull her to sleep.

When the car slowed, Beth lifted her face and looked around. They were on a quiet, residential street. At least she assumed it was a residential area, as they passed the occasional lamp post and mailbox.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“We’re in Kenilworth,” he said. “My house is just down this road.”

Through gaps in the trees, she caught fleeting glimpses of huge houses set well back from the road, with acres and acres of lush green woods and lawns in front.

After another mile, Cooper slowed the car and turned onto an unmarked two-lane road. When they came to a towering wrought iron gate, Beth realized it was a private lane.

Cooper stopped the car at the gate.

“Good evening, Mr. Cooper,” said a disembodied man’s voice over the car’s speaker system. It was a smooth, deep voice.

“Charlie, open the gate,” Cooper said.

“Welcome home, Mr. McIntyre, Miss Jamison,” the voice said. “Miss Lia.”

“Cut the theatrics, Charlie, and open the damned gate already,” Cooper said.

Almost instantly, the gate began to move, swinging inward in a wide arc. Cooper drove through the opening and continued along the drive. Beth glanced back and watched as the gate swung shut behind them.

They must have driven for another half mile or so as the lane carved its way through the thick woods. As they exited the trees, the landscape on both sides of the road opened up to lush pastures.

They came to a second gate, just like the first one, and again Cooper stopped the car.

“Driving a bit fast this evening, Mr. Cooper?” said the voice through the car speakers. “You made the second checkpoint eight seconds early.”

Beth chuckled, earning a dirty look from Cooper in the rear view mirror.

“Are you tired of your job, Charlie?” Cooper replied.

“No, sir.” The gate promptly swung open.

They continued along for a few more minutes, passing a small lake surrounded by cattails waving in the breeze and inhabited by a multitude of ducks and geese paddling around in wild abandon. A half-dozen Adirondack chairs were positioned on a long floating dock that extended over the water. A number of small boats were tied at the dock, including canoes and kayaks, a rowboat, and even a tiny catamaran.

“Can we go canoeing?” Beth asked Shane.

“That depends. Can you swim?”

She chuckled. “Are you kidding? Tyler wouldn’t let me get within ten feet of the water until I’d passed all of the Red Cross swimming classes at our rec center. I’m a certified lifeguard.”

“Really?” he said.

Beth elbowed him. “Yes, really. Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Then, yes,” he said. “You can go canoeing. And if I fall in and get knocked unconscious, I expect you to save me.”

Beth turned her gaze forward just as the lane merged with a wide, circular drive in front of the house. In the center of the drive was a towering water fountain rising up from a white marble pool.

“Oh, my God,” she said, her right hand grasping Shane’s thigh as she leaned forward to gape through the front windshield at the massive structure in front of them. “I thought you said this was a house!” she said, staring. “This isn’t a house; it’s huge!”

He chuckled. “It’s not that big.”

“How many bedrooms are there?” she said.

“Twelve.”

“It reminds me of a ski lodge I stayed in with Mom and Tyler once, in Aspen.”

Cooper followed the circular drive and parked in front of the wide, wooden steps that led up to the main entrance. Shane got out and walked around to open Beth’s door.

“Welcome home,” he said, and then he leaned in and kissed her lightly on her lips. “Fair warning... there are some folks here who are dying to meet you.”

Just as he said that, the front doors opened and out walked a tall, sturdy man. He was dressed in muddy thigh-high boots and coveralls, his face deeply weathered and his silver hair cut in a severe flat top. Right on the man’s heels was an exuberant, young Black Lab, prancing as he followed the tall man out of the house.

“Gus, sit,” the man said, and the puppy dropped like a stone onto its haunches, although its tail continued wagging with tremendous enthusiasm. “Good boy.”

The man walked down the front steps to the side of the car and peered inside at Beth. “Please to meet you, Miss Jamison,” he said, dipping his head.

“Sweetheart, this is George Peterson. He’s the foreman. He manages the property.”

“Hello, Mr. Peterson,” Beth said.

The man’s wrinkled, craggy face was instantly transformed by a wide, welcoming smile. “Welcome, young lady,” he said. “And you can call me George.”

A woman with long hair, a mix of silver and white strands, with keen dark eyes stepped outside and walked down the front steps to the car. She wore a white beaded peasant blouse over a pair of slender gray trousers and a pair of scuffed brown riding boots. She glanced down at the small crowd gathering around Beth’s open car door, her gaze eventually coming to light on Beth.

“This is Elly,” Shane said. “George’s wife. She runs the house.”

Elly Peterson walked up to the open car door and looked at Beth, frowning as she studied Beth’s face. “My God, who did this to her?” the woman said in a quiet voice, glancing sharply at  Shane.

“He’d better be behind bars,” George said, straightening to his full height.

“He is,” Shane said, as he lifted Beth out of the car.

Elly smiled at Beth. “Come inside, darling,” she said, reaching out to pat Beth’s cast.

Shane carried Beth through the open doorway into a spacious, well-lit foyer with a soaring ceiling. A curving, wooden staircase let up to a second-floor balcony.

“I’m taking her straight up to bed,” Shane said to Elly. “She’s exhausted.” Shane walked across the foyer and pressed a button on the wall. Immediately, a paneled door slid open revealing an elevator car.

Chapter 44

“Here’s our room,” Shane said, coming to a closed door at the end of the second floor hallway. He opened the door and carried Beth inside.

Her eyes swept the neat, masculine room. It wasn’t nearly as big as his suite at his Lake Shore apartment, but it was nonetheless impressive. The wall to the left was made entirely of stones, with a wood-burning fireplace carved into it and a huge flat screen television mounted at viewing level on a wooden mantel. A king-sized bed covered in a rich chocolate brown comforter and piled high with brown, rust, and cream-colored pillows stood against the opposite wall, which was formed from massive logs. Recessed lights in the ceiling bathed the room in warm light. Overhead, ceiling fans spun lazily, stirring the air.

The most impressive feature was straight ahead, at the far end of the room. A pair of glass doors led to a covered balcony that faced Lake Michigan. It was nearly dark outside, but even from this distance, Beth could see the reflection of the moonlight on the surface of the lake.

“This is a beautiful room,” Beth said.

“It’s yours now, too,” he said. “If you want to change anything, go right ahead.” He set her carefully on her feet. “The bathroom’s through there, and the closet is through that door. Miguel brought all your clothes and personal items from your bedroom. You’ll find everything organized in the closet.”

“Personal items?” Beth said, going pale. She kept her vibrators in the bottom drawer of her nightstand, not to mention a bottle of lubricant and her collection of erotic paperbacks.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Surely Miguel had seen worse. She could feel her face turning pink.

“Here, let me help you.” Shane’s hands went to her waist. “Where do you want to go?”

“To the bathroom. I need to get ready for bed.”

“I asked Elly to stock up on everything you might need. You’ll find it all in the bathroom cupboard.”

Shane helped her walk to the bathroom, but she stopped him at the threshold with a hand on his chest.

“I can manage from here,” she said, grinning at him.

“But you’re exhausted,” he said.

“Shane, I think I can handle this on my own.”

“All right,” he said, releasing her reluctantly. “Call out if you need help.”

She entered the bathroom and flipped on the light switch. As she started to close the door behind her, he blocked it and poked his head inside.

“I’ll grab you a nightgown from the closet,” he said.

“Thank you.”

She walked into the bathroom, moving slowly because everything was sore. Her muscles ached, and her bones felt like lead. Her gaze went right to the sunken Jacuzzi, and she wished she had the energy to soak in a tub of hot water, but she was simply too tired to contemplate it. Maybe tomorrow. All she wanted to do right now was crash in Shane’s big bed.