The Bride's Bodyguard

She heard the fast-food bag rattle as he dug into it. “Well, we can’t rule out the ring, but keep thinking. What about computer files? Something he asked you to pack in your suitcase or hold in your purse?”

She fidgeted with her earring, then gasped and spun back toward Jake.

“His grandmother’s earrings! He wanted me to wear them for the wedding—”

Jake’s face lit up. “The ones you’re wearing?”

Nodding, she put a hand behind her right earlobe and tipped her head to show him.

Leaning closer, Jake brushed her hair out of the way for a better view. When his fingertips skimmed her cheek, a tingle raced over her skin. She tensed, hyperalert to his nearness as he examined the simple gold dangling earrings. She held her breath, all too aware of the fact that in her entire relationship with Brent, her fiancé's caresses had never elicited half the electricity in her that Jake’s accidental touch had. Her heartbeat kicked into overdrive when his mahogany eyes met hers at close range. “May I take it off?”

The deep, husky timbre of his voice stroked her, and she had to swallow hard before she could speak. “Sure.”

She scrunched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, certain she’d come out of her skin as he fumbled to remove the jewelry from her lobe, his warm fingers teasing the erogenous zone behind her ear. When he leaned back, his attention narrowed on the delicate earring, she drew a shaky breath, puzzled by her schoolgirl reaction to him.

He saved your life today. This giddy, blood-pumping response to him must be some form of emotional transference or hero worship. An adrenaline-based response to your brush with danger.

Appeased by her explanation, Paige turned her attention back to her hamburger but found she no longer had an appetite. She lifted her gaze to Jake, whose brows were furrowed in concentration.

“There are no gems on them,” she offered, taking off the other earring to hand to him. “Nothing that could be called a bead. They’re just hammered gold and a wire hook. They’re not even all that pretty. But they’re family heirlooms, and he asked me to wear them for the wedding.” When he held out his hand for the second earring, she dropped it into his hand, careful not to touch him.

Chicken.

He shook his head and curled his fingers around the jewelry. “Damn. I thought we had something, but you’re right. There’s nothing to these things, nothing I see as suspicious. Nothing that’d make terrorists want ‘em or threaten national security.” He puffed out a frustrated breath and took another large bite of his sandwich. “What else?” he asked as he chewed.

She fingered the hem of her shirt and shrugged. “He had me keep the plane tickets for Jamaica in my purse. And…well, he gave me a corsage to wear at the rehearsal dinner last night. He gave—”

“Where’s the corsage?” His eyes were bright with interest again.

“At my house, in the refrigerator. I was hoping it would stay fresh until I got back from the honeymoon.” She sat straighter. “I don’t remember anything beadlike added as embellishment. But I suppose—”

“It’s not the corsage.” Jake’s jaw tightened. “The bead is important. Something he wanted protected, guarded. He wouldn’t have put it in something you’d leave in your refrigerator while the two of you jetted off to the islands.” He pressed his mouth in a thin line of consternation. “There has to be something else. Think!”

“I’m trying!” Her inability to decipher this puzzle grated on her logical, analytical nature. Jake’s dissatisfaction with her help challenged her innate need to please, to prove herself, to excel. “We’re assuming the term bead is literal. We don’t know that what he gave me is beadlike at all. What if bead is an acronym or a code name? ”

“You’re right. We shouldn’t think so narrowly.”

He shoved to his feet and grabbed her wedding dress from floor. “Have you gone over this to see if he hid something in the beading? ”

“I didn’t see anything unusual. Besides, Brent didn’t give me the dress. He hadn’t even seen it until today.”

He continued probing the decorated folds of satin with a wrinkle in his brow. “Maybe he hid something in your suitcase without telling you. Have you searched it?”

“Yes. I didn’t find anything I hadn’t packed myself.”

The house was rapidly growing dark as the sun set outside. Without the use of lights, which would call attention to their presence in the vacant house, they’d soon be left in an all-encompassing darkness. Paige shuddered at the thought, remembering the terrifying blast of gunfire and Trench Coat’s menacing smirk.

She had something terrorists wanted. Something they’d happily kill her to retrieve.

The pressure to come up with an answer bore down on her. She curled her fingers into her hair, pressing her temples with the heels of her hands. “I don’t know! I have no idea what those men were after or why Brent thinks I have it!” Her voice cracked, thick with defeat and fear. “I’ve gone over the last few weeks again and again, and I just can’t—”

Jake captured her head between his hands, startling her. She hadn’t noticed his approach, and his calmly commanding grasp stole her breath.

“It’s all right, Paige.” As soon as he had her attention, his hands gentled to a soothing stroke that settled at the base of her skull. His fingers tangled in her hair, and his gaze held hers. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure this out another way.”

In the wake of all he’d sacrificed this afternoon to save her, her failure gnawed at her belly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what—”

“Shh.” His thumbs caressed her jaw, and she saw a warmth and understanding that she’d never seen before in his chiseled face and military-hardened attitude. Her pulse stumbled, and heat flooded her cheeks where his thumbs grazed her skin. “Maybe we’re going about this all wrong. Maybe a better plan would be to get a fix on what this bead is and why it is a national security risk.”

With Jake’s hands in her hair, his muscled body so close, her voice fled, but she managed a small nod.

His touch made her dizzy, and a heady thrill tripped through her veins. She indulged in a leisurely study of his full lips, his slightly crooked nose and his angular cheeks, where the first hints of evening stubble had grown.

Jake McCall, with his navy SEAL body, military bearing and ruggedly handsome face, exuded a masculinity that shook Paige to the core. He was nothing like the soft-in-the-middle, somewhat geeky, scientist-type men she’d dated. Nothing like the man she’d almost married.

Guilt bit hard on her conscience when she thought of Brent. How could she swoon like this over Jake’s tantalizing touch and bedroom eyes while her fiancé was in the hospital dying?

No. Not her fiancé. She couldn’t marry Brent now, not after he’d lied to her, put her in danger, proven how little she knew about him. Her chest tightened as she thought about how disappointed her father would be. He’d introduced her to Brent, encouraged the marriage, been so proud of her.

But she’d never had more than friendly affection for the man her father wanted her to marry. She’d believed the love would grow over the years, had believed passion was a fleeting thing only the fortunate few ever really had. Because marrying Brent made her father happy, because she knew how important Brent’s role in Bancroft Industries was, Paige had been willing to enter a marriage based on platonic feelings and good business. She’d thought it would be enough for her.

Now, the extent of her relief that she’d not legally married Brent today told her just how wrong the marriage was. But how could she let her father down? How could she jeopardize her family’s position at Bancroft Industries?

“Paige?” Jake’s deep voice called her from her troubled thoughts and refocused her attention on their more immediate problem.

“H-how…” she croaked, then paused to clear her throat and lick her dry lips. “How are we supposed to find out what the bead is?”

Jake’s gaze darted to her mouth, his pupils dilating, and she felt his grip tighten subtly.

“My sister said Brent’s unresponsive, so we can’t ask him about it.”

When she mentioned Brent, Jake’s expression shifted, hardened, and he withdrew his hands from her face. His movements stiff, he rose to his feet again and stalked across the floor.

“What about your father? Maybe he’d know something.”

Paige blinked and shook her head, unsure she’d heard him correctly. “My father? Why would he know anything?”

“He’s the head of the company, about to pass over the reins to Scofield. If this has anything to do with Bancroft Industries, there’s a good chance he knows something.”

“Who said Bancroft Industries was involved?”

“Brent said a business deal had gone sour. As a medical research and development company, Bancroft Industries has the means to engineer something that could pose a national security risk.” He shrugged. “Can you think of any other way Brent could have gotten involved with terrorists? He have any questionable hobbies, travel to exotic places?”

Paige’s shoulders slumped. “No. The company is his life.”

The idea that her father’s business, a company her grandfather had built from the ground up, could have been infiltrated by terrorists made Paige nauseated.

Jake faced her, his body taut and poised for action. “In that case, our focus should be on Scofield’s role at Bancroft Industries. Can you get me inside? I need to search Scofield’s office, take a look at his computer.”

“I…guess so. In the morning, I can—”

“No. Tonight.” Jake stepped over to her and, with a hand under her elbow, hoisted her to her feet. “If national security is at risk, then the clock is ticking. We have to move on this. Now.”

Chapter 4

As they drove to Bancroft Industries in the nondescript Taurus Jake had rented on his last trip out, he briefed Paige on his search plan. “Remember, the place is likely being watched. We need to be as discreet and as quick as possible. Get in, get the files and get out. Stay close to me and follow my directions. Got it? ”

Page sent him a worried look. “If those men are watching the office, how do you expect to get in without being seen?”

A buzz of energy flowed through Jake. After two years out of action, it felt good to be back in his element. “Trust me, okay? I once got a team of SEALs past thirty insurgents and inside an embassy building in Iraq without being noticed. I’m trained for this kind of thing.”

He gave his aching knee a quick rub and tried to block out the reminder of his last mission, the ambush, his failure. He’d lost good men, most of his right kneecap and his career with the SEALs.

As he drove past the driveway to Bancroft Industries, Paige cut a sharp glance across the front seat. “That was your turn.”

“Not until we do a little surveillance of our own. Study the grounds carefully, and tell me if anything seems out of place, no matter how minor.”

He cruised past the parking lot without slowing, giving her little time to study the grounds.

She grunted and cast him a withering look. “How am I supposed to tell anything if you don’t slow down and give me a chance to look?”

“What would you think if you saw a car slow down as it drove past your house?”

She leaned back against the seat and sighed her resignation. “I’d think they were casing the property with ill intent. I’d find it suspicious.”

“Did you get anything on that pass? Picture the scene in your head and analyze it.”

Paige chewed her bottom lip and closed her eyes. “The parking lot was emptier than usual for this time of night, but that’s probably because we let so many employees have today off for the wedding. There would only be a skeleton crew working.” She scrunched her nose and, angling her head, met his gaze across the dark front seat. “And there were more security cars than usual. Two at the front gate instead of one, and I think I saw another near the main entrance. Why would—?” Her expression said she’d answered her own question.

“Apparently after what happened today at church, your dad saw the connection to Bancroft Industries, as well, and decided to beef up security.”

A deep V creased her brow. “I should be with my family. This mess affects them and the business as much as me. Maybe my dad could help us figure out what the bead is. Even though he’s not involved with whatever Brent has done, my dad knows Bancroft Industries inside out. He could—”

“How do you know he’s not involved?”

“My father is not involved with terrorists!” Paige’s jade eyes flashed with anger.

“Twenty-four hours ago you’d have said the same about Scofield.”

“That’s different. I know my father, and he’s not—”

“All right.” Jake raised a hand in concession. Now was not the time to argue that point. He just prayed they didn’t find evidence in Scofield’s files that implicated the senior Bancroft. He’d hate to see Paige disillusioned, heartbroken if her father had a hand in something illegal, even traitorous. “What else did you notice?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t have time to see much else. Can you drive by again?”

“This car may be bland, but if we make another pass, we’ll be noticed.”

She frowned. “So that’s it? One quick drive-by is your idea of reconnaissance?”

He quirked an eyebrow and gave her a smug grin. “If you’re good, once is enough. And I’m very good,” he said, his voice dipping.

He hadn’t intended the seductive timbre, but the cant of her head and spark of intrigue that simmered in her gaze told him clearly that she’d heard the unspoken message in his tone.

“Let’s hope so,” she replied smoothly.

Jake shoved down the kick of libido that tightened his muscles. Sexual banter with the woman he was supposed to be guarding was just the kind of distraction that could get them killed. Gripping the steering wheel harder, he refocused the surge of energy toward finding a place to leave the car where they could make a quick getaway if needed.

Ten minutes later, they approached the Bancroft Industries property on foot, skirting the parking lot and staying hidden in the woods that bordered three sides of the facility. Jake did a quick scan of the area, noting the location of security cameras, parked cars and shadowed corners where someone could be hiding.

He took Paige’s hand in his, then nodded toward the car nearest them in the parking lot. “That’s our first stop. Stay low and keep up. Ready?”

“Is all this cloak-and-dagger stuff really necessary?” she whispered. “This is my family’s company. I’ve worked here since I was an intern the summer after my high school graduation. I should be able to walk in the front door, without the spy games, and without anyone questioning me.”

“Except that it’s your wedding night, your fiancé is in the hospital and the same gunmen who opened fire at your ceremony would like nothing better than to see you walk through the front door so they can grab you and torture you until you tell them where the bead is.”

Her eyes filled with fear. “I only meant—”

“We run on three.” They didn’t have time for her to lament what should have been. They could have already been spotted at the edge of the woods. He hiked onto his shoulder the empty backpack he’d brought to carry out their booty. “One. Two. Three.”

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