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A Bodyguard for Christmas
“Honest, aren’t you?” And tough, he thought.
“Painfully.”
“Painful for whom?” Ian glanced at Jordan, saw the flash of male frustration—the kind that came from fighting the inevitable.
Interesting.
Regina’s lips curved in amusement. “Believe it or not, more often for me. Jordan just happens to be the exception right now.”
“Are you quite done?”
“Quite done.” Regina mimicked Jordan’s accent before turning to his friend.
She held out her hand and shook Ian’s. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. MacAlister. Chris was quite a fan of your family’s whiskey. And of your family.”
“Please, call me Ian. Chris was a favorite of ours, too,” Ian acknowledged warmly, liking the woman instantly. He had a habit—a rather accurate one actually—of summing up a person’s worth in a matter of seconds after meeting them. Ian decided on the spot that if Regina Menlow were gold, she’d be worth quite a small fortune on her integrity alone. “And I think the pleasure will be all mine, Regina.”
“Ian,” Jordan warned, understanding his friend and the statement. “You can let go of her hand, now.”
He turned on Regina when Ian let her go. “I should have locked you in the motel room.”
“Motel?” Ian frowned. “Where are you staying?”
“Some seedy place downtown,” Regina replied, crossing her arms in what Ian determined was a deliberate attempt to show no fear. Too bad the deep swallow gave her away.
“We’re staying at the Carltonesque,” Jordan answered, his frustration becoming palpable.
“You’re kidding?” Ian let out a low whistle. “Isn’t that the place we busted that Mafia drug—”
“It’s fine. And that bust happened years ago. It’s under new management.” Jordan glared at Regina. The blast of it almost had her stepping back. Almost.
Instead, temper stiffened her spine. She hadn’t lived all those years with her Aunt Aida without learning how to defend herself. “Jordan’s right, seedy seems harsh. After all, it has a vibrating bed. We haven’t tried it out yet, but…” She punctuated the sentence with a shrug.
“Are you finished?” Jordan’s back teeth slammed together, forcing his jaw muscles into overdrive.
“Really?” Ian rocked back on his heels and grinned, thoroughly enjoying his friend’s discomfort, Regina noted.
“It beats your current living situation,” Jordan remarked. “Or did you forget your place is now nothing more than a pile of charred books?”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Regina’s chin went up, daring him to take another swipe. “Nor have I forgotten you saved my life. But that doesn’t give you the right to belittle it now.”
“Until I’m sure who is after you, you’re staying with me,” Jordan ordered.
“If Miss Menlow needs a place to stay, we have a guest room,” Ian offered, swallowing a laugh. “I can keep her safe here.”
“It’s not funny,” Jordan bit out.
Regina turned to Ian. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary—”
Jordan cut her off. “She’ll stay with me.”
Regina tried again. “Of course, I appreciate the offer but—”
“I’m not going to place your family in harm’s way, Ian.”
Regina placed her hands on her hips. “I can talk for myself, Jordan.”
He snorted. “What do you think is going to happen when your friend finds out the book he grabbed isn’t my father’s journal?”
“I know he’ll try to find me. I’m not stupid. In fact, I graduated top in my class at Princeton.”
“In what?” Ian asked, curious.
“Not covert operations,” Jordan answered, deliberately provoking her. “She has a master’s in English literature. But she never finished her doctorate.”
Regina gasped, enraged. “How do you know?” She narrowed her eyes. “You have a file on me, don’t you?”
“I suspected you of murdering my father, or at least sleeping with him. Of course, I’m going to have a file on you, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart,” she snapped, hating how he turned an endearment into a derogatory pet name.
“Scarface won’t take a chance that the book was not destroyed in the fire.”
“Scarface?” Ian asked, trying to keep up.
Both Regina and Jordan said, “Later,” in unison.
“I know they’re out there now,” she told Jordan. “I won’t be so easy to find.”
“Have you ever gone into hiding before?” Ian asked. He thought about stepping between the couple, until he caught Jordan’s glare. Ian decided he liked his teeth more.
“Of course not.” She dismissed the thought with a frown. “But I’ve read books on the subject. Many written by retired military or government officials. Some even by people who have managed to create new identities.”
Ian’s mouth twitched. “You’ve read books.”
“Seems Miss Menlow gets all her life experiences through books,” Jordan drawled. “Well, almost all.”
A flush crept over her cheeks. “You don’t have to be rude.”
“I’m only beginning, sweetheart.”
Chapter Five
Jordan took a step forward, purposely invading Regina’s space, forcing her neck back to see his face.
Startled, Ian stared at his friend. Jordan had never used brute force against someone weaker. It wasn’t in his nature.
Regina slapped her hand against Jordan’s chest, as if it would keep him in place if he decided to charge. “You don’t intimidate me, Jordan.”
“You’re not going anywhere. If I have to tie you down—”
“You just try it.”
Ian almost laughed when Regina actually pushed her sleeves up to her elbows.
Regina didn’t notice Ian’s reaction, her full focus was on the man before her. “I’ve really had it with your bullying.”
“Sweetheart,” he threatened, his tone low and mean. “You haven’t seen anything—”
“Am I interrupting something?” Lara MacAlister asked from the stairway. Her voice was soft enough to make the couple realize they had been shouting.
Ian’s wife seemed to float down the remaining few steps, her long red hair swaying against her shoulders. Class, Regina thought instantly, watching the woman descend in a tailored, emerald green velour robe.
“Not at all. Your timing is impeccable, darling.” Ian met his wife at the base of the steps and draped his arm across her back.
Lara handed him a sweatshirt she’d been carrying and kissed his cheek. “I thought it might be too chilly down here.” She eyed Jordan and Regina, her deep green cat eyes glittering with curiosity. “I guess I was mistaken. Looks like things have been heating up.”
Ian’s gaze caught his wife’s and held it just a second longer than necessary before his mouth slid into an easy smile.
“Darling, I’d like you to meet, Miss Regina Menlow.” Ian pulled the sweatshirt over his head. “She’s Chris Beck’s—”
“Mistress.” Regina shook Lara’s hand, still smarting from the last exchange with Jordan.
“Will you stop saying that?” he snapped.
“You first,” she replied, her eyes narrowing.
Lara frowned. “I must have missed something—”
“I’ll explain it to you later,” Ian said, enjoying his friend’s discomfort. “But if this woman was Chris’s mistress, I’ll change Clara’s diapers for a whole year.”
“Really?” Lara asked, surprised. She looked at Regina. “Sure there isn’t any chance…a kiss on the cheek perhaps? Holding hands?” Lara’s lips tilted into a tired smile. “I really could use the break.”
“Chris loved his wife,” Regina emphasized, then turned to Jordan. “He might not have spoken about her often, but when he did it was with complete respect.”
The blue eyes turned arctic. “Leave my mother out of this,” he ordered before turning to Lara. “Hi ya, Red.”
The woman walked right into his arms and gave him a hug. “It’s been a while, handsome.”
Regina would’ve admired the woman’s courage if it hadn’t been for the jealousy that snaked up her spine.
Or the hurt that stabbed at her chest when Jordan grabbed Lara closer and lifted her into a tighter hug. “Missed you, too.” He kissed her forehead.
“Careful, friend,” Ian warned good-naturedly. “You’re holding more than one there.”
Slowly, Jordan let Lara slip to the ground. “You’re pregnant again?”
“One month.” She patted her flat stomach. “So you can’t do too much damage yet. We just found out today.”
“We were celebrating when the doorbell rang,” Ian added, wryly.
“Then I’m not sorry we interrupted.” Jordan hugged her again. “Congratulations, darling.” Then he reached around Lara and shook Ian’s hand. “You, too, mate.”
“Yes, congratulations,” Regina added, with a sudden awkwardness. The dimensions had changed. She wasn’t just among friends, she suddenly realized. She was with a family.
Regina didn’t do families well.
As if sensing her discomfort, Jordan draped an arm around her shoulder. When she instinctively tried to step away, he pulled her tight to his side and kept her there. Too tired to fight, she leaned into him, surprised when this eased her anxiety.
“Lara,” Jordan said. “Regina doesn’t have any clothes besides the ones she’s wearing. Someone torched her place tonight with her in it. I was hoping you might have some to spare.”
“You’ve been busy,” Lara commented, catching the look on Jordan’s face. The hard line of his mouth, the set of his jaw, the slight softening around his eyes—told her that Jordan had gone into protective mode.
Interesting, considering the fight she’d interrupted when she came down the stairs.
But it wasn’t only Jordan’s reaction she noticed. The woman seemed to relax almost instantly once Jordan held her. Before that she’d seen the flash of panic, the wariness when she found out about Lara’s pregnancy.
“It just so happens that I have some clothes,” Lara said, keeping it light. “You lost everything?” She took the opportunity to study Regina, instantly liking the slight tilt of the chin, the proud set of her shoulders. “You’re more Celeste’s size then mine, but I’m sure I can find something.”
“Celeste?” Regina asked, the wariness appearing almost instantly.
“My sister-in-law. Ian’s brother’s wife. If you can follow that,” Lara joked, deliberately putting the younger woman at ease. “But don’t worry, she won’t mind.”
Suddenly, Lara caught the scent of smoke. “Is that you two?”
Regina nodded. “We haven’t had a chance to really clean up—”
“You’re probably dying for a hot shower.” Lara tugged gently at Regina’s arm, separating her from Jordan. “You can use our guest shower if you want, Jordan.”
“I’ll pass. I can grab a shower back at the motel.”
“I don’t want to impose,” Regina insisted.
“You’re not,” Lara said, deciding the matter. “I’ll find some clothes for you, too, Jordan, if you want.”
“I have some, thanks.”
“Come with me. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chance to visit with another woman,” Lara whispered to Regina, lying without a hint of guilt. “You do mind, don’t you?”
Before Regina could reply, Lara stopped at the bottom step and glanced at her husband. “Why don’t you boys have some sandwiches made up and brought into the library?”
“Good idea. When you two are done, why don’t you meet us in there?” Ian said, studying the two women with an approving smile as they climbed the stairs.
“Stop ogling your wife.”
“I’m not, I’m ogling your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Too bad. She’s tough. A scrapper,” Ian said with admiration.
“Girlfriends end up being collateral damage in our line of business, remember?” Still, Jordan’s gaze followed Regina until she disappeared into the main bedroom upstairs.
“Can’t argue there,” Ian commented. “That’s why I left.”
“You left because you wanted to make whiskey. Just so happened, you fell in love with another operative. Just like your brother, Cain, did with Celeste and Roman did with your sister, Kate,” Jordan pointed out. “They all still work for Labyrinth.”
“None are field ops,” Ian remarked. “You know as well as I do why Cain is the director of Labyrinth. He chose the desk job after Jon Mercer left, to protect Celeste and his boys.”
“Celeste still profiles for Labyrinth. And Kate still works their technology division. And Roman is still contracted as one of their security specialists,” Jordan insisted, then jabbed a thumb up at the stairs. “Regina owns a bookstore.”
Ian raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you’re not tempted to sleep with her.”
“Hell, yes I’ve been tempted. Have you looked at her, Ian? What heterosexual male wouldn’t want her?” Jordan said, exasperated. “But I’m not going to. I promised Chris I’d protect her. No more, no less. The sooner I can figure out who tried to kill her, the quicker she can go back to her safe, ordinary life.”
“You could always retire.”
“And do what? I’ve been trained for one thing. I’m damned good at it, too.”
Ian considered Jordan for a moment, not arguing. Jordan was good at what he did. In fact, he was probably one of the best left in the field. “You were goading her on purpose. Why?”
Jordan shrugged. “I wanted to see if she would slip up with any lies while in a temper.”
Ian snorted with derision. “You know as well as I do she’s telling the truth.”
“I knew pretty much before we even got here,” Jordan admitted, wryly. “You’re not the only one with instincts.”
“So?” Ian prompted.
“So, it takes her less than ten seconds to get under my skin when she’s in a temper,” he admitted, aggravated.
What he didn’t admit was that the angrier she got, the prettier she became. Her eyes sparkled, her face flushed pink and her mouth got downright sassy.
Just the thought of all that sass turning to passion shifted his baser instincts into overdrive. And frustrated the hell out of him.
“Most people call it foreplay.”
Startled, Jordan stared at his friend.
Ian grinned, flashing a row of white teeth. “Only obvious when you’re not caught up in it. Remember when Lara and I used to go at it?”
“Yes. You drove me crazy.” A few years back, Lara and Ian had fought like cats and dogs up to the moment he chased her to France. Even then, it took a while for Ian to convince Lara he loved her. And at the time, she was seven months pregnant with Ian’s baby.
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