Trusting the Bodyguard

He spared her a glance then returned his stare to the view, and she huffed a short breath. “I see. As soon as the baby is awake we’ll be on our way. Thanks for the bed and the pleasant company.”

The last part was probably in bad form seeing as she was the one who’d invaded his space without warning, but she was stung by his open rejection and her verbal filters weren’t functioning quite yet. She’d forgotten how rigid he could be, but it was all coming back to her in a rush of disappointment. When Archer chose to be obstinate, he took it to an art form.

“Marissa, we have to finish our talk from last night, remember?”

She stopped and turned. “The way I see it, we are finished.”

“Well, we’re not,” he said, stalking past her to the living room, expecting her to follow. She was half-tempted to charge right up the stairs just to give him the message that she didn’t take orders from him and never would, but she didn’t put it past him to throw her over his shoulder and toss her to the sofa if she tried, so she grudgingly followed. He took a seat in an oversize recliner that would’ve swallowed her but seemed to fit his frame perfectly and waited for her to sit down across from him. She gave him a cold look but sat without getting too comfortable. The tension between them was heavy enough to choke the oxygen from her lungs. “Baby still asleep?” he asked, throwing her off with his concern.

“Yes. She seems to take after her mom and likes to sleep in,” she said, covering her surprise with a bracing sip of her coffee. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I need to know everything that happened the night you took Jenna. Don’t spare any details.”

“Why?” she asked, hating to even think about that night and the ramifications. “It’s not necessary.”

“Let me be the judge of that. If you want my help, you’re going to be honest with me. I don’t want to be sucker punched by something later.”

It was a fair request. If only the details didn’t make her quake with equal parts revulsion and fear. She bit her lower lip, wondering how this became her life. Three days ago her biggest concern was whether her drug trial was going to be successful; now she was terrified of ending up like her sister and Jenna landing back in her father’s arms. Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. She looked away until she could blink them back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling in spite of her attempt to keep it level and calm. “I wasn’t thinking. I just came here because I knew that no one in Ruben’s circle would know about you or this place and I figured we’d be safe here but I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. It’s not fair to you and I’m so sorry.”

“You can always count on me, Marissa,” he said roughly, as if it cost him to admit that. “I know you wouldn’t have come if you didn’t think it was your last option but I have to know everything.”

She closed her eyes, blocking out the images that were stuck there. Sordid, disgusting and debasing images jumped to the forefront and she had to choke back a groan.

“What happened, Marissa?”

She looked away. “If I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone else.” His pause made her jerk to face him and her heart squeezed painfully as she assessed him openly. His answer made the difference whether she shared or not. “Are you saying you can’t keep this between us?”

“Depends on what you tell me,” he answered, his tone deceptively mild, yet the burn in his eyes told another story. “I’m a federal agent. I can’t make the rules up as I go along.”

Contempt colored her voice. “Bullshit, that’s exactly what you do in that secret branch you work for. Eyes Only, plausible deniability…I’m not an idiot, Archer.”

“You just kidnapped the daughter of a known drug lord,” he countered, making her see red. It wasn’t as though she had a choice.

“He killed my sister! How could I leave Jenna with him?” Tears filled her eyes again but this time they were caused by rage, not fear or pain. “He’s a bastard who destroys lives. I couldn’t let her grow up with him. Not after what he did to her mother.”

Her outburst didn’t seem to sway him either way. She wiped at the moisture, irritation at his cold nature washing over her. She’d forgotten about that part of his personality, as well. Hell, had she remembered anything about him that was accurate? “You don’t know what it’s been like since Ruben came into our lives. It’s been hell.”

She didn’t want to tell Archer that she’d often felt Ruben’s gaze on her, sliding up and down her body, blatantly resting on her breasts as if it were his right to do so, not even hiding his perusal from the eyes of her sister. Mercedes had tried not to show that it bothered her, hurt her even, but toward the end, it had become unbearable. Marissa’s only escape had been work, the one place Ruben was not allowed access. The day Mercedes had decided to end the relationship, Marissa had nearly cried with joy. Looking back, she realized what fools they’d been to think it would be that easy.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, then clarified. “Physically.”

She resisted the urge to touch her bruised face. Technically, Ruben hadn’t lifted a finger. He had enough people around to do his dirty work. Upstairs the baby whimpered and she shot up. “Jenna’s awake. I have to go get her.”

Without waiting for his permission, she flew up the stairs and cuddled Jenna’s sweet, pudgy body against her own. “Good morning, mija,” she whispered against her niece’s crown and offered a word of gratitude to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, then prepared to return downstairs to the man who would settle for nothing but the truth.

The problem was, the truth was something he was likely to wish he didn’t know. God knows, she wished she could forget.

ARCHER DELIBERATELY KEPT his attention far from Marissa’s retreating backside as she hurried to get the baby. At one time, he’d thought their babies would be the ones she’d be tending but that hadn’t worked out so well. He gulped the rest of his coffee and then stood, unable to sit still any longer. His nerves were drawn tight and he was getting that edge that he always did at the start of an assignment. All that was missing was the actual assignment. And if the doc were to be believed…he was a long way from getting an assignment anytime soon. He swore and absently rubbed at his injury.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

Marissa’s voice at his back made him turn to face her. He waved away the concern he saw there, uncomfortable with the way it made him want it. “It’s nothing,” he said brusquely. He gestured toward the baby. “Does she need anything?”

She eyed him hesitantly, as if doing an internal question-and-answer session to see how the conversation might turn out in real time, then nodded. “Diapers and milk.”

“Milk I’ve got,” he said. “Diapers I don’t.”

Her full, sensual mouth—he’d never quite forgotten how it felt sliding across his own—twisted in a wry grin. “Well, I’d have been surprised to hear otherwise. Is there a store close by I could go to? I need to pick up a few other things, too, before we take off.”

He ignored the part where she mentioned leaving and grabbed a magnetic notepad from the refrigerator door. She was crazy if she thought he was going to let her leave when there was a murdering drug lord on her back. Plus there was the not-so-small detail that she’d kidnapped a toddler to deal with. It was best to keep her close for the time being. “What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”

“I don’t need you to do that,” she protested. “I have money and a car. I just need directions.”

“Marissa…stop being stubborn. You need supplies. I will get them for you. End of story.”

“Is this how it’s going to be?” she demanded. “You giving orders like some drill sergeant? I didn’t come here so you could boss me around. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself—”

“If that were the case you wouldn’t have broken into my house with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the piss and vinegar in your blood,” he cut in, ignoring the flash of wounded pride that followed. He couldn’t afford to be moved by that beautiful face. It was bad enough that she had haunted his dreams and made him a miserable bastard during the day for the past three years. He sure as hell didn’t need to let her get further under his skin. He grabbed his keys and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t leave. I’ll be back in an hour.” He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t take kindly to his instruction.

“I don’t appreciate being told what to do and when to do it. I’m not a child, nor your wife. I can come and go as I see fit.”

True. But he wasn’t going to see her get killed over this mess she’d gotten herself into. That was the last thing he needed on his conscience. He hardened his voice to drive the point home. “You’re on the run with a kid that doesn’t belong to you. All it will take is one phone call and your pretty little ass will be sitting in prison and that baby will return to her father.”

Her eyes watered. “You would do that to me?” her whispered voice cut at him. “You would turn me in?”

“Yes.”

He’d crushed her. He could see it in her face. He looked away so he wouldn’t have to see it anymore. “It’s not going to come to that. You’ll stay because I’m the only one you can trust, Rissa,” he said, his nickname for her flowing from his mouth too naturally for comfort. “Just stay put, will you?” he bit out before slamming the door behind him.

He used the drive to town to place a few phone calls. He needed background information on this Ruben guy. With any luck the man had a record and an active warrant but even as he thought it, he knew his luck wouldn’t be that good. Guys like Ruben slid in and out of bad situations on the power of their own slime and often came out the other side smelling like a rose and looking none the worse for their experience.

“I need a favor,” he said, adjusting his Bluetooth device for a better position in his ear.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting or something like that?” Rico Harley said drily. “Heard Doc didn’t give you the green light. Tough break. The downtime must be killing you.”

Rico, a fellow special ops agent who was recruited by the FBI at the same time as Archer, was the kind of man who was wicked smart and just a little on the damaged side. Made him perfect for the kind of assignments they were given. Archer also knew that Rico wouldn’t mind doing a little background for him. Rico liked to break the rules even more so than Archer.

“I need you to run a name.”

“Dating again?” Rico returned indolently.

“Cut the crap. This is serious.”

“What’s the name?” Rico said, all business.

“Ruben Ortiz, rumor has it he runs Oaktown Boyz. Name ring any bells?”

“East Side Oakland Oaktown Boyz?”

“The very same.”

“That’s some sick shit. What you into?”

He hesitated then relented. Rico was solid. “Not me. A friend.”

Rico’s bark of laughter made him growl. “Now I know you’re lying. You ain’t got friends.”

“Just run the damn name, funny boy.”

“Why can’t you do it? You’ve got clearance.”

“Not right now I don’t. If word gets out I was anywhere near the building Doc won’t ever clear me. That sick SOB is just loving the fact that I’m out of commission.”

“You might be right. For a doc, he’s a sadistic asshole, ain’t he?”

Rico’s easy laughter cracked a reluctant grin from Archer. “So can you do me this favor? Or should I ask Jeremiah?”

“Good luck with that. Jeremiah went out on assignment last week.”

Jeremiah was already out on assignment? Jealousy at his former team member getting the all-clear before him coupled with anger at himself for making such a stupid mistake drained the levity from his voice. “Fine. Call my cell when you get the info.”

Rico didn’t ask further questions, just agreed and the conversation was over. Men in general didn’t chew the fat on the phone, but men in their profession found superfluous time spent on anything that could be traced was a liability.

Yeah, they were all that paranoid. Made them good at their jobs. Archer ignored the little voice in his head that was quick to point out that he was no longer the best, but the slaughtered body of Kandy Kane, aka Cynthia Harvey, was hard to forget. He was forced to wonder if the glory days were over. The thought, a chilling one, made him edgy and twitchy. Fact was, he loved his job the way some guys loved their wives. And his wife had just kicked him out of bed. That sucked hard. Deal with it, Brant. Just deal with it, he told himself sourly. He had a kid needing diapers and a former fiancée to keep safe. No sense in crying over what couldn’t be fixed at the moment. Yeah…right.

CHAPTER THREE

MARISSA RAN A BRUSH through Jenna’s thick hair, gently finger-combing the sweet baby curls that clung to her little head and hummed a mindless tune for the child’s benefit. There was little else she could do at the moment but keep her safe and entertained until Archer returned with supplies.

She rolled her neck to relieve the tension bunching her shoulders up around her ears and groaned when a soft pop sounded. She was not the kind of person to sit idly, and doing just that was eating at her ability to hold on to her sanity. It was difficult to comprehend just how radically her life had changed within the space of two days. On the surface she missed the comfort of her routine—her early-morning run, a nonfat latte with whip cream and a quiet lunch spent under the trees in the park near the lab—but deep down there was a knot of grief that pulsed like an angry wound.

God, how she had loved her older sister but she wasn’t going to lie…Mercedes had driven her crazy with her impetuous and often self-absorbed actions. And now…her life was unrecognizable because of Mercedes.

When Mercedes had told her she was pregnant, the air had left Marissa’s lungs. Her sister’s elated expression had given her no similar feeling. Inside, she’d felt a terrible sense of foreboding. Not for the child itself, for all children were gifts from God, but she’d known Ruben was the father and he made her skin crawl.

Jenna grinned and then squealed with delight when she latched on to the television remote. Marissa smiled, her heart squeezing tightly with love for her niece in spite of the circumstances. Jenna looked so much like Mercedes that Marissa liked to pretend that Ruben had not fathered her at all. There was little evidence of his tainted blood in her angelic face and that was a blessing. In her opinion, Ruben was not an attractive man and it would’ve been a cruel joke to curse a daughter with his mug. The fact that she looked so strikingly similar to Mercedes and likewise, herself, had been a point in her favor when she’d made the decision to take her. People would not question that Jenna was her daughter if they moved somewhere where no one knew them.

But to put that plan into play, she’d have to leave everything behind, possibly even travel outside of California to safely pull that off. She sighed unhappily and fell back against the plush sofa, succumbing to a moment of self-pity for the mess she was in.

On impulse, she grabbed her cell phone from her purse. There were seven missed calls from her boss. She listened to the voice mail and cringed when she heard the worry in Layla’s voice. Layla had always been a good supervisor to work for at the lab where Marissa had spent the past six years of her life building a reputation for herself. She’d been the recipient of multiple bonuses from the company due to her successful drug trials and she was known for her work ethic. So to drop off the face of the planet was completely out of character and Layla knew it. Marissa could tell her boss was plainly worried sick by the tone of her messages.

One phone call couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

She quickly dialed. Layla picked up on the first ring, no doubt seeing it was Marissa from the caller ID.

“Where are you? What is going on? I went by your apartment and it looks like a hurricane hit it,” Layla said all in one breath before Marissa could say a word. Layla’s concern sparked an achy feeling in her chest that made it difficult to speak at first. “Marissa? Are you okay? You’ve got me really freaked out.”

“I’m okay.” She thought of her apartment, and how Ruben’s guys must’ve trashed it when she split, and swallowed hard. “I need some personal time. My sister—”

“Of course, you do,” Layla clucked compassionately. “You should’ve told me right away. You have plenty of vacation time you can use to get you through this. Did you know our company also pays for grief counseling? You ought to look into that. No sense in paying for benefits you don’t use, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Marissa murmured, wishing she could tell Layla the truth but knew it was better this way. Besides, Layla was a wonderful boss but they weren’t friends in the strictest sense of the word. Somehow telling her boss that she’d stolen a child and quite possibly killed a man might not reflect well on her ability to remain employed. And Marissa was planning to return to her life. Somehow. “Thank you for your understanding. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’ve been pretty upset these last few days. It just hit me.” Funny, ha-ha, Marissa. She drew a shuddering breath. “But I’ll be okay in a few weeks.”

“Who do you want to take over your experiments?” Layla asked, returning to business. Marissa didn’t fault her. She had a company to keep running and those drug trials were time sensitive. “How about Danny? Or Veronica?”

She wrinkled her nose at Veronica and quickly agreed to the former. “Danny should be fine. Thanks, Layla.”

“Oh, you’re most welcome. I feel so bad about your sister but I’m glad to hear you’re okay. When I went by your apartment…well, I immediately thought the worst.”

Marissa could only imagine the destruction left behind. It burned to know Layla thought she had wigged out to the extreme and trashed her own apartment but she had little choice but to go along with it. “Extreme grief and too much wine is a bad combination,” she murmured, though she grimaced at the lie coming from her mouth.

“Enough said,” Layla replied with dry humor. “We’ve all had a moment where we lose it. Some with less reason than you. Don’t worry about it. No one is judging you on this end. I just want to see you back to work when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Marissa said, feeling marginally better that she’d tied up at least a few loose ends, but still wishing she could just close her eyes and realize everything had been a terrible dream. But she knew it was real and she had to cover her bases. “Layla, if anyone asks about me, could you keep our conversation under your hat? I just want to decompress for a bit in private.”

“You got it,” Layla assured her. “You take care, dear.”

Marissa ended the call and gazed at her niece happily drooling on a universal remote that probably cost Archer a ton of cash and wondered how exactly she could possibly “take care.”

ARCHER RETURNED WITH bags of groceries and various odds and ends that made Marissa wonder if he’d went down each aisle systematically, tossing whatever caught his fancy into the cart. She held up a rubber hot dog that squeaked. “Do you have a dog?” she asked, confused.

Archer scowled and then gestured toward Jenna. “I wasn’t sure what she’d play with. I figured something that made noise was a sure bet. Don’t kids like to make a racket?”

“I guess so but I think you could’ve found more suitable toys in the aisle with the kids’ stuff, don’t you think?”

“I bought everything they had down that aisle but there wasn’t much to choose from. So, the kid got a rubber hot dog, too.”

His demeanor was gruff but Marissa was silently stunned by his generosity. Looking at the bags littering the living room, he had to have spent a fortune. Her eyes watered but she didn’t let the tears fall. She’d cried enough lately but she was ridiculously touched by his attempt to fulfill Jenna’s needs. She reached out and tentatively caressed his cheek. He stilled and then shot a quick, suspicious look her way. “What’s that for?” he asked.

She removed her hand, wishing she’d just said thank-you and left it at that. But she’d reacted to a gut need to touch him and she’d moved before thinking it through. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I just wanted to say thank you. I appreciate all you’ve done.”

Something flitted across his expression but whatever it was he drop-kicked it far and clear within a heartbeat as he said, “Don’t thank me yet. We’ve still got ground to cover and you’re not in the clear. I haven’t decided what to do with you. I’m not going to sacrifice my career for your screwup. If you remember…it’s all I care about.”

Her eyes stung as he threw her words at her again. They’d been said in fear of a future that could’ve left her brokenhearted, so she’d ended their relationship with a clean cut, thinking surgical lines might heal more easily than jagged tears, but she’d been wrong and they both paid the price.

“I’m not asking you to sacrifice anything,” she retorted, her pride smarting from his harsh rebuff. “You’re the one who told me not to leave. I was prepared to get out of your life this morning, remember?”

“Well, running away is what you’re good at. But it’s not that simple any longer. By involving me, you involved the FBI. This isn’t child’s play. We’re talking kidnapping here, Marissa. Do you even know what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into? I’m half tempted to take the kid in myself for your own good. This is going to end badly, I can feel it,” he predicted with a growl that sent a shocking shudder tripping down her back.

He cared. He didn’t want to admit it, was fighting it, but deep down Archer Brant still had feelings for her. Her breath hitched in her chest and she swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She knew those feelings would never go anywhere but it warmed her shivering soul that they were there.

Archer broke the growing silence with a string of swear words that he didn’t even try to censor in spite of Jenna’s presence. “I’m going to go shower,” he bit off, and then gestured angrily to the bags still unopened. “There are clothes in there for you, too.”

ARCHER STOOD UNDER the jet spray, letting the water pelt him on the strongest setting in the hopes that some discomfort would continue to remind him that he was in a mess.

He should’ve dropped her at the nearest bus station with a handful of cash and sent her on her way. That would’ve been smart. But since when was he into going the smart route? He turned and leaned into the spray, closing his eyes as the water streamed down his face. He reached forward and grabbed the bar of soap. Why’d she have to look the same as the day she left him? Was it too much to ask that she’d suddenly sprouted an excess of facial hair and a spare tire around her middle? Apparently. Marissa Vasquez had always been his weak spot. And she’d known it. She’d known he wouldn’t turn her away—hell, she’d banked on it—and now he was staring down ten different ways to tank his career in one fell swoop. Damn, talk about talent.

But Marissa looked just like she did in his dreams. Long waves of dark hair tumbled down her back and framed her heart-shaped face, drawing attention to the plump and wickedly kissable lips he could still remember tasting. Images from the past, sweaty, sultry and scorching, rose like ghosts to haunt him and his body reacted. His groin tightened with an aching intensity and he stifled a groan at the thick erection that sprang to attention, reporting for duty. God, he wanted her still. After all this time she still managed to twist him in knots.

He gritted his teeth and deliberately jerked the shower knob to cold.

CHAPTER FOUR

RUBEN ORTIZ DRUMMED his long fingers lightly against the top of his desk, silently fuming as he listened to the reports of his men.

“Manny’s in bad shape,” Raul said, his dark features inscrutable. “The bitch cut him good.”