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The 9-Month Bodyguard. Cindy Dees
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Автор произведения Cindy Dees
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
Издательство HarperCollins
“We’ll be arriving at the underground entrance of your hotel in…driver, how long till we’re back at the Grand?”
“Twenty minutes, sir.”
“…in twenty minutes. Right. Thanks. No sweat.” Austin pocketed his phone.
She liked to think of it as healthy inquisitiveness, but nosiness was one of her greatest weaknesses. She liked to know everything that was going on around her. When Austin made no comment, her curiosity quickly got the best of her. “So, what did my father say?”
“He’ll have someone waiting at the gate for us.”
She huffed. “No. About the shooting? Did the police catch the guy?”
“No.”
“Who was he shooting at? Was anyone hurt? C’mon, Austin. Gimme the scoop.”
Amusement glinted in his green gaze. “I don’t need the police to tell me the gunman was shooting at you. I saw the guy make his move. And, no, no one was seriously hurt. Some guests and staff have cuts and bruises from twisted ankles and falling glass.”
She was still stuck on his first sentence. “The gunman was shooting at me? Are you sure?”
That earned her an annoyed look. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s what I do, remember?”
“How do you know?”
He sighed. “I saw the gunman dart out of hiding and pull out his weapon. He timed his move for when Bubba had stepped away from you to give the cameras his best profile. He really is a jerk, you know.”
“The shooter or Mark?”
Austin grinned. “Both of them.”
She rolled her eyes. The guy was trying very hard not to be informative with her. She prompted him again. “Then what did the gunman do?”
Austin crossed his arms. “He took aim at you with a large-caliber handgun and fired. One thing we know about him—he’s a crappy shot. He should have nailed you cold. Any eighteen-year-old raw recruit could make that kill.”
“Well, thank God for small favors,” she replied dryly.
He glanced over at her. “Seriously. It tells us a lot about the guy. If he were a professional hit man you’d be dead. This guy’s an amateur with something personal against you. Can you think of anyone who might want to kill you? Maybe get revenge for some past wrong?”
She frowned hard, not liking the turn this conversation was taking one little bit.
“Any old boyfriends you had ugly breakups with? Anyone you crossed swords with during your career? Anyone who might feel slighted by your success?”
She gifted him with an annoyed look of her own. “Yes to all of the above. Times about a hundred. In case you didn’t know it, my former singing career was…slightly tumultuous.”
He laughed. “The way I hear it, that’s an extreme understatement.”
Sometimes it got really old having a public past like hers to live down. With a long-suffering sigh, she replied, “There you have it. The list of people who want to see me dead is long and distinguished. Take your pick of who the gunman could be.”
For a moment sympathy shone in his eyes. But then his gaze went flinty hard. “Never fear, honey. I’ll figure out who he is and take the bastard out. Nobody shoots at someone I’m responsible for and lives to tell about it.”
She sank deeper into the plush seat, taken aback at his abrupt shift of mood. Maybe Mark was the one who ought to be worrying about ticking this man off, and not the other way around.
“What’s the Tears of the Quetzal?” he asked abruptly.
“It’s a diamond. It’s set into a ring, and my father calls it his most prized possession.” As Austin quirked a skeptical eyebrow, she added, “It’s a super-rare stone that changes color. It’s called a chameleon diamond. When you heat it up it changes from violet to green.”
“Cool.” A pause. “Why do the police have it?”
She sighed. “Candace borrowed or stole it—depending on who you talk to—the night she was murdered. The ring was gone when her body was found.”
Austin’s face lit up. “So if the cops have the ring, maybe that means they’ve got a lead on her killer.”
Silver replied fervently, “I hope so. That would be great news.”
“Yeah, but if the police are closing in on her killer, the guy’s probably hiding or on the run.”
His question sobered her sharply. “I dunno.”
“No idea at all?” he asked.
“Nope. None.”
Austin went silent, tugging absently at his left ear and staring out the window broodingly. She didn’t interrupt his thoughts, whatever they might be. She’d like to think a little of his steely resolve to keep her safe had to do with their two intimate exchanges, but that was probably wishful thinking. Now that she was sitting up in her own seat, not in physical contact with him, the crazy attraction of before seemed a little hard to believe. She’d been scared and high on adrenaline and had overreacted. Yeah, that was it. Her temporarily heightened senses explained it.
But they didn’t explain the thick sludge of disappointment that abruptly chugged through her veins. It had been an amazing feeling while it lasted.
A few minutes later the driver swung smoothly past the Grand’s acres of swimming pool and tennis courts and into the black maw of a gated entrance that looked like it led to a parking garage.
Before their rear fender had barely cleared the entrance, a reinforced steel gate was already sliding closed behind them. Darkness closed in. The limo spiraled down a long ramp, and then light flared ahead. She spied a familiar silhouette and started. Her father was down here personally to meet them? Either she was in big trouble for her display to the press, or Austin was about to get fired.
Reluctantly she reached for her door handle. Time to face the music.
A big, warm palm clamped down lightly over her hand. “Lesson number one in being a good protectee. Never get out of the car first. I will always get out before you and have a look around. Please don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe. Ever. Got it?”
She looked up at him, startled. Mark had never made her go through any routine like that. “So you’re pretty much always going to be a gentleman and get my door for me? I think I can get used to that.”
That killer grin of his flashed briefly, then was replaced by an expression more akin to sympathy. He seemed to understand that she was joking about this security procedure to hide her dismay at the seriousness of the situation.
His finger brushed her temple, pushing back that pesky strand of hair again, and then the quick, light touch was gone. But the earthquake it left behind continued to shudder through her for several long seconds. Whoa. No adrenaline heightened senses could explain away that.
Eventually her breathing restarted as she stared at the back of his head. Who was this guy whose casual touch made her all but orgasmic?
“Here we go,” he muttered.
As advertised, Austin stepped out of the vehicle and paused directly in front of the door. Heck, she couldn’t have gotten out even if she’d wanted to. It did, however, give her an excellent and isolated view of his buns. Tight. Muscular. Made for driving into a woman strongly enough to know she was with a man—
Good grief! She had to get control of herself! Heat climbed her cheeks just as he murmured, “Okay, you can