Green Beret Bodyguard - Carol Ericson

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She placed her hand in his, her smooth, cool skin like a drink of fresh water. “I hope…well, I hope you get better. I wrote my cell number on Emilio’s card, if you remember anything else or if you want to talk to my friend, or…”

       Jack squeezed her hand, studying her eyes, waiting for the shifting colors to give him some kind of signal. She blinked her dark lashes over the steady hazel, and Jack smirked at his foolish game.

       A desperate man took desperate measures.

       He allowed her to have her hand back and turned toward the door. “I’ll call if I remember anything about your brother.”

       “And what if I need to get in touch with you?”

       Was that the sign he’d been waiting for? The invitation to stay? He clenched his teeth. This isn’t a date, Jack.

       “I have your number. Maybe I’ll pick up one of those prepaid cell phones.”

       A rosy pink stole across her cheeks, but she plastered a quick smile on her face. “Good luck, then.”

       Jack slipped out the door and snapped it behind him. Bending forward, he flattened his palm against the door and heard the dead bolt click into place. Without moving an inch, he closed his eyes.

       The heat and vitality of Lola’s home buzzed through the door. Lola’s company had poured warmth into his soul. Her breath, her voice, her touch, had all animated him. Made him feel alive. Made him feel like more than a husk of a person. But she hadn’t asked for that role.

       He turned and headed for the elevator.

       He jabbed at the button, planning to exit through the garage. He’d been intent on getting to Lola’s place and hadn’t been as concerned as he should’ve been about someone following them. Maybe the would-be car thief wanted another shot at the silver-blue Mercedes.

       The elevator rumbled up the shaft, taking its sweet time, and Jack shifted sideways in case anyone came through the doors. The panel slid open on an empty car and Jack stepped forward.

       That was when he heard the scream.

      Chapter Four

      Lola stumbled backward. She banged her hip against the corner of the bathroom sink and yanked her towel from the rack. Her gaze darted from the big, dirty footprint in her tub to the window over the shower that someone—not her—had left open a tiny crack.

      Jack. Was he still here? She screamed and flew from the bathroom. She tugged at the front door, clutching the towel around her body with one hand.

       Tripping into the hallway, Lola almost sank to her knees in relief when she saw Jack lunging toward her door. She threw out a hand to steady herself, clutching the doorjamb, and choked out his name. “Jack.”

       His arms wrapped around her, his voice hoarse in her ear. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

       “Someone broke into my place.” She pointed a shaky finger back inside her condo.

       He tightened his hold on her. Her fist, still gripping the towel, smashed against her chest, but she felt safe in Jack’s arms.

       Still embracing her, Jack moved toward the gaping door. “He’s not still in there, is he?”

       She shivered. “Thank God, no, but I saw how he broke in.”

       A door opened down the hallway and a man poked his head out. “What’s going on? Are you okay, Lola?”

       Warmth touched Lola’s cheek when she realized she had only a towel clutched around her naked body. “I’m fine, Aaron, but I think someone broke into my place. You didn’t notice anything, did you?”

       “No, but my wife’s car was burglarized a few months ago. This neighborhood is going downhill. Let us know how he got in and if anything’s missing. We’ll discuss it at the next association meeting.”

       When Aaron retreated into his condo, Lola broke away from Jack. “I’d better check to see if anything’s missing.”

       He followed her inside and closed and locked the door behind them. “Tell me what happened. What did you see?”

       “I was getting ready to take a shower.” Tightening the towel around her body, she glanced back at him. “Thank God you were still here. For once I’m glad that elevator was so slow.”

       “Not that there’s much I can do now.”

       “No, but…” She wasn’t going to admit to him that his very presence in her condo soothed her. That his dark intensity and his honed muscles convinced her he could protect her from just about anything.

       She grabbed his solid forearm and dragged him down the hall to the bathroom. She pointed at the footprint marring the pristine porcelain of the tub. “He came in through the window and must’ve left that way. The footprint is pointing toward the window, so maybe he jumped over the tub when he came in and then stepped in a little water in the tub that muddied the bottom of his shoe when he left.”

       “Did you leave that window open?”

       “No. He must’ve done that on his way out.”

       “What’s on the other side? You’re on the third floor.”

       “There’s a balcony that runs along the outside. That’s why I always keep this window closed and locked.” Folding her arms across the towel, she dug her fingers into her flesh. “I always thought this window was too big for a bathroom.”

       Jack stood on the edge of the tub and examined the window without touching it. “Looks like the lock could’ve been forced. Call the police and report this. Maybe they can pick up some fingerprints.”

       Before her knees started shaking again, Lola flipped down the toilet seat and dropped on top of it. “I didn’t notice anything out of place in any of the rooms.”

       “So he was careful. It doesn’t mean he didn’t steal something. Have a look around.”

       “I’m going to get dressed first.”

       Jack’s brown eyes shifted to the edge of her towel and darkened to an impossible ebony. “I’ll check the rest of your windows and the sliding doors.”

       She pushed off the toilet seat and stopped at the bathroom door. “This has something to do with Gabe, doesn’t it? My car…all of it.”

       He came up behind her so close, his warm breath caressed the back of her neck. “Or me. Someone knows I’m back in the States. They must’ve figured I’d contact you.”

       Goose bumps rushed up her arms, and she tripped into her bedroom. Damn Gabe. How had he gotten into such a mess? And why did he have to drag her into it? And damn Jack, too. When her father died, she thought that shadow of danger always hovering in the background would disappear.

       She dropped the towel on the floor and scooped up the jeans and T-shirt she’d worn during the day. Perching on the edge of her bed, she grabbed the phone and called the police. This didn’t warrant a call to 911, but they assured her they’d send a patrol car to check it out.

       As she sat with the phone between her knees, Jack tapped on her bedroom door. “Yeah, come on in.”

       He nodded toward the phone. “You call the cops?”

       “I did. Should you take off before they arrive?” She held her breath. If she didn’t want him to leave before, she really didn’t want him to leave now.

       “Nah, they won’t be too interested in me, but I’ll give them a fake name just in case.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “All the other doors and windows seem secure. I went out to the balcony, and it looks like another partial footprint out there but nothing else, and neither one of those prints is clear.”

       “I haven’t even checked my stuff.” She bounded from the bed and

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