Guarding His Body
Renny watched her intently. With every stroke he let his detail-oriented eyes settle on her fingers. She had small hands, low-cut fingernails, no rings, no watch, no polish. Her touch was swift, methodical, yet he felt every stroke as if she were slowly guiding it over him, caressing him. He shifted his stance to relieve the tightness in his pants. “What are you doing?” he asked through a slightly cracked voice.
“I’m checking out your windows. I’ll need to wire the security system through here.” She moved from the patio door to the phone. She picked it up, put it to her ear and listened for a second or two, then put it down and lifted it to look at the underside. “No bugs.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I would hate to have to call an exterminator.”
She was moving toward the bedroom now and Renny felt his groin tighten.
“Don’t tell me you have a sense of humor.”
He tried like hell not to watch her butt as she walked in front of him, or to imagine that she was leading them right to his bedroom, to the bed where he’d dreamed of her only hours before. “Ah, yeah, something like that. But it’s still early.” He heard himself stumbling over his words. This was new for him. Of all the Bennett men he was the smoothest around the women, the charmer, the home-run hitter each and every time. “What exactly are you looking for?”
She was in his room now, turning her head this way and that, taking in everything he possessed. She paused at the bed. It was a four-poster Victorian antique he’d found on a trip to Paris. It sat on a platform in the middle of the floor, covered with cream-colored bedding that his mother had picked out.
“Wow! That’s a seriously big bed.” Bree was used to the military twin size. Even when she’d moved off base to her own apartment she’d purchased a full-size bed since it was only her. But this monstrosity looked like it could easily fit her, her two brothers, her sister and her two-year-old nephew.
“I like big things,” Renny said simply.
That remark poured over her as she found herself thinking he probably had a lot of big things in his possession. She couldn’t resist; she hadn’t wanted to, but it almost called to her. She stepped up on the platform, touched her hand to the thick dark wood and let it slide all the way down, then up again.
“How long have you lived here?” Bree asked, pulling her hand away from his bed. She wanted to sit on it, to feel what she knew would be soft against her back, but she digressed. She didn’t turn back to face him for fear he’d see the longing in her eyes, so she stepped down off the platform and went directly to the windows on the other side of the room.
“Ah, four years now.”
“And you haven’t done anything about security?” She turned to him then. “Americans are so gullible.”
Renny blinked quickly. “Excuse me?”
“We take our safety for granted. You simply believe you’re safe and trust that the local authorities will protect you from anything bad. When what you should be doing is ensuring your own safety. Protecting what’s yours.”
“Listen, Sabrina, why don’t you just tell me why you’re here? We can handle any business we have to and then you can be on your way.”
Bree blinked at his curt tone and hooked her fingers in her belt loops, an awful habit she had that drove her mother crazy. “You are my business,” she informed him. “I mean, you are my job. I have to secure your premises and then we need to go over your schedule and how we’ll be traveling for the next few weeks.”
“So, how long is this going to take? I have my own work to do.”
“Oh, you work?” She looked clearly surprised.
Renny tried not to take offense. “Yes, I work. What? Did you think I just sat around living off my father’s money all day?”
He looked angry now. His brow had scrunched together, his luscious lips growing into a tight line, and for a moment she felt concerned—for a brief moment. She moved closer to him. “Actually, I thought you spent your days scouring for what new woman you would take to your bed. Isn’t that what rich playboys normally do?” Who he took to his bed should not have concerned her, yet with a fierce certainty it did.
Now he was officially turned off. How dared she barge into his house at the crack of dawn insulting him at every turn? “You’re not a morning person. Your house isn’t secure enough.” And now, “You’re just an unemployed rich playboy.” In a minute he was going to lose all the good manners his mother had taught him and say a few things that would likely send little Miss Bodyguard running. “I’ll have you know I am very gainfully employed. Outside of Bennett Industries,” he said, lifting his head high and poking his chest out just a bit.
She raised a brow. “Really? And what is it that you gainfully do outside of Bennett Industries?”
She’d folded her hands over her chest, effectively pushing her plump breasts up a few inches so that he could see the smooth skin slipping into the crevice between them. Damn. He was turned on again. He clenched his teeth until he was sure he’d develop lockjaw. He’d never been this physically aware of a woman before. He preferred soft, compliant women. Women that wore ultrasexy, ultrafeminine clothes and treated their hair and makeup as if they were their only commodity.
So why was Sabrina Desdune getting under his skin so easily?
“I am a sculptor and I own an art studio.” For a minute he thought he’d had her stumped. She blinked quickly. Then the corners of her mouth upturned and she gave him a wry grin.
“Bored, are we? Or are you simply rebelling against Daddy?”
That was it! That was the last insult he was going to take from her without striking back. He moved to the soft Italian leather couch and sat down slowly, stretching one arm over the back of the chair while the other one rested in his lap. “I could ask you the same thing. Running around playing cops and robbers with your big brother. What’s the matter? You couldn’t find a man to marry you and knock you up?”
Without another word she scooped up her bag and turned her back to him.
Damn, he hadn’t thought she’d pick up and run. A part of him was enjoying their little sparring match. Besides Gabrielle, his youngest sister, he didn’t have this type of exchange with anyone else. He jumped up from the chair and was at her side before she could take another step. “I’m sorry, Sabrina. I was out of line. Don’t go.” He cupped her elbow, turned her to face him.
Her head tilted to the side, a few strands of her ponytail draping over one shoulder. Her eyes sparked and glittered with flecks of gold he hadn’t noticed before. Then she smiled. And Renny felt his chest tighten. She was quite simply breathtaking.
“Oh, you were way out of line, but I wasn’t leaving.” She tossed the words at him as she purposely turned quickly so that her duffel bag hit him square in the stomach. Then she moved to the matching couch he’d just vacated and plopped herself and her stuff down. “But I have a job to do and I plan to do it. We don’t have to like each other and we don’t have to know each other’s personal business. I’ll just need your schedule and then I’ll show you how to work some of this stuff. Then we should be set.”
Renny rubbed his hand over his midsection. The jab she’d tossed him hadn’t been the least bit painful, but his ego sure was taking a beating. He was used to women falling over him, batting their eyes and doing everything in their power to attract him. Sabrina acted as if she couldn’t care less whether he took his next breath or not.
The bodyguard situation was turning out to be just as bad as he’d thought it would.
Chapter 2
“So, do you want to talk about it?” Lynn set her cup on the table, picked up her napkin and folded it neatly in her lap. Jeremy was in the living room watching his morning cartoons. The sun streamed through the windows on another unusually warm October day. And her baby sister sat across the table from her, looking as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Bree shrugged. “There’s nothing to talk about.” For the first few months of her return Lynn had been the quiet one, the one person in her family hadn’t asked a million questions about her sudden decision not to reenlist. She loved the military, loved the life of a marine. She’d served in Desert Storm, done a year in Germany, a year in Japan and was happily based in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, when her glorious life came to a screeching halt.
“You were really happy in the service. You couldn’t wait to get away from here once you graduated from high school and you only came back on holidays. So I guess I’m just a little confused as to why you’re here now, doing this little security thing with Sam.”
Bree looked up at her sister, the oldest of the Desdune siblings. Lynette Desdune Richardson, her mother’s pride and joy. Lynn had always done the right things in her mother’s eyes. She’d been a cheerleader on the honor roll. She went to college, found a guy, married him and had a baby, exactly as planned. And in the last year that guy had walked out of her life, leaving her with a mortgage and a son to raise alone. Still, Lynn was the epitome of womanhood, according to her mother. She was tall and beautiful, with the coffee-brown skin that all the Desdune siblings shared, light brown eyes, full lips and a great body—yes, Lynn was the woman that Bree had secretly longed to be.
Even though she knew she’d definitely lose her mind if all she had to do from day to day was housework and taking care of kids, the small female percentage of her wanted the love of a good man and wanted that love to spill over into a couple of kids—but that wasn’t written in the scroll of her life; she accepted that. Besides, Lynn had a career now. She was an attorney at the Legal Aid Bureau. She said it was entertaining to say the very least, and Bree had to agree that her sister looked really happy. She wished she could feel that way.
“It was simply time to come home, Lynn. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” Bree bit into her muffin and tried to look away.
Lynn shook her head, sipped from her coffee cup, then smiled. “There’s nothing out that window that wasn’t out there yesterday or the day before. And you’re going to have to tell someone what happened sooner or later. I just thought you’d like to share with your only sister first.”
Bree frowned. “Oh, don’t give me that only-sister crap, I had to find out from Mommy that Roger had left. I didn’t see that sister bond reaching out then.”
“You weren’t here, Bree. You were doing your own thing and nobody really wanted to disturb you.”
“Except for Mommy, who wanted me to come home, anyway.”
Lynn smiled. “Mommy never wanted you to go. It was only because Daddy threatened to tie her up and lock her in her room that she didn’t board a plane and bring you home a million times herself.”
Bree laughed with her sister. “Yeah, Mommy never did understand.”
Lynn reached across the table, took Bree’s hand in hers. “But I do, Bree. I know that there is something going on, something that has hurt you deeply. I can see it in your eyes.”
Was she really that transparent? It didn’t matter, she’d failed. She’d been so headstrong and so determined to make her life mean something, to prove to her family that she was more than just the baby of the troop, that she could hold her own. Yet when it really came down to it, she’d been a childish dreamer and as a result she was sitting here in her sister’s kitchen, sleeping in her guest bedroom and working security jobs with her twin brother.
“I remember Mommy saying that there was nothing like growing pains,” she began in a hushed tone. “Now I know that she was right. Again. Mommy always seems to be right.”
“Not always. Remember she thought that white dress and those white pumps would look fabulous on you for your prom.”
Bree smiled at the memory. “Yeah, except I couldn’t walk on those stilts and I ended up wobbling right into Bobby Spencer, who was carrying two glasses of punch that immediately landed all over my dress.”
The sisters laughed over the memory.
“Growing up is hard. But for the record, I think you’ve done a wonderful job.” Lynn still held her hand.
“Yeah, whatever.” Bree snatched her hand away, not willing to go any further. If she continued to sit there, Lynn with her caring eyes and tender touch would have her talking about things that were better off left alone. She stood abruptly and carried her own dishes over to the sink and rinsed off her plate.
Lynn, who was taller than Bree by a couple of inches, came up behind her, wrapped her arms around her sister’s shoulders and hugged her tight. “It’s okay, you’re with family now, with the people that love and cherish you. Whenever you’re ready to talk, just know that I’m ready to listen.”
For a moment Bree’s heart filled and she wanted nothing more than to rid herself of all these hurtful feelings, but she just couldn’t. They wouldn’t understand why she’d done the things she had and she didn’t want to see the disappointment in their eyes. So she took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over her sister’s arm. “Thanks, Lynn. But I’m going to be okay. I’m going to find an apartment and make a life for myself here in Greenwich. This is my home and this is where I belong. I should never have forgotten that.”
When a yell from the living room pulled Lynn away, Bree stood at the kitchen sink, looking out the window in front of her.
Greenwich was her home but it had never emotionally filled her. She wanted to see the world, to find action and adventure, to live her life on the edge, and joining the marines was the closest she was ever going to get to that. Her first four years had been fantastic; she trained in the Special Weapons Division. Because that was what had intrigued her most and she’d mastered everything, from martial arts to taking apart a semiautomatic weapon and putting it back together again in less than ten minutes. She’d been having the time of her life.
Then all that had changed.
The phone rang, startling Bree out of her reverie. Hastily, she dried her hands on the dish towel and scooped the receiver off the mounting on the wall. “Hello?”
“What are you doing still home? You should be on your way to Bennett’s place.”
“Good morning, Sam. Yes, I’ve had breakfast and am about to start my workday. And how are you this glorious fall morning?” Sam’s voice had been curt, laced with a bit of tension. But then if she had to spend every evening with Leeza, she’d be stressed, too.
“Sorry, sis. I guess I’ve just got a lot going on this morning. But really, you should be on your way out. I hear Bennett is an early starter.”
Bree cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear and looked down at her hands. “Yeah, he gets up at the break of dawn, sort of reminds me of my days on the base.” She hadn’t cut her nails in a few days and was surprised to see the beginnings of growth. She’d never had fingernails before or worn fingernail polish for that matter. She wondered briefly what it would feel like.
“Alex says he’s opening an art gallery in a couple of weeks. You should probably check out his building and find out what type of celebration he’s planning. It might be a good time for a hit.”
Her adrenaline started to pump, slowly. “Really? You think it’ll go that far?” She pushed her hands into her pockets, not really sure why she was thinking about nail polish and stuff, anyway.
“I think we need to be prepared for anything. This merger is worth billions of dollars. A lot of people stand to become rich just as a lot of people stand to lose their jobs. It’s our duty to make sure our people are protected from whatever goes down.”
Bree nodded even though Sam couldn’t see her. Her brother had pored over those letters, studying every detail, the homicide detective in him never leaving the job the way Sam had. He said the Force was simply too restrictive. He wanted to really make a difference, so he set out to provide security for the citizens of Greenwich so that they wouldn’t end up on the desk of some homicide detective. “Well, I’m ready for whatever goes down.”
Sam chuckled. “You’re always ready for anything, Rambo.”
“That’s why you hired me.” She smiled. Sam hadn’t called her Rambo since she’d been back home. She realized she’d missed the stupid nickname.
“Well, get moving before I fire you. And, Bree?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful,” he warned solemnly.
“Be careful of what, Sam? We live in Greenwich.”
Sam sighed. “I know how you feel about our rural little town, but a lot of sick things have happened since you’ve been away fighting wars. It can get dangerous out there. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“Renny Bennett has a reputation and I don’t want you getting caught up in it.”
Now she was intrigued. Of course Renny had a playboy reputation. With those looks and that body, why shouldn’t he? But that had nothing to do with her; she was so not his type. “Please, I’m the last person he’s thinking about in that way.”
“Bree, just watch yourself around him. Okay? He’s smooth with the ladies and I don’t want to have to walk away from this job because he stepped out of line.”
“Sammy, you’ve clearly had too much coffee this morning. There’s no chance of that happening so don’t even worry about it. Now, I can’t get to work if I’m on the phone with you.”
“You’ve been forewarned,” Sam said before disconnecting the line.
Bree hung up the phone and ran back upstairs to get her cell phone and keys. She walked past the full-length mirror that hung on the wall near the closet and stopped. She’d put on khakis today, a powder-blue color that her mother had picked out for her. Her shirt still resembled a T-shirt but it had a slight V-neck and was the same pale shade as her pants. On her feet were purely functional Reebok classic tennis shoes and her hair was pulled back in her signature ponytail, except it swung loose today.
She stood to the side, studied her silhouette. She didn’t have a bad shape. Sure, she wasn’t as curvy as Lynn and didn’t look as soft as other women, her own muscled biceps flexing as she moved her hands up and down her body, but she was clearly a woman. She turned to get a frontal view. Her face was free of makeup. She never really liked the stuff, but looking at her plain face now she thought maybe some gloss would be okay. After moving to the dresser and finally finding a tube that wasn’t dried out or caked up, she smeared it on her lips, then groaned.
“You’re his bodyguard. This is so silly. He would never be interested in someone like you.” She swiped the back of her hand over her lips and sighed. “And you don’t want him to be, either.”
Without glancing in that traitorous mirror again, Bree grabbed her jacket, keys and phone and left the room. She had a job to do.
Renny had a busy schedule today. He needed to go by the foundry to check on a last-minute piece he’d added to the collection. Then he needed to go past the gallery to meet the decorator and go over the details for the opening with his general manager. And he had to squeeze in time to work on his newest piece. The piece that had been keeping him awake at night.
It was so clear in his mind and as he’d drawn it, he’d felt his pulse quicken, his breath hitch. He’d mounted the armature and had just started to apply the clay earlier this morning. He wasn’t sure if this piece would ever see the light of day. Still, he was compelled to finish it, to have the picture of her etched forever in bronze.
She’d been with him for the past two days. From sunup until sundown, she’d been at his condo hooking up one gizmo after the next. He found her to be very thorough in her duties. She checked and double-checked everything the moment she got there and just before she left. He felt like he was on display in his own home. She had cameras and motion sensors outside his door, along the windows, and bugs in his phone. It was as if he didn’t have any privacy left at all. Not that it was an issue since he never brought women to his home, anyway. It was simply too personal and the moment they were in his house, to their mind’s thinking, they were in his heart and in his pocket, neither of which he was allowing.
He loved women, but he didn’t want a permanent one. As in love as his parents were, Renny was in no hurry to have those emotional entanglements. It just wasn’t for him. He was too focused on himself, his work and his gallery. He’d be no good to a woman. His father had said as much the day he told him refusing to work for Bennett Industries meant he didn’t have a care for his future stability. To Marvin Bennett, being an artist was not stable, it was stupid.
Renny accepted his father’s view, but didn’t let it sway his decision. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to offer a woman the fame and fortune that went along with the Bennett name—because Marvin swore he wouldn’t leave Renny one piece of the company as long as he was playing around with clay and drawing. Renny had a handsome trust fund set up for him by his grandfather on his mother’s side, so he really wasn’t worried about being the proverbial starving artist, but women expected more from a Bennett. They expected to have it all once they landed him and he would ultimately have to disappoint them.
So instead, he dated, had sex and left soon after. There were no mornings waking up beside Renny Bennett, and if any woman dared to say she had, she was surely lying. A hotel or her place was the destination of choice, so he could get up and leave when it suited him. None of them even had his home number, and his cell number was changed periodically because he especially hated the ones that couldn’t let go. His brothers called him ruthless as a businessman when it came to women; he called it a necessity to his own survival and didn’t have any plans of changing his routine.
His bodyguard wasn’t here yet this morning, but then he was leaving a little earlier than she normally arrived. It didn’t matter; she had a key to his place, so if she wanted to go in and check on her gadgets she could. He really didn’t understand why he needed a bodyguard in the first place, and wondered what this little woman could actually do to protect him, anyway. She had loads of energy, though. She moved from the time she came in until the time she left. She drank her water, but he never saw her eat much. Yesterday, he had convinced her to have a slice of pizza, but she hadn’t sat down at the table to consume it. Instead she’d held it in one hand while she pored over maps of the city, saying they needed to have safe routes mapped out in case of an emergency. He’d gone back into his studio then. All her moving about was making him tired. He was as much of a workaholic as the next guy, but his job was more slow, more graceful, while hers seemed to be adrenaline driven, and she was really into it.
His mind had wandered out into the living room as he wondered what she was doing. Had she had enough to eat? When was she going to go to the bathroom after she’d consumed almost a half gallon of water in three hours? And was she biting on her bottom lip like she did when she was concentrating?
As he stepped through the door he shook his head. He shouldn’t even have thought about her lips or the fact that he’d remembered such an inconsequential detail about her like that. He checked the locks the way she told him and even smiled up at the camera just above the entryway. He had his bag on his shoulder as he took the stairs down to his car. Pulling his keys from his back pocket, he hit the button disengaging the alarm and was just about to open his car door when he felt a jab in his back.
He turned around quickly and was faced with her wrath.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going? You didn’t say you were going out today. And you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. You didn’t even look around or check your surroundings. You didn’t see or hear me come up behind you, did you?”
She was like a madwoman, spouting off questions, not waiting for answers. Her sienna eyes sparkling with anger, her chest heaving. Yeah, he found his eyes resting on her chest quite frequently in the past couple of days. He’d never considered himself a breast man before, but admitted that his fingers tingled each time he looked at the perfect roundness of hers.