The man who she really didn’t know all that much better now since their conversation remained completely superficial.

  They pretty much discussed meals and occasionally the weather.

  He let her choose what they watched on television, when he watched at all and didn’t have his nose in his phone.

  She did notice he paid more attention when she watched high action thrillers.

  Not a surprise really. Although that she’d been choosing more of those type of movies and less of the romantic comedies she usually watched was a surprise.

  She’d spent the first week in bed and had only seen Kyle when he came into her bedroom to bring her the meals she’d ordered for delivery.

  But that seclusion had started making her a little—make that a lot—stir crazy. She had cabin fever, ironically while she was in an actual cabin.

  It was a nice cabin. Huge. Modern. Gorgeous, from the architecture to the view. More importantly, it was quiet, off the grid where it sat on the side of a mountain.

  That mountain would be teeming with skiers and snowboarders once the snow fell but right now the place was pretty deserted. The perfect spot to hide away from paparazzi—and stalkers—while she healed.

  She didn’t need the tabloid articles speculating about her surgery. Maybe one day she’d come out publicly and talk about her BRCA test results and her very personal decision to have the surgery. But right now, while she healed, it felt like too much to deal with.

  Speaking of too much to deal with… her bodyguard had become as much of a housekeeper as he was her protector. But to his credit, he hadn’t complained even once about the extra duties .

  She’d honestly thought she’d be able to take care of things herself. When it turned out the recovery was harder than she’d anticipated, she’d told him she was going to hire someone to come in to help.

  He hadn’t liked the idea of bringing a stranger in. She hadn’t either, truth be told.

  She was worried about the story of her surgery leaking out. He was worried about news of her whereabouts getting out and danger sneaking in.

  In the end they agreed it was safer to keep the circle of those who knew small.

  Just when she’d been about to call Daniel and ask him to fly up to help her, Kyle had stepped in and taken on all the things she probably should have kept Daniel around to do. Although no doubt Daniel would have bitched about it every moment.

  So here they were. Just the two of them. In a cabin. Deep in the woods on the side of a mountain.

  Kyle glanced up and saw her watching him.

  “You okay? Do you need something?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s early for dinner but I can make you a snack if you’re hungry. Or tea. Do you want some tea? That herbal stuff you ordered got delivered yesterday.”

  He was half out of his seat, about to get her something she hadn’t asked for to make her more comfortable, when she said, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  He stilled and met her gaze. “I’m not. I mean, I’m just being normal.”

  “No, you’re not acting normal at all. The day you arrived I got the feeling that you were always…amused at my expense.”

  “Ah.” His lips twitched in a smile. “I’ve learned over the years that smiling pisses people off far more than cussing them out. More than insults or obscenities. Or even a punch in the face. Just smile at them when they’re not expecting you to and watch them freak out.”

  His current annoying smile reinforced the theory.

  “So you were trying to piss me off your first hour on the job?” she asked.

  “No…” He tipped his head to one side. “Maybe. A little. It kind of felt like you were trying to piss me off first. Like you didn’t want me there.”

  “I didn’t. I never wanted security. Daniel insisted.”

  “You didn’t want someone to protect you from your stalker?” he asked. “Were you going to take him or her on yourself? With kung fu, maybe?”

  She ignored the sarcasm. “It’s just—I’m never alone when I’m on a tour. And I’d been on tour for the better part of a year. I was looking forward to six weeks of solitude before going back out on the road. Then…”

  “Then creepy bathroom creeper happened,” he said, finishing the sentence for her.

  “Yes. And you didn’t even believe me about that.”

  He wobbled his head. “That was just… healthy skepticism. Before I knew you.”

  So she’d been right. He had thought she was the type to make things up for attention. Or overreact and blow nothing into a huge something.

  “I believe you now,” he said.

  “What changed?” she asked.

  “I got to know you better.” There was a sincerity in his eyes.

  Maybe they did know each other better than she’d assumed.

  “And I am sorry about always being around,” Kyle continued. “I really am trying to stay out of your way as much as possible. It’s just this room is the only one where I get good WIFI. I could try to find somewhere else—”

  “No. It’s fine. And thank you for trying to give me space. I don’t mean to make you feel unwelcome.”

  He smiled. “No worries. I don’t get my feelings hurt easily. And trust me. I can understand what it’s like to never be alone.”

  “Can you?” she asked with a laugh, not sure she believed him.

  “Yes. If you’ve never spent a few months on a ship out at sea with a thousand or so sailors, you’ll never know how close quarters can get. And I’m not talking about a yacht like in those pictures of you that I saw.”

  She groaned. Those damn pictures. Of course, he’d seen them.

  But what else he had said filled in some blanks about who and what Kyle Jones was when he wasn’t sitting in a chair in the corner of her living room trying to look unobtrusive. That was impossible for the man. He had a presence that couldn’t be ignored. A force of nature

  Even when he was silent. Even when he was as still as a statue for hours at a time, she felt him there. And it wasn’t just that he was physically large. Tall and muscular enough that chairs looked small beneath him.

  It was more than bulk. He had an aura of power that surrounded him like a visceral presence. She was aware of him wherever she was. It didn’t matter if he was in the room or not. Near or far.

  And maybe now she had a clue as to the origin of his quiet strength.

  A ship out at sea…

  “Were you in the Navy?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I still am.”

  She frowned. “Did Daniel request a military guard for me?”

  Was that even possible?

  He snorted out a laugh. “No. I’m on leave from my unit. No active duty for me with a busted ankle.” He glanced down at the foot he had propped up. “I decided to come home for a couple of months. But don’t worry. I’m healed up good enough to do this job.”

  She glanced at his foot skeptically. She’d noticed his limp from day one. And his occasional winces when he put weight on that one leg. “Are you good enough? I mean, what if you had to chase the person who’s stalking me? Can you run?”

  “I think so.” He nodded. “It’s much better than it was. But I won’t have to run.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because your stalker wouldn’t be running anywhere with a bullet in them.”

  She waited for him to laugh, or say he was joking, but he didn’t do either.

  “You’d really shoot someone for me?” she finally asked.

  “Someone who was here to do you harm? Yes.” He said it with such certainty. So matter of factly. As if this were a normal conversation for two people to have.

  “You’d…kill for me?” The words stuck in her throat.

  His face remained passive, but his eyes met hers and in them she saw an intensity that was almost frightening. “Kill. Or die.”

  The words, and the way he’d said them, stole her breath.

  This man would die for her.

  No one in her life had ever said those words to her. She didn’t think anyone alive would mean them even if they had said them… except for him.

  She swallowed hard.

  Uncomfortable as the weight of his words still hung between them she reached for the remote control. “Want to watch a movie?”

  “Sure. You pick one,” he said, affable as ever.

  And with that, she scrambled back to the safe zone. Small talk. Movies. Food. The weather. But she couldn’t deny that last conversation had happened. And it had changed something for her. For them. Forever.

  twelve

  “You know, you don’t have to do that. We can order in dinner,” Luna offered.

  Kyle paused in his chopping to glance at her. “I know we can, but I enjoy cooking.” And he’d had enough delivered meals during the first week of her recuperation to last him a lifetime.

  He got take-out on base. He ate MREs or chow hall food while deployed.

  Here, in New York State even if he wasn’t in his parents’ house, he wanted home cooking. Or at least as close as he could get in a rental on the side of a ski slope.

  He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed cooking until he started doing it here in the ski house.

  “And seriously,” he continued, sending her a glance. “You rented a house with a dining room table that seats twelve just for the two of us. We should at least make use of this enormous kitchen.”

  He gestured with the large knife in his hand to encompass the huge space filled with top-of-the-line professional quality appliances before he focused back on the butcher block.

  Standing at the kitchen’s island, he continued chopping the fresh herbs. The oregano and basil would go into the pot of tomato sauce simmering on the eight-burner stove in the kitchen that was larger than his entire barrack’s room back on base in Coronado.

  The motion of Luna shaking her head caught his attention.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  “No.” The flat tone of her answer had him putting the knife down.

  He leaned on his forearms and pinned her with a stare.

  Finally, she rolled her eyes. “Okay. Yes. Multiple problems.”

  “Such as?” he prompted.

  “First of all, I can’t cook. Like not at all. Considering my Puerto Rican heritage, and the fact my mother was an amazing cook, and now you being so good at it—it’s all making me feel inferior.”

  “Well, I can’t sing. So there you go. We all have our skills.” He lifted one shoulder.

  “I guess.” She scowled.

  Lifting the knife again, he went back to work, using short quick strokes. He felt her eyes on him and glanced up.

  Her gaze was on the growing green mound in front of him. On the leaves and stems that he’d turned into a finely chopped pile.

  She raised her eyes to focus on his face.

  “It’s not that I didn’t want to know how to cook. There just wasn’t much opportunity to learn on set when I was younger. And nowadays, I spend all my time on the road. So this…” She gestured with a flick of her wrist to encompass his chopping area. “You knowing what to put in the pot and chopping it so fast it’s like watching a video sped up. And you doing all of the cooking here. It makes me feel… I don’t know. Bad? Inadequate? All of the above.”

  She sighed.

  “Don’t worry about it. I told you, I enjoy it. And as far as not knowing how, it’s never too late to learn.” He smiled. “Maybe this is a good time to practice. We can watch a couple of cooking shows. You try something simple and you’re on your way. Problem solved. Next?”

  “What do you mean, next?” she asked.

  “You said you had multiple problems. What are the rest?”

  “Nothing.”

  It was obvious there was something else on her mind so he said, “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then how about this? There’s nothing I want to talk about. How’s that?” she challenged.

  There was an edge in her tone that reminded him of that day they’d first met. When he’d assumed she was a spoiled brat.

  “Okay. Suit yourself.” He went back to chopping and trying to ignore the fact that her being a brat made him want to put her over his knee and spank her behind. And then do other things to her.

  Fuck. Bad impulse. Bad thoughts. Bad bodyguard.

  This was what he got from working in a career that was basically a sausage fest. That last deployment, where he’d been injured, that was especially true.

  Luna was the first female he’d been around for any length of time since then. Add in the fact she was a particularly hot female, and he was like a walking, talking hard-on.

  He forced his focus back to the task in front of him and scraped the pile of greens into his hand.

  As he stirred the herbs into the pot, the smell of the sauce began to make his mouth water. And as was true of every time he ate really good homemade red sauce, it made him want red wine to go with it.

  His half-Italian grandmother’s influence perhaps. Or maybe a throw-back to the time he’d spent with the team training in Italy. Good times. Good food. Good wine.

  He’d noticed an unopened bottle of red wine on the pantry shelves the other day. Left here perhaps by a former renter. Or maybe the landlord. He didn’t know but he figured it was fair game if it was left out in the open.

  He was here to work. But one small glass wouldn’t affect his ability to do that. It took more than a glass of wine to make him unable to function. Especially after he filled his belly with a meal of pasta, salad, garlic bread and meatballs.

  He hesitated for barely a moment before he put down the knife and headed for the pantry, returning with the bottle.

  Digging through the drawers until he finally found a corkscrew, he glanced up at Luna.

  “Want some? Wait.” He rethought that offer. “Are you supposed to be drinking?”

  “I’m not taking the pain killers anymore.”

  “No, I mean are you even old enough to drink?”

  Shit. He truly hoped she wasn’t still in her teens given his attraction to her. She looked older but these days, it was hard to tell.

  He tried to remember if he’d read how old she was in any of those articles he’d seen.

  She scowled deeply at him. “Yes, I’m old enough. I’m twenty-five, thank you.”

  Phew. Okay. That was good. He could stop feeling like a dirty old man at only thirty years old.

  “Are you supposed to be drinking while you’re on duty, Mr. Bodyguard?” she asked.

  Bodyguard. He still wasn’t used to being referred to by that term. And he shouldn’t let himself get used to it. This was a temporary gig.

  God, how he hoped it was just a temporary gig.

  He ignored the ache in his ankle from standing and focused on her comment. “I’m only planning on having one glass. And trust me, I’d still be able to shoot the hairs off your stalker’s balls if I had to. Wine or no wine.”

  Her brows rose. “All right. Good to know.”

  After pulling out the cork with a satisfying pop, he turned toward the cabinet to grab a glass.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay, what?” He glanced back at her.

  “I’ll have a glass.”

  She’d taken so long to answer, he’d forgotten the original question. Meanwhile, he tried not to dwell on the fact that, thanks to his damn Pavlovian craving for wine, this was starting to feel like a date.

  He handed a glass to her and then moved back to the island. He put the knife in the sink and then wiped down the butcher block with a damp sponge.

  The rote work helped keep his mind off that whole date idea.

  The only problem was, he tended to clean as he cooked, so he was done too soon. Then there was nothing to do except drink wine and chat. And if that didn’t sound like a date, nothing did.

  At a loss for what to do next, all he could come up with was to talk about dinner. “That sauce has to simmer for a couple of hours and then I’ll make the pasta and toss the bread in the oven and we can eat.”

  “Want to watch a movie while we wait?” she asked.

  Dinner and a movie… Yup. Sounded like a date to him.

  This was a job. Not a date, he argued with his own head.

  “Sure. Why not?” he said as he tried to reason out what his issue suddenly was with her and this job.

  It had to be that he wasn’t used to his assignments being so… easy.

  He wouldn’t dare complain he wasn’t sleep deprived or dodging bullets. But seriously, the lack of action meant that his job as bodyguard left him with hours to fill and not all that much to do during them, except be hyper aware of Luna.

  He’d read some books on his phone in the reading app. He’d taken to cooking three meals a day and shopping for and ordering all the ingredients that required. And they’d watch TV.

  Now that he thought about it, it was just like one really long and kind of boring date that felt like it wasn’t ever going to end. And one that certainly was not going to end in sex.

  He shoved that last thought firmly aside and concentrated on getting through tonight. The only easy day was yesterday.

  But a movie sounded good. That would kill a couple of hours nicely. He grabbed his glass, checked the burner heat one more time, then headed to his usual chair in the corner of the living room.

  “What did you want to watch?” he asked her.

  “There’s a new movie that released today that I wanted to see.” Luna navigated the remote control like a pro.

  Before he knew it, she’d paid for and rented the newest release and was ready to watch.

  His eyes widened when he saw what she’d paid for the movie. Twenty-nine bucks plus tax for premiere access to see the same flick he could have seen at the Mudville Drive-In for eight bucks. And that would have been a double feature. But it was her money.

  The differences between their finances and their positions—star and bodyguard—had never been more apparent. At least to him. He doubted they were to her as she glanced in his direction.

  “Can you see from over there?” she asked.

  He considered that question carefully.

  Given what she’d paid, of course he wanted to make sure he could see. But the fact remained that the more distance he kept between them, the better. Especially when she looked all soft and warm the way she did now, tucked into the corner of the modular sofa under a blanket.

 

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