The Bodyguard & Ms Jones. Susan Mallery
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if his family tree held the evolutionary missing link.
Mike was broad and strong, tanned with rippling muscles that made her wish he never had to put a shirt on again. His smooth skin made her fingers tingle and her palms itch. He had a strong nose and a square chin. He could have used a couple more inches of hair—she wasn’t fond of the military cropped cut—but what was there was thick enough to make him the star of a shampoo commercial. Altogether, he was an impressive male specimen and she didn’t know what on earth she was going to do with him. Fortunately, except for helping him get well, nothing was required.
“I unpacked a few of your things,” she said, pulling open the top drawer of her dresser and taking out shorts and a T-shirt. “I thought you might like to get dressed.”
“That would be great. Maybe later.”
When she turned around to look at him, he’d already set the spoon down and was leaning against the pillows. He’d finished all the soup and two of the crackers.
“Do you want some more?” she asked.
“No. I’m weaker than I thought.”
“You’ve been through a lot. What with being shot and all.”
He rubbed his chin and grimaced. “You got this funny look on your face when you said that.”
“Said what?”
“Shot.”
“Not many people around here have much experience with that. We don’t get a lot of terrorist activity in the suburbs.”
“It’s not a lot of fun.”
“You’ve got painkillers,” she said, walking toward one of the duffel bags. “Do you want one? And please, don’t try to be macho and impress me. I’ve got children, I’m immune.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She dug around for the pills, then shook one out onto her palm. “You know, I find it fascinating that you travel with so little luggage. Do you have things in storage somewhere?”
He took the pill from her and downed it with a single gulp of water. After wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he shook his head. “No furniture or anything. I have my work clothes. Suits, shirts, that sort of thing. I dropped them off at a cleaners in L.A. and he keeps them until my next job. But I don’t need a whole lot.”
“You’re just like my dad. He traveled light, too. If something was too much of a bother, he didn’t want it around. It was one of the reasons we never had a dog.” She leaned against the footboard post and folded her arms over her chest. She knew men like Mike traveled light emotionally as well as physically. “One day his family got to be too much bother, so he left us behind, too.”
Mike grimaced. “That’s one of the reasons I never married. In my line of work, it’s a mistake.”
“You never wanted a home life? Something stable, something of your own?”
“Nope.” His brown eyes held hers. “Not my style.”
In her heart, she knew exactly what Mike’s style would be. He had the looks to turn any woman’s head. He would seduce her easily, then move on. He seemed nice enough to issue a warning first, but women too often believed they could change a man, maybe even make him want to stay. Cindy knew better.
“My stepfather was just like my dad,” she said. “I guess my mom was attracted to the type.”
“Where did that leave you?”
“Alone.”
“Is that why you’re a teacher with two-point-four children?”
“I guess so. I wanted them to have what I never had. A stable home life. Two parents who really cared about them. I was determined to marry someone sensible. Unfortunately, I picked Nelson.” She moved closer to him and reached for the tray.
“Better luck next time,” he said.
“Right.” Next time she was going to do the leaving so it wouldn’t hurt so much. “You’re looking pretty tired. Why don’t you try and get some rest?”
Mike shook his head. “I was going to tell you I’m fine, but I can’t keep my eyes open. I appreciate this, Cindy. I’ll get out of here tomorrow.”
“Don’t be foolish.” She started walking toward the door. “According to your doctor, you’re going to be here for at least another week. You haven’t been any trouble. Besides, it’s summer vacation. Having you around keeps the kids from being bored.”
She turned back to him. Mike was sprawled out on the pillow, already asleep. A short lock of hair fell over his forehead. His tanned torso contrasted with her pale sheets. The bed and linens had been purchased since the divorce, so Mike was the first male to sleep there.
“Ah, Cindy, you live a wild life,” she told herself as she walked into the kitchen. “What would the neighbors think if they knew you had a nearly naked man in your bedroom in the middle of the day?”
The way her luck with men ran, Mike was about as good as it was going to get. She was fooling herself when she said she planned to be the one leaving next time. There wasn’t going to be a next time. It was so much easier not to get involved at all.
Cindy looked up when she heard the knock on her back door. Beth waved and turned the knob.
“I came by to say hi,” Beth said.
“Sure you did.” Cindy added the flour mixture into the wet ingredients and stirred. “You wouldn’t be the least bit interested in how Mike is getting along.”
Beth stuck her finger in the bowl and scooped out a taste. She licked off the batter. “You make the best peanut butter cookies on the block. You must be adding something I don’t know about. And you have to admit, life is certainly more interesting since your young man came to stay with you.”
“He’s not a young man, he’s close to forty. He’s also not mine. And to answer the question I see burning in your eyes, yes, last time I checked he was asleep.”
Beth grinned. “Oh, goody!” She slipped off her sandals and walked quietly across the floor. “Yesterday he had his sheet all bunched up around his waist. Do you think it’s still like that?”
Cindy rolled her eyes. “Beth, he’s been up and sort of staggering around since then. I doubt he’s in exactly the same pose. While we’re on the subject, I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate knowing you come to look at him like he’s some animal on exhibit at the zoo.”
“Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud. How often does a handsome man just fall into our lives? We must take advantage of the situation. Strike while the iron’s hot. Seize the day. Begin as—”
“How many more clichés?”
Beth grinned again. “You don’t appreciate me, Cindy. And you should. I’m not just a good friend, I’m highly entertaining.” She tossed her head, sending her spiked bangs dancing across her forehead, then turned and headed for the bedroom.
It was several minutes before she returned. Cindy had already filled two cookie sheets and stuck them in the oven. She was filling a third when she heard an exaggerated sigh.
“He’s incredibly gorgeous.”
She glanced up and saw Beth leaning against the doorway to the dining room. She had a hand pressed against her chest. “I swear I got palpitations just looking at him. Feel.”
“Thank you, I’d rather not.”
Beth walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “My Lord, how do you stand it? He’s just lying there, naked.”
“He’s