A Time to Die. BEVERLY BARTON
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of certainty and determination in his dark gray eyes.
Lexie’s heart skipped a beat. Heaven help her! She instinctively understood that Deke Bronson had claimed her, and his possessive attitude felt oddly personal. If this was some sort of one-upmanship between the two Dundee agents, she really didn’t understand why either would consider her the prize. After all, Cara Bedell was the billionaire heiress.
“Look, whichever one of you is my guy, I’m ready to leave,” Cara told them in an authoritarian tone, one she had perfected from years of having underlings jump at her every command. Lexie knew that Cara didn’t realize how extremely bossy she was, how often people misunderstood her aggressive personality, mistaking it for arrogance and rudeness.
The two agents shared a quick, hard glance, then Geoff Monday walked over to Cara, grinned and gestured toward the door. “Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Bedell.”
“Lexie, I’ll be in touch first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, the police—” Cara cast Bain Desmond an imperious glare “—will have some information for us by then and we’ll know how to proceed.” She turned to Deke Bronson. “Take good care of Lexie. She’s one of the few people I know who’s actually worth her weight in gold.”
Deke nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
As soon as Cara and Geoff left, Lexie smiled at the Dundee agent. “If you’ll give me just a minute, I’ll be ready to go.”
He nodded.
“He’ll be staying with you 24/7,” Cara had told her, after she’d made the arrangements—without first consulting Lexie for an opinion—explaining that she had hired a couple of Dundee agents to act as bodyguards for the two of them. “I’d feel better if you moved in with me for the time being, but I know you won’t do that. So do not argue with me about needing around-the-clock protection. Until we know who and what we’re dealing with, we have to work under the assumption that your life is in danger.”
Hours after the explosion, Lexie was still a bit shaky and unnerved. Leaning heavily on her cane, she walked over to Bain. As she placed her hand on his arm, she felt Deke Bronson’s intense stare. In her peripheral vision, she noticed that he was watching her closely. Don’t assume anything, she told herself. It’s nothing personal. It’s his job to watch over you.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” Lexie told Bain. “I was looking forward to the burgers and our getting started on your Christmas shopping.”
“Another time.” Bain patted her hand affectionately, then glanced over at Deke. “Take good care of her. When it comes to Lexie, Ms. Bedell is right. Only I’d say Lexie is priceless.”
“I’ll protect Ms. Murrough with my life,” Deke said.
Bain lifted an eyebrow. Lexie’s breath caught in her throat.
She kissed Bain on the cheek. When she turned to Deke, she noted the scowl on his face and the tension in his jaw. Undoubtedly he was one of those people who didn’t approve of showing affection in public. Well, too bad. She believed in it. She was a touchy-feely person. She hugged and kissed friends without giving her actions a second thought.
“My car or yours?” she asked as they walked out into the hallway, Deke two steps behind her.
“Yours. I drove over from Atlanta in a rental, which is supposed to be picked up later today. I believe someone on Ms. Bedell’s staff will take care of that chore for us.”
He paused just outside the door, picked up a black duffel bag and hoisted it over his shoulder, delaying their departure by half a minute.
When they arrived at the elevator, Deke reached around her and punched the down button. When the doors slid open, he grasped her arm, preventing her from entering. After he gave the interior a visual inspection, he urged her forward and into the car. Only then did he release her arm and hit the lobby-level button
“It’ll take some getting used to, having a bodyguard,” she told him.
“If you’ll remember that everything I do is intended to keep you safe, we shouldn’t have any problems.”
“Hmm…I’ll try to remember that.”
She tried not to stare at him, but that didn’t prevent her from being completely aware of him. He stood almost a foot taller than her own five-five, and he outweighed her by a good seventy-five or eighty pounds. His masculine presence filled the small elevator. Then there was the way he smelled. Clean and musky at the same time. Soap-and-water clean, a slight hint of some mild aftershave, and a male scent that was purely his own.
Neither of them spoke again until they reached the lobby, then he asked, “Where’s your car?”
“In the employees-only parking lot in the back.”
“Which door do we take to reach the parking lot?”
“Normally, we’d take the back.” She glanced in that direction and noted the yellow police tape cordoning off the area.
He grasped her elbow. “Out the front, then.”
Once outside on the street, she led and he followed, down the block and up the side street until they reached the alleyway behind the buildings. Sunset came fairly early in November. Shielded by the buildings on either side, the alley was dark and shadowed, even though it wasn’t yet twilight. Deke made two quick, decisive moves. Subtle moves. He unbuttoned his jacket, then clamped his big hand around Lexie’s upper arm. When he touched her, she instinctively glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. His attention was focused on their surroundings, his gaze scanning the alley, the back doors of the buildings and the four cars parked in the lot. Her eyes traveled from his lean, chiseled face down his thick neck to his broad shoulders and wide chest. As he moved, his open jacket shifted, and she caught a glimpse of his shoulder holster.
For half a second, Lexie couldn’t breathe. She hated guns. It was the one thing she disliked about Bain Desmond—that his chosen profession dictated he carry a 9 mm handgun.
She should have realized that a professional bodyguard would carry a gun. If she asked him to remove the weapon and not carry it, he would probably think she was crazy. And he would no doubt refuse.
“Which is yours?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“Which car is yours?”
“The white Subaru SUV.”
She snapped open her purse, rummaged inside and pulled out the keys. He took them from her, marched her to the passenger’s side, unlocked the vehicle and held open the door for her.
“Are you driving?” she asked. “Since I know where we’re going, wouldn’t it be simpler if I—”
“I’ll drive.” No discussion. No compromising.
She nodded.
“Do you need assistance?” He eyed her cane.
She shook her head, grasped the door, propped her cane against the console, then heaved herself up and into the SUV. Once she was inside, he closed her door, walked to the back, opened the hatch and tossed his duffel bag inside.
After he opened the driver’s-side door and got behind the wheel, he asked, “Where do you live?”
“If I were driving, I could take us directly there instead of navigating you through rush-hour traffic.”
“And if you were driving and someone tried to force us off the road, would you know what to do?”
His question surprised her. The thought had never entered her head. “Oh. I’d never thought of that. Is that the reason…?”
“I told you, there will be a reason for everything I do.” He started the engine. “It will make things easier if you simply accept that fact instead of questioning my actions.”
“I’m sorry, but I find it difficult