Читать книгу Colton's Secret Bodyguard - Jane Godman - Страница 11

Bree looked down at her empty plate with a contented sigh. After a three-course meal that would have graced the menu of the most elegant restaurants she’d visited, she regarded Rylan with newfound respect. “You are the only person I’ve met who has a signature dish that deserves the name. Where did you learn to cook?”

“I taught myself. I figured, as a single guy, I could live on takeout and microwave meals, or I could enjoy my food.”

As a single guy. The matter-of-fact statement intrigued her, made her want to ask him more questions. Why was he single? Why did he sound so sure he would stay that way?

Instead, she tilted her wine glass toward him. “The meal was a charming gesture. Thank you.”

A corner of his mouth turned upward. “I have a confession to make.”

Her heart began to beat a little faster. “You do?”

The smile deepened, quickly becoming irresistible. “I hoped you’d be charmed.”

This was where she should smile seductively. Maybe twirl her hair and bat her lashes. Even trail a finger down his bicep. The problem was, Bree didn’t do flirting. The only times she had attempted it she’d either knocked things over or came across about as sexy as a lost puppy. Since she really liked Rylan, she wasn’t going to scare him off by trying.

“Do you live in Roaring Springs?” She almost groaned out loud. Just because she didn’t flirt, did she have to turn the conversation around and make it sound like a job interview?

Rylan didn’t appear to notice. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his long legs in front of him. Although he had drunk one glass of wine at the start of the meal, he’d switched to water because he was driving. He took a sip before he spoke. “Not quite. I was born near Denver, but I joined the army when I was eighteen. When I got out, I went into business and traveled around a lot. But I always planned to settle down in Colorado, and—” He broke off abruptly, making her wonder what he’d been about to say. “I had an army buddy who talked about his home here in Roaring Springs. When I sold the business, I found a ranch a few miles west of here.”

“You’re a rancher in your spare time?” She raised her brows at him.

He laughed. “I’m a lot of things in my spare time.”

“I can see that.” She started to count on her fingers. “Soldier. Chef. Rancher. Art promoter.”

She wasn’t sure she could pinpoint exactly what it was that changed about his manner. It was as if her words made him watchful. “I’m new to the art world. As you can probably tell.”

Bree frowned, sensing that he was closing down a line of conversation that made him uncomfortable. Since she didn’t know him well enough to prod further, she was forced to let it go. However, the knowledge that he could be hiding something nagged at her. What bothered her even more was the idea that, after knowing him for less than a week, she cared that this man might be keeping secrets.

“You said you went into the army at eighteen.” She decided on a different approach. “Didn’t you come back to visit your family between then and now?”

He hunched a shoulder. “There was no one to visit. I’m an only child. My father died when I was twelve, and cancer took my mom just before I enlisted.”

Bree sensed a whole world of pain behind those words. Reaching across the table, she took his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He responded with a slight smile. “I’m thirty-four. Being on my own is what I do best.”

“Coming from such a large extended family, I can’t imagine how that would feel.”

Rylan looked around the spacious, elegantly furnished loft apartment. “I guess being a Colton has its advantages.” It was the same assumption many people made, but somehow it hurt more coming from him. As Bree made a movement to withdraw her hand, Rylan tightened his grip. “Hey.” His gaze scanned her face. “What did I say?”

Usually, she avoided explanations, but his opinion mattered. “Thanks to my mom’s tenacity, my dyslexia was diagnosed early. I went to a public school for pupils with learning disabilities, not a private school. Our parents wanted to keep us grounded, so they made sure Trey and I had chores on the farm. I grew up loved and cherished, but I was taught that working hard, not money, is the key to success.” She cleared her throat. “So when I wanted to pursue art as a career, my mom and dad were unsure if I was capable of meeting the academic demands of a college course. To show them what I could do, I paid my own way through art school with a series of side jobs.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I came into my inheritance on my twenty-fifth birthday. I’m now twenty-seven.” She waved a hand to indicate her surroundings. “The gallery, my business, my reputation, this apartment... You think I achieved all that in just over two years?”

“Bree, I’m sorry.” Rylan caught hold of her free hand, stopping it from fluttering. He held both her hands in a strong, warm clasp. “I jumped to an incorrect conclusion, and I’ve offended you.”

She exhaled slowly. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. I overreacted. Sometimes the name Colton can be a burden.”

He bent his head, grazing the knuckles of her right hand lightly with his lips. The action sent pleasurable little bursts of heat shimmering along her nerve endings. “Tell me what you did.”

“Hmm?” She’d been too focused on the sensation of his mouth on her flesh to concentrate on the words.

“How did you build up your business before you came into your inheritance?”

“Oh?” Were they still on that topic? “Even in art school, I was selling my own work for really good prices. I used the proceeds to buy new pieces, and before long, I was getting great returns on my investments.”

He raised his brows in acknowledgment of her achievement and she allowed herself a little smile of pleasure.

“I was also making a name for myself in the art world, showcasing my own work and that of other African American artists. That was how Wise Gal was born. When it came to finding a site for the gallery, real estate in the Diamond was low in price with incentives for new businesses, so it was the obvious place.”

Rylan smiled. “Wise Gal? I figured it was a joke, but I can see it has a deeper meaning for you.”

Bree nodded, pleased at his understanding. “Growing up in a family of overachievers was hard. I didn’t make those childhood milestones on time and, as a consequence, felt like I was always running faster than my cousins just to keep up.” She gave a self-conscious laugh. “While my family was worrying about me, I was always aware that being different is an important part of who I am. I don’t necessarily see my dyslexia as a gift, but I believe it is linked to my creativity. It may sound corny, but I feel my artistic vision is stronger than my ability to see characters on a page.”

The way Rylan was looking at her made her breath catch in her throat. “That’s a very inspiring way to view your condition.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you heard my language when I try to read without text-to-speech software,” she said. “But to return to your comment about the gallery name... Yes, it’s a play on words. I may not be a wise gal in the traditional sense, but the little Colton cousin who couldn’t speak in sentences until she was nearly five hasn’t done too badly.”

“I’d say you’ve done very well.” Rylan’s voice was deep and smooth, like cream poured over chocolate. It made her insides melt.

Conscious that she was gazing into his eyes and clutching his hands as if she might never let go, Bree roused herself from her trance. “Let’s take the dishes through to the kitchen, and I’ll load the machine.” Reluctantly, she stood. “The least I can do is take charge of the clean-up operation.”

She was smiling up at him as she got to her feet, but the smile faded when he rose with her. His nearness was a dangerous reminder of an attraction that could easily spin out of control. With only inches between them, desire rippled through her, driving the breath from her lungs. She saw an answering flare in the depths of Rylan’s eyes.

For an instant, his gaze hooked her and held her, refusing to let her go. Then he blinked, and the spell was broken.

“I’ll make coffee.” His voice was slightly husky. “Point me in the direction of your machine.”

“Follow me.” Bree carried their plates through to the open-plan kitchen. “I was out of coffee, but I got some from the store at lunch time.” She indicated a cabinet above the coffeemaker. “The new pack is in there.”

As she bent to open the dishwasher, she heard Rylan searching through the shelves. After a minute or two, he closed the door. “I can’t find the coffee.”

Bree straightened. “Are you one of those guys like my dad?” she teased. “If it doesn’t jump out at you the first time, you just give up?”

“Ahem.” He crooked a finger at her. “Come and find it for me, wise gal.”

Chuckling, Bree went to stand beside him. Since she knew exactly where she had placed the coffee, she suspected this was a ruse to get her close to him. If so, she was happy to play along.

Except...where was the coffee? She turned her head, frowning at Rylan over her shoulder. “It was right here.” She indicated the empty spot on the shelf where she had placed the new pack of coffee beans earlier that day.

“Hey.” He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “It’s not a problem. There’s an all-night convenience store on Second Street, right? I can just—”

“It’s not that.” She stopped biting her lip long enough to blurt out what was bothering her. “This has happened twice today.”

His grip tightened slightly. “You’ve already lost your coffee once before now?” Although the words were light, his gaze was intent.

“No.” Quickly, Bree told him about the incident with her recorder. She brought her hands up across her body to grip her forearms. “I think of my brain as a filing cabinet. Because I’m dyslexic, the drawers weren’t labeled properly when I was born. That means I have to be extra organized. If I’m not, I can file something in the wrong drawer and lose it forever. I don’t make mistakes like this.”

“You’re under a lot of pressure with a big show coming up,” Rylan reminded her.

She tilted her chin. “I accepted what happened with the recorder as a mistake on my part for just that reason. Maybe I mislaid it, and someone found it and returned it to my office. But this?” She gestured to the empty space in the cupboard. “I know I bought coffee, and I know I put it right there.”

“Does anyone else have a key to your apartment?” Rylan asked.

“Only my mother, but why would she come down here without telling me just to move my coffee?” The question struck her as so ridiculous that she had to bite back a laugh, even though she didn’t find the situation remotely amusing. Could she actually be losing her mind?

“I don’t want to alarm you, but this is classic stalking behavior.”

“Is it?” Bree wrinkled her brow. “How do you know that?”

There was a momentary pause before he answered. “I must have read it somewhere. The stalker moves, damages or hides the victim’s belongs. It unnerves her, making her think she’s imagining things. Has anything else been happening lately that could be linked to this?”

She swayed toward him slightly, her mind on the emails. Was it possible the two things were related? She instinctively trusted Rylan, but she barely knew him. Did she really want to start sharing secrets with him?

* * *

Tell me about the emails, Bree.

For a second, Rylan thought she might be about to open up to him. Then she gave him that too-bright smile and he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Had he blown it with his comment about stalking? The words had left his lips before he’d thought them through. Even though he regretted them now, the comparison was accurate. In his work as a private security consultant, Rylan had protected several celebrities who’d been threatened by obsessive fans. He knew most of the tactics.

Although he hadn’t seen the emails, he was convinced this was the start of some low-level scare tactics. He was willing to bet the coffee would turn up again in a day or two, in the exact place Bree had left it. The person who was doing this would be close by, observing her confusion and distress, enjoying the impact of his actions. The biggest problem was that Rylan knew from experience that most stalkers weren’t content to stick with the minor stuff. Having fixated on Bree, this guy would soon be planning something bigger and bolder.

She’d said that the only person who had access to her apartment was her mom. Although Bree might try to brush this aside as a forgetful episode, Rylan wasn’t convinced. Which meant someone other than Audrey was able to get into Bree’s home. He didn’t want to frighten her, but the image of a shadowy figure slipping into her bedroom while she was asleep chilled his blood.

“You should change your locks.”

Bree blinked. “You seriously think someone came in here?”

“You told me your family has been having a few problems. A brick was thrown through the gallery window a week ago. Your recorder and coffee going missing may be unconnected.” He became aware that his hands were still on her shoulders, and he slid them slowly down to her upper arms. “But it couldn’t hurt to tighten up your personal security.”

Her perfect white teeth caught briefly on the plump cushion of her lower lip, and everything Rylan knew about himself started to unravel. Tough. Professional. In control. In that moment, he was none of those things. All he wanted to do was wrap Bree up and protect her from anything that could cause her harm.

Could he really have developed such strong feelings for a woman he barely knew? He almost laughed out loud. There was no “could have” about it. The first time he had seen Bree, he had been rocked by an emotion so tender, wild and all-consuming, he knew his life had changed. Turning his back on her now wasn’t an option, even though he was terrified by what was happening to him.

Rylan didn’t do vulnerability. The son of an alcoholic, abusive father and a downtrodden mother, his early life had been about dodging the blows—physical and emotional. Although his father’s death freed him from fear, the damage had been done. Worthless. Weak. Cry baby. Mommy’s boy. He’d spent the rest of his life fighting those labels. Now he’d met Bree and, for the first time, his iron control had snapped.

Was he prepared to give his feelings a name beyond heady physical desire? After all, he had known her less than a week. As for how much he wanted her... Rylan had never known it was possible to feel this way. His whole body was humming with awareness of her. It was so intense that he was waging a constant internal fight to stop himself from saying to hell with the disguise. For once in his life, maybe he should forget he was a stand-up guy. Just follow his instincts, lean in closer and taste those pink parted lips...

With an effort, he forced his attention back to the subject at hand. “Your brother is the sheriff of Bradford County. Why not ask his advice?”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “I love Trey very much, but I don’t want him marching in here in full-on overprotective-big-brother mode. Not when I don’t even know if there’s a problem.”

Rylan shoved a hand through his hair. He could see why her parents were half-crazy with worry about her. There was a problem, but Bree was determined not to face it. Since he wasn’t supposed to know about the emails, he couldn’t use them as evidence that she was in danger. Instead, all he had was the brick through the gallery window and the possibility that someone was moving her property.

Rylan was like a man caught between two fires. His determination to protect her was stronger than ever. It was no longer a favor to Blaine. This was all about Bree. But if he was going to guard her properly, he had to stick close. And that meant enduring more of this agony.

As Bree reached up a tentative hand and stroked his cheek, her touch hit the center of his chest, making his heart beat faster. It also connected with another point, one south of his belt buckle.

Her smile was shy. “The meal was delicious.”

Catching a hold of her wrist, he dropped a kiss onto her palm. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

As she rose on the tips of her toes to move closer, Rylan sensed her nervousness. “Is it over?”

He almost groaned aloud. This was the worst kind of torture. Clasping her hands to his chest, he pressed his lips lightly to the corner of her mouth. “I have to go. I’m needed at the ranch.” He didn’t feel good about the lie but consoled himself that it was necessary.

“Oh.” Her eyelids fluttered, long lashes shadowing her cheeks. “Of course, you have animals to care for.”

She was probably picturing a traditional ranch with cattle or horses. Since she was unlikely to ever visit his home, there was no reason for Rylan to explain that the reality was very different. Even so, his lips quirked into a smile at the thought of his assortment of misfits.

Bree’s golden eyes scanned his face. Apparently satisfied at what she saw—he was fairly sure there was no hiding the regret he was feeling—she gave a tiny nod. “I can’t cook, but maybe I can take you out to dinner to return the favor?”

His smile widened. “I’d like that. A lot.”

She reached up and hooked a hand behind his neck, pulling his face down until they were nose-to-nose. With her breath fanning his lips, her voice was barely a whisper. “So would I.”

When she kissed him, she tasted of the strawberries and melon they’d eaten for dessert. Her lips were deliciously sweet, tender and warm on his, and as their mouths parted and tongues entwined, his thoughts shut down. All he could smell was Bree’s light floral perfume. All he could hear was her cotton skirt rustling against his jeans. All he could feel was the heat of their bodies and how good she felt in his arms.

Breaking that kiss was like a physical pain, but he couldn’t let things go any further. “I really do have to go.” Bree looked slightly dazed as she walked with him to the door. “Make sure you lock this behind me.”

She laughed. “You’ve met my mom, right?”

Where was this going? Had he given something away? Cautiously, he nodded. “Yes.”

“Locking my door at night is one of her obsessions. That and eating plenty of fiber.”

He grinned. “I’ll settle for the door.”

When it was closed, he waited until he heard the lock click into place before making his way down the stairs that led to the parking lot at the side of the Diamond. Bree might be careless with her personal security, but Rylan knew she would be safe for the rest of the night. How could he be sure? Because he would be hunkered down in his car, watching over her apartment until daybreak.