Читать книгу Colton Family Bodyguard - Jennifer Morey - Страница 13

Having confirmation that the man Evie saw being dumped into a car trunk was dead unsettled Hazel much more than she’d anticipated. Evie had seen the man knocked over the head with a rock. They didn’t know if that had killed him. Sure, she had contemplated the possibility, even the likelihood, but having it become fact put them up against a killer. A killer!

Callum held the station door for her and Evie, whom she held since her eyes were drooping with the late hour. She saw him scan their surroundings. He put his hand on her back protectively and then his head stopped moving. She followed his gaze and saw a white car drive past the station again and then turn the corner. Apparently the vehicle had been circling the block while they were inside.

“Go and get Kerry,” Callum said. “Hurry.”

Hazel turned and walked quickly back to the door. When inside, she saw Callum had drawn his gun and was watching the street.

“Is something wrong?”

Hazel heard Detective Wilder and faced her. “The white car that followed us here is still out there. He’s going around the block.” Just then Hazel spotted the car in front of the station on the street, driving slowly. Callum took cover behind his truck.

Kerry hollered for two other officers and ran out the front door.

“Mommy?” Evie said sleepily.

“It’s okay, honey. Go back to sleep.” Hazel hoped it would be all right.

Evie rested her head on Hazel’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Hazel didn’t have time to savor the sight.

Callum opened the station door as Hazel saw Kerry racing away in her car, two other officers following.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Callum said. “Kerry’s on his tail.”

She carried Evie out the door.

Callum stayed close to her side with his pistol. At his truck, he opened the back door and guarded them while Hazel put Evie in the car seat he had thoughtfully put in there. Then he opened the passenger door and guarded Hazel again while she got in. Going around to the other side, he got behind the wheel and drove quickly out of the parking lot.

A few minutes later they arrived at the Dales Inn. Hazel knew it was upscale but she had never been this close before. Its grandeur towered before her, the double wooden doors with oval windows welcoming guests to promised luxury. A parking valet gave Callum a ticket.

“Welcome, Mr. Colton,” the valet said and then nodded to Hazel. “Ma’am.”

“Callum Colton?” a bellboy asked.

“Yes,” Callum answered.

“I’ll take care of your bags.”

“Thank you.”

All Hazel had to do was carry a sleeping Evie inside.

The richness of majestic white columns and dark polished stone floors beneath a high, ornately trimmed ceiling engulfed her. Numbly she walked to the reception desk with Callum.

“We’re checking in to a two-bedroom suite, please.”

Hazel thought about protesting again, but her anxiety over the driver of the white car stopped her. That and Detective Wilder’s unwavering praise of Callum’s good character.

He took the room keys, then guided Hazel with his hand on her lower back, something that was becoming a habit for him. Strangely, Hazel didn’t mind. She wasn’t accustomed to a man doting on her the way Callum did. She had always taken care of herself. He might be doing all of that as her bodyguard, but she still liked it. She felt pampered.

They rode the elevator to the top floor with the bellboy and their luggage. Her luggage. Hazel looked at the cart the bellboy had gotten and saw two additional bags. She looked up at Callum in question, Evie’s warm breaths touching her neck.

“I arranged for my things to be brought here.”

Who had he called? And when? He must have done so while he waited for her to pack. No doubt his family had all kinds of people who did such things for them. Hazel had a funny feeling about that. Ed had hidden his wealth from her, so he had never taken her to places like this, but his lies had hurt. She wouldn’t fall so easily for anyone again. Not that she was falling for Callum. He was extremely handsome, that’s all. What woman could be immune to that? It was like staring at a beautiful painting, unable to look away until she’d had her fill of the pleasure.

In the posh hallway, Callum stopped at a room door and unlocked it. Then he held the door for Hazel and the bellboy.

“Go ahead and put my bags in the room with one king,” Callum said to the bellboy.

“Yes, sir.” The bellboy walked down the hall and Hazel followed.

Going into the other bedroom, Hazel drew the covers back on the far queen bed and gently laid Evie on the sheets. She touched her daughter’s sleeping face as the bellboy brought in her bags.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay at the Dales Inn.” The young man left and Hazel shut the door before undressing Evie.

It was a bit of a challenge to get her daughter into pj’s but she finally succeeded without waking her. The poor kid was exhausted.

Hazel unpacked both of their bags, hanging some clothes and putting some in drawers. She put Evie’s toys on one of the chairs in front of the draperies and then spread Evie’s favorite soft blanket over her. Leaning down, she kissed her daughter’s forehead.

Going out to the main room, she saw Callum on his phone, standing between a four-seater dining table and a sectional that faced a gas fireplace with a TV over it. He talked to someone as he faced the corner windows, Mustang Valley town lights sparkling outside.

There were some things on the table, a computer and other equipment. As she neared, she saw three GPS tracking devices, several USB drives. Some devices looked high tech, others had tiny screens, and she saw bulletproof vests, one small enough to fit Evie. Now she knew why he had two bags.

“All right. Keep me informed,” he said and then disconnected.

Hazel went to the four bar stools at a marble-topped kitchen island with a sink in the middle. Three pretty orange-gold pendants hung from the ceiling. A four-burner gas stove with a microwave above was on the other side, and there were cabinets on both sides. It even had a pantry.

She put her hands on the back of one of the chairs. “This is very nice. I’m more of a two-or three-star hotel kind of girl.” Not a fiver.

He chuckled. “We need the space and you need a kitchen. Think of it as a home away from home.”

Hazel had told him she was a chef on the way to the Dales Inn but not much else. Leaving the chair, she went around the island and began going through the cabinets. The kitchen was fully stocked with all the equipment she would need. “The only things missing are food and spices.”

“Make a list and I’ll have that delivered in the morning.”

With the snap of a finger he’d do that? “Then I’ll pay you.”

“No, you won’t. I want you to relax and have as much semblance of your normal routine as possible. Don’t worry about anything other than doing your job and taking care of Evie. I’ll do the rest.”

Finished checking out the kitchen, seeing it had pretty much everything, she walked to the impressive windows. Mustang Valley looked bigger than she had always thought of it from here.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

She heard him walk up behind her and stop beside her. “I was there when the man tried to run you over.”

He had already indicated as much, but she wanted to know why he was here with her. Why had he offered his services, free of charge?

“Why this?” She turned as she swept her arm out into the room, facing him. “Why is it so important for you to help us?”

She met his incredibly blue eyes while he considered his reply.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “When I first saw you, I had no intention of going out to meet you, but then I saw that car with the driver and instincts kicked in. This is what I do, Hazel.”

That sounded truthful enough. Why, then, did she have this feeling that it was more personal than that?

“Kerry called. She lost the white car,” Callum said, pulling her thoughts elsewhere. “She said the driver must know the town well. Otherwise he might not have gotten away as easily as he did.”

Hazel bit her lower lip in consternation. The killer had gotten away. Where was he now? Lurking outside? Did he already know they were here? Picturing Evie’s sweet sleeping face, she released her lip with a long sigh. If the killer knew the town well, he’d know the Dales Inn was the only hotel in Mustang Valley.

Feeling as though someone could see them through the windows, she went to stand by the dining table.

Callum went to the other side. “I sleep light, so don’t worry. And if you have any lingering doubt as to why I’m doing this, now you shouldn’t. I couldn’t leave a dog in danger like this.”

She believed that his work was second nature to him, but she still thought there was more to him than that, more that drew him to her and Evie, maybe even something he hadn’t acknowledged himself. Yet.

Looking down at all the items on the table, she pointed to the vests. “I take it we’re going to be wearing those?”

“Whenever we leave the inn. They’re knife-and bulletproof and made with poly-cotton netting that breathes to keep you cool or warm, depending on the weather. You can wear them underneath your clothes. They’re comfortable.”

Very high tech. And she would feel so much better knowing Evie would be protected as best as she could.

“What will you do with the USB drives?” she asked.

“Some are listening devices, others are cameras. One is for deleted file recovery.” He gestured to the USB devices. “We’ll put a GPS in your car, purse and Evie’s backpack. They all have extended battery life.”

Hazel couldn’t bear to think she or Evie might be abducted, but Callum would know where they were if it happened. He wasn’t taking any chances. She couldn’t imagine they would need to recover any deleted files in order to find the killer. Maybe that was another precautionary measure Callum had taken.

“I’ve got some night vision goggles and extra guns and ammo in the bag. I’ll keep those in a safe place.”

Out of Evie’s curious hands. That was comforting. Hazel met his eyes, thinking she could never get tired of doing so. She could stare at them for an hour and float on a cloud of infatuation. How many other handsome men had she seen and not had such a strong reaction? She had been quite attracted to Ed, but she had never felt this way with him. Callum might be ruggedly gorgeous but Hazel didn’t think he’d be a good match for her.

What made a good match? She did not know him at all, at least, not very well. He physically attracted her. What would she do with that? What if she had no control over what was between them?

Why are you doing this?

Why is it so important for you to help us?

Those two questions that Hazel had asked kept repeating in his mind and he couldn’t shut off the voice. He was tired of hearing it. Mostly he was tired of wondering why and feeling somewhere deep inside that he already knew the answers.

He opened the drawer of the built-in desk next to the kitchen, looking for a notepad and pen. Hazel had gone to sit on the sectional. It was getting late but she needed to give him a list of kitchen necessaries so he could have everything she needed by morning.

He had been truthful when he had told her instinct had taken over. Instinct had made him walk across the street to check on the mysterious car. He hadn’t really thought much beyond that, but now here he was, guarding a woman and her child.

Finding a notepad and pen, he brought it to Hazel and sat beside her. “Here you go. Make your list.”

She tapped the pen lightly against her lower lip awhile before finally beginning to write down ingredients.

Callum studied her profile, sloping nose and full lips. Long lashes low over hazel-green eyes. He let his gaze travel lower, noticing a button on her white blouse had come loose and exposed more of her cleavage. She was a stunning woman.

He turned his attention to her growing list.

“Do you have regulars?”

“Yes. I’m a personal chef,” she answered without pausing in her writing.

Leaning over he started reading the list. “Are the ingredients all meat and potatoes?”

Smiling she slid a glance toward him. “No. Some are chicken and mashed potatoes.”

He chuckled. “I could do that job.”

“I also have clients who want things like shrimp and scallop scampi. Roasted chicken au jus. Seafood-stuffed salmon. Steak. Lobster. Vegetable dishes. Fruit.”

He would like to try a few of her concoctions. But since he barely knew her, he didn’t mention it.

“What made you decide to become a chef?” he asked.

She smiled softly. “My mother cooked all the time. I grew up with delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.”

“You never told me about your family. You know all about mine and I know nothing about yours.” That wasn’t fair. He felt safe asking her, not too personal.

“Not much to tell,” she said. “My parents are both from Pagosa Springs, Colorado. They knew each other in high school but didn’t get together until after college. My brother is a cop and lives in Phoenix with his wife’s family.”

“I’m sure there is more to tell than that.”

She smiled in that soft way again. “Are you looking for drama?”

“You did say every family has it.” He was starting to love this banter.

She laughed once. “Um...let’s see...well, there was the time when my brother skipped school to smoke pot with his friends. My parents flipped. They were afraid he would drop out of school or be kicked out and his whole future would be in ruins. But it turned out he just went through a phase. He rebelled for a year and then got his grades back up and went on to college.”

To become a cop. Her family drama paled in comparison to his. “What about you? Did you ever rebel?”

“No. I was never good at math or the sciences, but I managed a B average. Art was my forte. I oil painted, drew in lead and colored pencils. My paintings were often displayed in the school hall outside the art room. My parents worried I’d never make a comfortable income. They sat me down for a talk my senior year and said, ‘Hey, look, you might not be able to support yourself.’ Their way of saying they were convinced I’d be the clichéd starving artist.” She laughed. “I suppose I am still, in some ways.”

He liked that she smiled and laughed so much. He smiled and laughed, too, at least he thought he did.

“You were an artist and became a chef,” he said. “How did you go from one to the other?”

That made her think a moment, tipping her head up a bit, eyes lifting in search of an answer. He could see the flecks of green glowing.

“I think the talk with my parents influenced me,” she said. “I went to college for interior design, but one of my optional classes was culinary. That’s what changed everything. I loved the art of making plates look like colorful, abstract paintings. And then I fell in love with flavors and aromas. I dropped out of college after the first semester and went to culinary school.”

She must have a knack for it, since she was so young and already striving for success. “You’re self-employed. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“I only recently went out on my own. I did my externship at Flemming’s, a renowned restaurant here in Arizona.”

“I’ve heard of it. Where did you go to school that got you that kind of externship?” he asked.

“The Culinary Institute of America.”

He whistled. How had she been able to afford that? He didn’t know the exact tuition but did know it was among the best culinary arts schools in the country, if not the world.

“My parents saved for my college education. They gave me almost half and I took out student loans for the rest. That and the externship got me my first job at a place called Carolyn’s Kitchen. It was an upscale, home-style restaurant. I helped them spiff up their menu and some of the meals I created gave me the idea to go out on my own. Jasmine, the owner of the bakery, lets me cook in her kitchen when I have a big order or several all at once. I cook after the bakery closes at two.”

She didn’t appear to make a ton of money, living in the small apartment, but she had to be getting along just fine, making a decent income to support herself and Evie. Callum admired that. He admired ambition in anyone. Working hard was rewarding. It didn’t matter if the hard work made a person wealthy. If Callum hadn’t been born a Colton, he wouldn’t be wealthy. He made a good income, more than an average bodyguard, but nothing approaching what his father made.

“What’s your favorite food?” Hazel asked, handing him the notepad.

Taking it, his fingers brushed hers. She gave him the pen as their eyes met.

“Seafood. Clams. Scallops. That scallop recipe sounded really good.”

“Clams. I could make you an outstanding clam dinner. We’d have to make something else for Evie. She doesn’t like seafood.”

“Does any kid?”

She took the pen and paper back and jotted down some more ingredients. Then she handed the list back to him. He put it on the coffee table.

“What are you going to make me?”

“Linguine with white clam sauce.”

“Mmm.” He couldn’t wait for that. Spending time with her in the kitchen, too. Doing anything with her. He liked being with her. “How much time do you need to cook tomorrow?”

“Five or six hours.”

Taking out his phone, he took a picture of the list then texted it to one of his agency’s best personal staff and asked to have everything by nine in the morning. Patsy Cornwall responded a few seconds later. She was a night owl. Callum could always depend on her.

“Just like that, we’ll get all the ingredients?” Hazel sounded amazed.

“Just like that. Patsy is paid very well for her services.”

“Is she some kind of concierge?”

“She’s a personal assistant. She works from home and runs errands for us when we need it. We all keep her pretty busy.”

“Nice. Lucky me.” Hazel gave him the pleasure of one of her soft smiles and the color of her eyes spellbound him.

She moved her head a fraction closer, as though she couldn’t help it, stopping short and looking into his eyes.

Callum lifted his hand and placed his palm against her cheek, then, nearly involuntarily, pressed his mouth to hers. She immediately responded, her warm lips melding with his and sparking much more carnal urges. The intensity of sensations just a kiss caused in him made him withdraw.

She opened her eyes and he found himself transfixed again. He had only known her for about ten hours. With all that had happened, he felt he had known her a lot longer.

“I should get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day,” she said.

“Right. Yes.” He stood with her, seeing her smooth her hair and press her lips together as though she could still feel him kissing her.

He walked behind her toward their bedrooms, she veering to the right and he to the left. When she reached her door, she slowed and looked at him. A moment of electrified attraction passed between them before she disappeared from view.

Callum entered his room and closed the door. While he undressed and got into bed, he imagined what it might be like to be naked with Hazel. On his back, he folded his arm under his head and stared at the dark ceiling, the passionate urges subsiding as the reality of starting something romantic with her set in. Hazel, single mother of Evie, an adorable little girl who reminded him of what his own daughter might have been.

Daughter. He had never formed that word since his girlfriend died. And now an intense sense of dread came over him. Dread and a horrible, defenseless feeling that swirled in his stomach.

Okay. He had gotten himself into this mess. He would treat it like any other job. Watch out for Hazel and Evie. Get them through what they had witnessed. Catch the bad guy. Move on to the next client. No more kissing Hazel.