The Heiress & the Bodyguard Read online

  And so it came down to this: realistically, she knew there was very little chance of her falling head over heels in love. She truly believed it was an impossibility, given her own fear of caring too deeply for anyone or anything. Beau was a good man who knew her well and expected very little. Harris obviously thought the match was made in heaven. If he thought it was the best thing for her, it probably was. Heaven knew Harris deserved a life of his own. He would never concentrate on his own happiness until Julie’s welfare was secured.

  She continued driving for well over an hour. She didn’t care where she was going, she only knew she had to be someplace else. Eventually she lost the lights of the city, finding herself on a narrow two-lane road crowded on both sides with thick cypress. It was too dark to see anything beyond the shadows of foliage surrounding her. The air grew heavy and wet, as if she were heading into a swamp. She’d never been in an actual swamp before, but the word alligator kept popping into her mind. She was terrified of animals whose teeth were larger than her own. Her palms on the steering wheel became wet.

  Julie wasn’t accustomed to checking the gas gauge in her car. In fact, all the maintenance on the Porsche was done by Harris’s “people,” invisible and ever-diligent. Usually Harris insisted she used his car and driver if she needed to go out. When she did drive her own car, it was always ready, bright and shiny and filled with gas. Naturally she knew such things as oil and fuel were necessary for a car to run, but the particulars of it all had never been a concern.

  Until the Porsche sputtered, coughed and died. The gas gauge read empty.

  She managed to pull over to the side of the road before the car came to a complete stop. Greenery scratched eerily against the passenger window, sounding like someone trying to get in. She panicked, locking the doors and putting on her seat belt for the first time, as if this would save her from her predicament. Other words scuttled through her mind besides alligator: snakes, spiders, green slimy things. Beyond the windshield, the circles of the headlights barely illuminated ten feet of the utter void surrounding her. In her conscious mind she knew it wasn’t a good idea to leave the lights on when the engine wasn’t running. She also knew there was no way in heaven or hell she was going to sit in utter darkness. She turned on the interior light and tried to find the emergency flasher lights, but nothing she punched, pulled or turned did a thing, beyond turning the windshield wipers on. She asked herself what a true heroine would do in this situation. She answered herself: she probably would have had the sense to put gas in the car in the first place. Still, she could simply call Harris on the cell phone…if she’d had the foresight to bring the phone with her. Her beautifully manicured nails tapped a frantic rhythm on the steering wheel. What to do, what to do…?

  From out of nowhere, a car pulled up beside her and stopped. The driver sat in shadows, but she had the impression of a portly build and a bushy beard. He motioned for her to roll down her window. Julie shook her head frantically. He held up two hands as if saying, How do you expect me to help you, then?

  They’ll find my body dumped by the roadside, she thought despairingly. Not right away, but in a few days when the humidity and heat and alligators have taken their toll. She would look utterly terrible for the funeral. Poor Harris would think it was all his fault for allowing her to live in the guesthouse and be guilt-ridden the rest of his life. And he would never have an answer to the million-dollar question: What on earth was Julie thinking, driving through that sort of neighborhood?

  Suddenly a hand tapping on her window interrupted her morbid musings. She jumped as high as her seat belt would allow her, staring into dark eyes that looked glazed and unfocused. He looked about forty years old, a very large man with more hair on his arms and face than his head. He wore a thin white undershirt stained on the front in several places.

  Her panic doubled and redoubled in the space of five seconds. She might not have much experience with men, but she knew this person walking around in his underwear was not the answer to her prayers.

  “Do you need help?” he shouted.

  Julie shook her head frantically.

  “Can I give you a ride?”

  Julie shook her head harder, her brown eyes enormous.

  At this point he dropped his smile and tried to open the driver’s-side door. If Julie had been able to breathe, she would have screamed. Unfortunately, the only sound she could make was short and faint, like a baby hiccup. For whatever reason, she pressed her hand on the horn and kept it there.

  It took a moment before she realized another car had pulled up directly behind her. She wondered what the possibilities were of two men with extremely bad intentions happening upon her in this tropical wilderness. Was there a convention of highway muggers somewhere near here? Did these sort of people lie waiting in the dark for idiots like herself to run out of gas?

  At that point, everything happened quickly, like a nightmare in fast-forward. The driver of the second car got out, leaving his engine running and the lights on. He said something to white-undershirt person, but Julie still had her hand on the horn so she couldn’t hear. There was the briefest scuffle outside her window; she saw the whirl of a flowered shirt and a fist flying. Almost immediately the fellow who’d been trying to get inside her car dropped out of sight.

  Two arms leaned against her door. Her rescuer—at least she hoped he was her rescuer—leaned down to look inside. He had longish dark hair that covered his ears, moving softly around his face with the night wind. She couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, but saw them sparkle, as if he were greatly amused.

  “Stop that,” he mouthed, pointing at her hand on the horn, then at his own ears.

  For whatever reason, Julie did as she was told. She continued to stare at him like a helpless deer caught in the headlights.

  “Thank you,” he said when the noise suddenly stopped. He grinned at her, showing very white teeth against a very tan face. For a simple smile, it was amazingly powerful, glinting in his eyes, denting his cheeks and lending an aura of boyish charm to very masculine features. Julie was reassured enough to roll down her window one-half inch.

  “Looks like you’ve got yourself in a sticky situation,” he said.

  Julie cocked her head, trying to see where the worrisome bearded person had gone to. “Did you kill him?” she asked, her voice trembling with nerves.

  He looked perplexed. “Why on earth would I kill him? You’re a complete stranger. Don’t take offense, but I really don’t want to go to jail for someone I don’t even know.”

  “Did you beat him unconscious?” she persisted, warming to her subject.

  He rolled his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little dramatic? He told me if I knew what was good for me, I’d keep driving. I told him I’d never done what was good for me and hit him once. Now he’s taking a nap here on the road. He’ll be fine.” He paused, added, “Except for the black eye he’ll have. So what are you doing out here in the wee hours of the morning? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  The window went down another inch. “I’m sitting here because my car broke.”

  “What do you mean, it broke?”

  “It’s out of gas.”

  He considered this for a moment, and the grin came back. “Yeah, I guess that would break it all right. So how can I help?”

  “Well…” Julie considered her options, starting up the tapping on the steering wheel again. “Do you happen to know where I am?”

  He bit his lip, trying not to laugh out loud. “You’re a couple of hours north of the coast.” He paused. “The Florida coast.”

  “I know I’m in Florida,” Julie replied indignantly. “I just wondered if there was a town nearby, somewhere I could get some gas.”

  “I’m a tourist, so I’m afraid I don’t know. I’m exploring myself. I’d be happy to give you a lift to a gas station, if you’d like.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea,” she said nervously. “I should be able to handle this myself.�
�� Still, there was such an enormous difference between should and could.

  “Whatever,” he shrugged. “This isn’t exactly a freeway, so you may be here for a while. Keep your doors locked, especially when what’s-his-name here wakes up. He won’t be a happy camper. See ya.”

  “Hold it!” Julie’s yelp stopped him from walking away. She rolled her window down another two inches. “Maybe I will take you up on your offer, if I won’t be putting you out.”

  “Fine by me.” He lifted his hand, sticking four fingers through the top of the window. “I’m Billy.”

  “Julie,” she said, taking his lead and foregoing last names. Hesitantly she took the tips of his fingers in her hand and shook them politely. “How do you do?”

  This time Billy laughed, the sound rich and deep, lingering in the heavy air. “How do you do? Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Grace Kelly? Same voice, too. Very cultured.”

  “Is that good?”

  “If you like Grace Kelly. I loved her myself.” He stepped back, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t want to scare you, but you’ll need to get out of your car if this is going to work.”

  Julie still hesitated. “Maybe I should sit here and wait for you to bring some gas back.”

  Billy sighed, digging his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He flipped it open, allowing her to see the flash of his old police badge. As a retired cop, this was highly illegal. That fact didn’t stop Billy from doing it now and again. “You couldn’t be safer, ma’am. I’m an officer of the law, sworn to protect and serve the citizens of California when I’m not on vacation. I wouldn’t do anything mean to the citizens of Florida, either. Could we hurry this up? The mosquitoes are eating me alive.”

  Julie realized this was the first time she had met an actual public policeman. The well-dressed private security people Harris hired were nice, but hardly battle-scarred veterans of the streets. Immediately her mind took off on a fantasy flight, imagining the dire and dangerous situations he must face in his work. How thrilling. “Do you shoot people?”

  He assumed a terribly serious expression. “Only very bad people who shoot at me first.”

  “Where do you keep your gun?”

  Billy almost lost it at that point. He stared down at the toes of his runners for a good fifteen seconds before he could talk. “I’m on vacation,” he finally managed. “Besides, the shoulder holster would look terrible with this shirt. Any more questions?”

  “Not at the moment,” Julie said graciously, turning off the interior light and pushing the button to unlock the car doors. “I do appreciate your help.”

  “Hold it a minute,” Billy told her. If she got out now, she would step on the beer belly of her unconscious, not-so-good Samaritan. He took him by the arms and pulled him away from the Porsche. “Okay, princess. Your carriage awaits.”

  Princess, Julie thought, smiling to herself. This was getting better and better. She couldn’t have come up with a more perfect hero if she’d tried. He was an authority figure, an officer of the law. He had gone into battle for her. He was charming. He was absolutely gorgeous. Her nervous tension was gradually being replaced by unexpected excitement.

  She got out of the car, sparing a quick look at the fellow in the undershirt. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully. “Are you going to report this?” she asked Billy.

  “As soon as I can,” he replied, thinking of poor Harris Roper. While following Julie, he’d tried using the cell phone, only to realize the battery was out of juice. He’d have to do this the old-fashioned way and use a pay phone as soon as he could. “It’s part of the job, princess.”

  Two

  Up close and personal, little Julie Roper packed a wallop. From the top of her designer gown to the toes of her absurd sneakers, she was clearly one-of-a kind.

  She wasn’t cool, self-centered or spoiled, the way Billy had imagined a heiress would be. She was nervous, but Billy sensed the nervousness was something she was enjoying. She talked like someone had put a quarter in her, asking him questions at the speed of light.

  Do you like your job?

  Do you enjoy danger?

  Have you ever been shot?

  What do you mean, a few times?

  Twisting sideways in her seat, blond hair flying every which way from the open window, she demanded every detail. Billy shook his head, assuming a deeply troubled expression. “I can’t really talk about it. It brings back such horrible memories.” Which, of course, was another bit of fiction. In reality he was rather proud of his war wounds, keeping all three bullets surgeons had dug out of him in a peanut-butter jar in his closet. Still, he was beginning to sense Julie Roper would be impossible to send home like a good little girl if she enjoyed her adventure any more than she seemed to be doing already.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Julie said earnestly. “Truly, I didn’t mean to open any old wounds—” She stopped, realizing what she’d said. “Gracious. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Oh, dear.”

  “No problem,” Billy muttered. It wasn’t often he found himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, but Julie Roper did just that. She was a bundle of brown-eyed enthusiasm, using her hands as she talked, her animated face illuminated in the yellow light from the dashboard. There was no artifice about her, nothing pretentious. This was the woman-child he had seen skipping in the surf. This was the true Julie Roper. Part child, part woman and apparently starving for a taste of life with all its adventures and dangers.

  In all his experience, he’d never come across a woman quite like her. He began to worry.

  “Is there someone at home you should be calling?” he asked abruptly. “Someone who might be terribly worried about you? Someone you need to get home to?”

  Julie shook her head, absently tucking her hair behind her ears. “Not really. I left him a note just in case. I said I needed to get away for a couple of hours, and not to worry.”

  “Husband?” Billy asked, since it was the logical response.

  “No. My brother Harris. It’s just the two of us.”

  “Then he’ll probably be going crazy when he realizes you’re gone,” Billy said, trying to implant a seed of guilt. “I don’t want to pry, but…when exactly did you leave home?”

  Julie shrugged. “I don’t know. Two, three hours ago.”

  “And within that time, you’ve run out of gas, been accosted by a drunk, and been forced to accept a ride from a total stranger. Kind of a bad track record, don’t you think?”

  “I accepted a ride from you,” she pointed out defensively, “because you are a policeman.”

  “Whatever,” Billy replied, shoving a frustrated hand through his long black hair. “My point is, if all this can happen to you in three or four hours, what could happen to you in a few days? This is just a guess, but…you don’t run off by yourself very often, right?”

  “I could do it every week, for all you know.”

  “If you did it every week, you would remember to check the gas gauge in your car. You would also know where you are, not to mention where you are going.”

  Julie considered this for a moment, her lips pinched tight. “I don’t care for the way you put that, but you’re right. This was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, if you know what I mean. Still, it’s turning out better than I hoped.”

  Billy slanted her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding?”

  “Well, I met you,” she said, her eyes shining like copper pennies and a high flush of color on her cheekbones. “You are by far the most interesting person I have ever met in my life.”

  Billy could barely stop himself from groaning out loud. “You must not get out much, then. Which, by the way, is probably going to be the reason your brother is going to worry about you. Are the two of you close?”

  “Yes,” Julie said, “and no. We love each other, but neither one of us is exactly…comfortable…with our lives right now. Harris has been the father figure for a long time, and it’
s wearing on him. I just do as I’m told so the poor man doesn’t worry any more than necessary.”

  “You do as you’re told? Well, that explains everything. Your brother must have told you to drive around Florida in the middle of the night.”

  “Very funny. It’s not a crime to take a little ride.”

  “I doubt he’ll see it that way.”

  “How could you possibly know that? You don’t know the situation, you’ve just met me and you don’t know Harris at all. How could you possibly have any opinion on this?”

  Billy found himself grinding his teeth. The little lady was not cooperating. He wasn’t used to women who didn’t cooperate with him, and the experience was a little frustrating. “I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. I just know when someone is in over their head, that’s all. You need to go home and rethink this thing.”

  “My head,” Julie retorted, “is well above the water-line, so don’t worry. For heaven’s sake, you’re as bad as Harris.”

  I’m nothing like your brother, Billy wanted to throw back. I know him, and I know you far better than you think. Instead he contented himself with, “I’m a man, and I know how men protect the people they love. I’ve had a little more experience with life than you have.” Now there was the understatement of the year.

  “That’s exactly why I’m so glad we met,” Julie exclaimed, putting her hand on his arm. “You came along at such an opportune moment. I was feeling a little down tonight, because my birthday is coming and I’m going to…well, that’s neither here nor there. At any rate, you actually fought someone on my behalf. I’ll never forget this. Every now and then it’s kind of a relief to just…just fly by the seat of your skirt.”

  “Pants,” Billy snapped, irritated by the way his body was reacting to her innocent touch. “Fly by the seat of your pants. And don’t romanticize this thing. I didn’t fight with anyone on your behalf, I just pushed a drunk over sideways with one hand. I should have let him have a few more minutes with you. Then maybe you’d want to go home where you belong.”