Janelle Denison: Wild for Him

Leaning back in his chair. Nathan's expression took on a firm and determined look. "My daughter has become very independent recently, but I can promise you she'll cooperate with this sudden change of plans. Having a private bodyguard, especially during election time, isn't something new for her. She might be a bit surprised at the live-in arrangements, but she'll understand that it's absolutely necessary and non-negotiable."

Ben nodded in agreement. Until they discovered who the culprit was that had sent the intimidating letter, he'd be glued to Christine's side.

Ben had to admit that the job of protecting Christine's body certainly wouldn't be a hardship, not when she had the kind of shapely curves that made him wonder, and imagine, what she'd look like naked, with nothing but moonlight painting her supple, creamy-looking skin. Then there was all that silky blond hair the color of rich honey, those bright blue eyes that were always so full of life and carefree laughter when she was around him, and that sweet mouth of hers that could smile so guilessly, yet also managed to fuel some hot, erotic fantasies of how those soft, sensual lips might feel sliding against his skin.

The front door slammed shut, the sound jarring Ben out of his inappropriate and too arousing thoughts. His job was to protect Christine Delacroix, not seduce her, no matter how much she'd made her interest in him clear. And she had, each and every time they'd run into one another over the past months of Ben working for her father.

But no matter how much she flirted and teased, or how much the mutual attraction simmering between them tempted him, Ben was a professional. He could daydream and fantasize about Christine all he wanted, but he'd never touch.

Not only was she about to become a client-and he didn't mix business with pleasure-but she was so out of his league, in so many ways. Socially and financially she was at the top of the list. The only reason he was even a part of her affluent world was as a hired security agent. Other than that, there was nothing about her privileged lifestyle he could even begin to relate to.

"Speaking of the angel, here she is now," Nathan said fondly.

The sound of heels clicking on the marble entryway sounded seconds before Christine appeared in the dining room, dressed in a beige V-neck top, slim black jeans, and a pair of expensive-looking designer shoes that enhanced the length of her slender legs. Her dossier pegged her at five foot five, a good eight inches shorter than himself, but the confident way she carried herself, combined with those killer heels she always wore, made her appear much taller than she actually was. And they made her legs and her ass-his two favorite attributes on a woman-look sexier than hell.

But despite those four-inch heels strapped to her feet, there was a distinct and lively spring in her step that caused her loose hair to swirl around her shoulders. The brisk energy in her walk also made her small, firm breasts bounce with just enough motion to draw his gaze for a brief, appreciative moment before lifting back up to her lovely face once again.

He silently agreed with Nathan. Christine did look like an angel, but Ben's thoughts were anything but saintly or pure when it came to her.

As she entered the room, her gaze locked on her father first, since he was seated at the head of the table, and she headed toward Nathan with a sweet, genuinely-happy-to-see-you grin curving her lips.

"Hello. Daddy." Reaching his side, she leaned down and placed a kiss on his smooth-shaven cheek.

The warm, affectionate smile Nathan gave his daughter in return made him appear ten years younger than his true age. "Hi, sweetheart."

Ben pushed back his chair and stood up to greet Christine, finally bringing her attention to the fact that he was in the room, too. She glanced at him in startled surprise.

"You remember security agent Ben Cabrera, don't you?" Nathan asked his daughter.

Once her initial shock at seeing him there on a Sunday afternoon ebbed, she flashed him one of her effusive grins. "Of course I do. Hello, Ben."

He nodded politely in return. "Christine."

She rolled her eyes at all his formality, then waved a hand toward his chair, setting off a light, tinkling sound from the gold bangle bracelets circling her wrist. "Please, sit down. You don't need to stand when I enter the room. I'm hardly the Queen of England,'" she said, laughter in her voice. "And how many times have I told you to call me Christy?"

He settled back into his seat, doing his best to remain unaffected by that mischievous twinkle in her eyes that made her look too damned irresistible. "A few." He knew that her friends called her by the informal nickname, but for Ben, calling her Christy was too personal and intimate. Especially since he was about to become her private body guard for the next three weeks.

"Maybe someday you will." Her sexy wink and the playful lilt to her voice indicated that she wasn't done trying to sway him-no big shock there. Undoubtedly, she was used to getting her way. She also took great delight in provoking him, the minx.

She slid into the chair next to Nathan and across from where Ben sat, then glanced at her father. "Where's Mother? It's nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. Is she not joining us for lunch today?"

"She's still in her room, as far as I know." Nathan sighed, the sound barely concealing the frustration creeping into his tone. "According to Maggie, she woke up with a headache and claimed she wasn't feeling well this morning. Things haven't changed much since you moved out."

Ben shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Though he was used to people discussing their private lives in front of him, since he was supposed to be the invisible bodyguard, this intimate table discussion was more than he wanted, or needed, to know about this family's conflicts that centered around Audrey. Ben had no desire to get involved, and he figured if he was lucky, he wouldn't even have to see the woman for the next three weeks.

"I'm sorry." Christine went on as she shook her head, apparently used to her mother's personal issues, too. "I'll be sure to stop by her room to say hello before I leave."

Nathan nodded. "I'm sure she'd like that."

Christine tipped her head toward her father. The diamond hoop earrings in her lobes caught the light from the overhead chandelier and sparkled brilliantly. "You don't have to fib on my account. Daddy. She hasn't even come close to forgiving me for calling off the wedding and embarrassing her in front of her high-society friends. Never mind my humiliation. She tolerates me right now because I'm her daughter and she has no choice."

Nathan grimaced, but didn't refute her claim. "Fair enough."

An elderly woman with graying brown hair and kind hazel eyes entered the dining room from an adjoining doorway, a glass pitcher in her hand. Judging by the apron tied around her small waist, and the way she began pouring iced tea into their crystal glasses, Ben guessed that she was part of the household help.

"Hi, Maggie," Christine said in cheerful greeting. "How are you doing?"

The other woman beamed at her as she finished filling Ben's glass with tea, then moved on to Nathan's. "Just wonderful, Sweet Pea. When your father mentioned that you were going to be here for lunch today, I decided to make one of your favorite meals."

Christine thought for a quick moment, that infectious gleam sparking to life in her eyes again. "You made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"

Maggie laughed. "You always did love those as a little girl, didn't you?"

She gave Maggie an impish grin. "Still do, actually."

Amusement softened Maggie's features. "I sure do miss having you here at the house every day," she said, an unmistakable hint of melancholy in her voice. "As for lunch, I made wild mushroom ravioli with sweet vermouth and cream sauce. And for dessert, bread pudding with my special apricot sauce."