Terri Reed - The Doctor's Defender

He set his hands on her shoulders. She sucked in a quick breath. Twin points of heat seared her flesh from where he gripped her with strong hands. With gentle pressure, he moved her aside so he could step into the hall.

A fresh wave of embarrassment flushed through her. She’d been blocking his path out of her room. He must think her a complete airhead. Or worse, that she didn’t want him to leave her alone.

Well, okay, maybe a part of her didn’t want him to go too far away. For safety reasons. Just in case. And if she kept telling herself that, maybe it would be true.

“Good night, Brenda. Sleep well,” Kyle said with a two-fingered salute.

She nodded like a bobblehead doll and watched him saunter down the stairs and disappear into the dark.

She sagged against the door frame. She had to get a grip. She would not be interested in her bodyguard. No matter how attractive he was. He was a danger junkie. Only here to protect her. Period. She wasn’t looking for a romance, a relationship or anything in between. With him or any man.

She’d been down that rocky path before and found herself at a dead end. She was not going there again.

As she slipped into her room and closed the door, she only wished her heart would stop racing every time he was near. It was only a biological response to an attractive man, but it sure felt like something more. Something she had no intention of pursuing.

* * *

After one more perimeter check, Kyle was satisfied the grounds of the Storm house were as secure as they could be with only the eight-foot-high laurel hedges as a barrier to the outside world. He dialed Trent offices. He stood in the shadowed driveway, listening to the ring of the cell phone pressed to his left ear, while keeping his gaze on the street. A few lights dotted houses down the block. Several houses over a parked car sat at the curb.

“Trent Associates, Simone speaking. How can we help?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Kyle said by way of greeting. The former Detroit homicide detective had joined Trent Associates around the same time he had. “How’s it going?”

“All’s quiet here,” she replied. “Everyone’s out in the field except me and James. How’s your assignment?”

“Interesting.” He quickly filled her in on Brenda and the case. “I need a couple of things checked out. Can you help?”

“Of course, anything for my favorite frogman.”

“Ah, you’re gonna make me blush,” he quipped. From the day they’d met they’d had a good-natured banter going. Simone was all sleek polish. While he was...well, himself. They couldn’t be more opposite. Brenda, in fact, reminded Kyle a little of Simone. The same quick wit and standoffish manner.

“First up a Dr. Sam Johnson, plastic surgeon at Heritage Hospital. Has a thing for Brenda and doesn’t seem to understand no. He’s probably not our perp, but maybe someone close to him wants Brenda out of the picture. Dig up whatever you can.”

“Got it. Next?”

“Her parents. I need everything you can find on them.”

“Wait, you want me to do a deep dig on her family? You think they’re behind the attempt on your

protectee’s life?”

“No, I don’t,” he said. “But there’s something off. I’ve got a gut feeling that there’s more going on than they are saying. Mrs. Storm was quick to hide some medication when we arrived unexpectedly. Brenda says they’ve been acting strange lately. According to Brenda, her dad’s lost a lot of weight and was feverish tonight.”

“All right. I’ll do some digging, though you know with HIPPA I won’t get far on the medical,” Simone said. “Anything else?”

Kyle hesitated. Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t put a bead on what was bothering him. “I’m good for now. But I’ll call if I have anything else.”

“Sounds good. Hey, Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe. I’m praying for you.”

He smiled, glad to know someone was putting in a good word with the man upstairs. Kyle prayed often, but sometimes God felt so very distant. Kyle had come to know the Lord at the Special Warfare Center in Coronado, California. There were days when his faith was the only thing that sustained him through the vigorous training and later combat. “You’re concerned about me? How sweet.”

He heard her exasperated sigh. “As I am for every member of the team.”

Kyle sobered. “I know. And I’m grateful.”

“Be careful.”

She’d shared her story with him after a harrowing assignment had left another team member in the hospital with a bullet wound. She’d lost someone close to her, someone she felt responsible for. Simone took everyone’s welfare very seriously. He appreciated that about her. “I will. You, too.”

“Thanks.”

Kyle hung up and stared at the house shrouded in darkness, his hinky alarm jangling. Just what were the Storms hiding? And was their secret the reason Brenda was in danger?

The house was quiet when he came back inside. Only the faint hum of the refrigerator and the slight creaking of the floorboards settling for the night kept the place from being completely silent. Kyle swept the downstairs, making sure all windows and doors were locked tight and the security alarm was set. He headed to the guest room on the main floor near the kitchen.

The room was done in muted tones of green and brown. More masculine than not, yet it wouldn’t necessarily be considered a man’s domain, not with the bits of lace on the cherry dresser, the painting of a field of flowers and a lazy creek on the wall and the ruffles on the accent pillows he’d tossed onto the wingback chair in the corner. Still, as digs went, this was cushy and more than adequate to provide a good night’s sleep.

He stretched out on the queen-size bed with every intention of relaxing. But his mind wouldn’t shut off. He kept reliving the moment upstairs when Brenda had sighed. Such a small sound, hardly worth noting. Except she’d been staring at him with such yearning on her pretty face, his ego had ripped the curl. He’d wanted to explore what that sigh meant. He hadn’t. And told himself he couldn’t. That wouldn’t be professional.

Giving up on sleep, he rose and dug through his “to-go” bag, double-checking his weapon and ammo. His hand brushed over the photograph he always kept with him. He didn’t need to see the image to recall the picture of him, his twin sister, Kaitlin, and his parents. Before his mother had taken ill. Before his world came crashing down in a fiery flame of heartache. He zipped the bag closed.

A high-pitched noise pierced the quiet of the night.

His heart jolted.

The house alarm had been tripped!

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