Beverly Barton - Murdock's Last Stand

“And I suppose since she’ll have cash on her, Ms. Price will be under my protection from the moment she arrives tomorrow. Which means Lanny’s daughter will be staying here with me until our flight for Peru.”

“Yeah. And you better roll out the red carpet while she’s here. Catherine Price is the type of woman who expects first-class treatment. She’s a thoroughbred. A Southern lady, through and through.”

“Just like her mother.” Murdock remembered how Lanny had gone on and on about his Mae Beth. She’s too good for me, he’d said. Don’t know what a lady like her ever saw in an ole Tennessee hillbilly like me. But damn if she didn’t love me as much as I loved her.

“You knew Lanny’s ex-wife?” Burdett asked.

“I met her once. After I came back from Zaraza. I went to see her, to tell her about Lanny’s last day. And about how much he still cared about her and their child. She didn’t shed a tear, but I could tell she was hurting bad. My guess is that she still cared about him, too. Maybe when Lanny comes back, the two of them can—”

“Mrs. McCroskey died nine years ago.”

“Then Catherine is all Lanny has left.” Murdock sighed. With a look of resolve he said, “You can be damned sure I’ll take good care of her.”

Catherine scanned the airport crowd, searching for Murdock. Although she knew the agent who’d accompanied her would know Murdock on sight, she wondered if she could pick him out from all the other men. A former mercenary. A man like her father, to whom killing was second nature. Surely, that kind of life would show on his face.

Placing his hand under her elbow, the young agent urged her forward. “There he is,” Agent Hendricks said.

“Where?” Catherine asked.

“Straight ahead, on the left.”

A dozen men waited for disembarking passengers. After surveying several, her gaze halted on one man. She instinctively recognized Aloysius Murdock. A knot of apprehension formed in the pit of her stomach. And a purely feminine unease settled deep within her. He was everything she had expected. And everything she had feared. Big. Burly. Indeed, a mountain of a man, with enormous shoulders and huge arms. He stood at least six foot six, towering over the others. And there was a world-weary look in his hazel brown eyes as their gazes locked. A shudder rippled through her at his intense scrutiny. And she realized in that one instant that the man who was going to be her bodyguard on a trip into hell had recognized her just as she had him—instinctively.

He would have known her anywhere. Could have picked her from a lineup of a hundred women. She had class written all over her. Catherine Price might as well have had twenty-two Karat Gold stamped on her forehead. She was the genuine article. He had known enough women in his time to recognize a real lady when he saw one. He remembered Lanny saying his little girl was beautiful, just like her mama, but he hadn’t paid much attention to a father’s praise of his only child. Murdock had no idea what she’d looked like as a kid, but Lanny’s little girl had grown up to be one fine-looking woman.

Her gaze met his and locked instantly. An odd sensation hit Murdock in the gut, as if a hard fist had knocked the air out of him. Her blue eyes, so much like her father’s, held him spellbound for a split second. She tilted her head, and he noted an air of snobbery in her expression, as if she’d just encountered something unpleasant and couldn’t quite figure out the mannerly way to react. With mixed emotions bombarding him, he shook off the crazy feelings swirling around inside him and marched forward to meet Lanny’s daughter.

Agent Hendricks, carrying a briefcase manacled to his wrist, followed Catherine’s quick steps as she headed straight toward Murdock. He realized that, without introductions, she knew exactly who he was. She’d recognized him instantly, as he had her.

When she drew nearer, he noticed how tall she was, a good six feet in her sensible two-inch navy heels. And although she was trim in her simple navy suit, her hips and breasts were rounded nicely, accentuating her tiny waist. Her shiny brown hair was secured in a large, neat bun at the base of her neck. A pair of large gold hoops shimmered in her earlobes and a heavy gold bracelet dangled on her left wrist.

“Mr. Murdock?” she inquired as she paused directly in front of him.

“Just Murdock, Ms. Price.”

Agent Hendricks stepped in front of Catherine and extended his hand. “Brian Hendricks,” he introduced himself. “As soon as I see your ID, I can hand Ms. Price and her briefcase—” he lifted his wrist to display the brown leather satchel “—over to you. Just standard procedure.”

Murdock whipped out his Dundee’s identification badge. Hendricks inspected the ID quickly.

“You have the key, don’t you, sir?” Hendricks asked.

Swallowing hard as she broke eye contact with Murdock, Catherine watched his huge hand as it delved into his pocket and produced the handcuff key. Then hurriedly, she rummaged in her purse for the key to the briefcase, wanting to make sure it was safe.

“Is that the key to the briefcase?” Murdock asked.

“What?” Momentarily flustered, Catherine hesitated before she replied. “Yes. Why?”

Without asking permission or making any comment, Murdock took the key from her. His big, callused fingertips brushed over the soft, smooth flesh of her palm. She sucked in a deep breath at the contact.

“Better let me keep that.” He realized that she’d felt it, too. That electrical current snapping between them at a mere touch. Damn! He didn’t like this. The last thing he had expected was to be attracted to Lanny’s daughter.

Catherine glowered at him, but didn’t respond.

Hendricks cleared his throat. Murdock hurriedly uncuffed the man and took possession of the briefcase containing a hundred thousand dollars in U.S. bills.

“Good luck, Ms. Price,” Hendricks said.

“Thank you.” Catherine extended her hand to the agent.

The minute Hendricks took her hand in his, the urge to grab her away from the drooling boy made Murdock act hastily. Without so much as a goodbye, he slid his arm around Catherine’s waist and drew her to his side. She tensed immediately and released Hendricks’s hand. Before she could voice a protest, Murdock maneuvered her around swiftly and headed her toward the baggage claims area.

“I don’t think it’s necessary for you to manhandle me, Mr. Murdock!” Catherine pulled away from him and stopped dead still.

Oh, but that was where she was wrong, he thought. You started out with a woman the way you intended to go. Catherine needed to realize that, from here on out, he was running the show.

“I didn’t realize I was manhandling you. I saw no reason to prolong your goodbyes to Agent Hendricks.” Murdock took a couple of steps forward, then paused when he noticed Catherine hadn’t moved. “The sooner we get you and this briefcase out of the airport, the better.”

She moved then, quickly and straight to his side. “You don’t honestly think I’m in any danger here in the Atlanta airport, do you?”

Murdock placed his arm around her again. This time she didn’t protest and fell into step beside him.

“You’re safe, as long as you’re with me.”

“Confident, aren’t you, Mr. Murdock?”

“Just Murdock, Catherine.”

He grinned when he felt her flinch at his use of her given name. Surely she didn’t expect him to call her Ms. Price. He wasn’t one of her students and he sure as hell wasn’t one of the refined Southern gentleman she dated.

He liked the fact that she was tall. Most women barely came to his shoulder, even in heels. But standing only six inches shorter than he, Catherine could look him square in the eye. Close enough to spit, he thought. And something told him that during this trip together, the time might come when she’d do just that—spit in his eye! Catherine might have been raised to be a lady by her Southern belle mother, but there had to be something of Lanny in her. Some streak of wildness. He’d bet his last dollar that a hot-blooded woman was hidden beneath that cool, controlled facade.