Myrna Mackenzie - Keeping Her Safe

He smiled. “That’s generally the idea of a bodyguard, yes.”

“Exactly. That’s going to be a problem.”

“In what way?”

Natalie looked at him dead-on. “Vincent, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you are a…well, you’re a rather big man.”

He raised one brow.

She raised one right back.

“It comes up now and then,” he admitted, trying not to grin.

“Yes, well…my contacts might be intimidated by a man with linebacker shoulders. How am I supposed to get people to open up and tell me their secrets if they’re looking over their shoulders wondering what you’re doing?” She threw her hands out in apparent exasperation, and then she frowned. “I’m sorry, I know you have to look forbidding to do your job. I really didn’t mean to insult you.” She glanced up and he couldn’t believe it, but she really did look as if she thought she might have hurt his feelings.

“Don’t worry about it. Any of it. I promise you, Natalie, that I can stay out of your way when it’s necessary. There are times, though, that I’ll need to be a presence. If someone is threatening you, that someone needs to know that you’re not to be messed with. So yes, intimidation helps in those instances.”

Although he understood her concerns, his size had always been a bit of a problem, and not just for others. Vincent was all too aware of the fact that he was physically powerful and that his power needed to be tempered. People got hurt when a big man didn’t control his emotions. He knew that from personal experience, but he really didn’t want to think about that.

If he could help it, he wouldn’t let Natalie experience anything of that nature.

“I’ll keep my distance when I can,” he repeated.

She smiled warmly, and something moved deep inside him. Forget it, he told himself. She’s not for you. Not that any woman was. He dated women. He was, after all, a normal, healthy male. He just didn’t have relationships, not the kind where a man lost it over the color of a woman’s eyes, anyway. As far as he was concerned, the only things he needed to notice about Natalie were those related to this case.

“Now, tell me about the party,” he prompted.

She nodded, her lips suddenly tight. He could almost see her pulling herself together, straightening her spine, breathing more deeply, tightening every muscle as she prepared to relive what had to have been a damned terrifying experience.

“Take all the time you need,” he said gently, prepared to wait all day if necessary.

She lifted her chin high. “I don’t need time, Vincent. I remember that day perfectly. I had been asked to cover the party because it was considered an important social event.” Natalie frowned slightly.

“You didn’t consider it important?” Vincent asked.

She looked up, directly into his eyes. He could see that she would be an effective reporter. One look into those expressive eyes and a subject might give up every secret he possessed. Good thing he wasn’t a subject.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t important. It’s always an event when the Fortune family gets together, but this time it was the governor himself who was honoring Ryan Fortune for his charitable works. It was a very notable gathering.”

Vincent sensed that there was a huge but about to follow, but Natalie surprised him by stopping at that.

“And where did Jamison fit in?”

She frowned. “I thought that Daniel told you all of this.”

“He did. He’s not the one I’m guarding. I need to see things through your eyes.”

Natalie firmed her lips slightly, obviously reluctant, but then she nodded, her dark, shoulder-length hair swishing with her movement. “All right. I’d been assigned to cover the social scene but I was also planning my own story on Ryan’s effect on Fortune, TX, Ltd. in his role as an advisor. I wanted to interview Jamison, and I went upstairs looking for him, but when I got there I heard arguing. I didn’t know what it was, but I…well, I was curious. A reporter’s nose for news, I suppose.”

She looked to the side suddenly, swallowing hard. For a minute, Vincent worried about her.

“The words were ugly,” she said, “but when I got to the door, the arguing had stopped. At first I thought I’d caught a couple embracing. The man had his back to me and his arms seemed to be around the woman, tipping her back in that way you see in movies. I’m not sure exactly what I thought then. Maybe that they were one of those couples that likes to argue and then make up, I guess. At any rate, it was clear that this wasn’t a scene I wanted to witness, and so I turned away and even moved partly down the hall. Then I heard a strange choking sound, and things clicked—the fact that the embrace might not have been all that it seemed. I ran back and I heard a thud. Jamison was standing over the woman. ‘Good riddance. You were more trouble than you were worth,’ he said.”

Natalie turned back toward Vincent. “I’ve thought about that day over and over,” she whispered. “If I had only known what was going on—”

“Natalie, you know it wasn’t your fault.”

She shook her head and sat up even straighter. “I know.” But she didn’t sound completely convinced. Vincent couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through since that day. “Anyway,” she said, her voice regaining strength, “I stood there, frozen, until he looked up to me. Everything seemed to be so unreal. Then, he actually smiled. ‘Take a good look, honey. Because you’ll be next,’ he said. I knew for sure that she was dead, then. I didn’t even think. I just ran and I kept running until I realized that he would get away with murder if I didn’t come back. That was it. I turned around and drove back to the party. They arrested him, and he’s awaiting trial now.”

“The letters?”

“I saved copies if you need to look at them again.”

He didn’t ask why she had saved copies. He would have done the same. And she was a reporter, a person who lived by facts and evidence. But he shook his head. “The experts have gone over them thoroughly. There’s no way of telling who sent them or even if the person who mailed them was working alone.”

“I know. It seems hard to believe that a man accused of murder and under constant guard would be able to sneak messages out.”

“He’s been allowed visitors. Maybe he didn’t write the messages.”

“Yes. It could be someone on the outside,” she said. “An accomplice of his.” Vincent thought he saw her tremble, but she didn’t allow her voice to break. She didn’t show any other sign of being nervous.

He sat forward suddenly and leaned nearer, moving into her space, her soft floral scent filling his senses. “I don’t mean to be immodest, Natalie, but I make a point of being good at what I do. No one—absolutely no one—is going to get to you without going straight through me.”

Finally she smiled, her pretty pink lips curving upward in a way that made his breath hitch in his chest. “You’re a little cocky, Vincent.”

“It goes with the territory. A bodyguard has to be willing to go through walls and step on a few toes to make sure his client is safe.”

She glanced down at her toes.

“Not yours,” he said, grinning slightly.

“Don’t be so sure,” she said. “My parents and my brothers thought I was a hellion. They’ve spent years trying to get me to behave, and even though they’re normally sane, calm people, they’ve been known to go to extremes in their quest to keep up with me.”

“Is that a warning, Natalie?”

“It’s a sad truth, Vincent. I have been told that I’m unmanageable. Consider yourself warned. Now, do you have everything that you need to know?”

“I know enough to get started.”