Linda Johnston - Guardian of Her Heart

She didn’t want compliments from him. She wanted him to leave her alone.

“The problem,” he continued, “is that this morning you do not look as chipper as usual. As lovely.” This time he grinned at her. Good. His roguishness she could deal with much better than his sincerity.

“How would you know? You only met me yesterday.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen your picture. A lot.”

She inhaled deeply. “You did your research, then.”

“I always do my research.” He did not seem uncomfortable alluding to his undercover job here in the elevator.

“Fine. Then you’ll know I don’t scare easily.”

“Could have fooled me yesterday, in the parking lot.” The car reached her floor and the door opened. He blocked it from closing but did not let her leave. “And this morning. What are you afraid of, Dianna?”

“What makes you think I’m afraid?” She forced her words to emerge slowly and coolly, and she painted disdain on her face as she regarded him.

“You obviously didn’t sleep last night. Heavy date?”

She felt her arm tense, as if she were preparing to slap him. And she didn’t do such things. “That’s none of your concern.” She pushed her way past him out of the elevator.

The problem was that she literally had to push him. She hadn’t wanted to touch him, but he stood right in her way. As a result, she felt the substance of his arm as she shoved it aside. And then she had to edge out between his body and the protrusion of the elevator door. She tried not to touch him, but couldn’t avoid it. The tips of her breasts just skimmed his chest. They responded to the contact. She felt them harden. Thank heavens she was wearing a substantial bra and opaque cotton blouse. They concealed her reaction. She hoped.

Even so, the contact wasn’t lost on Travis. His half smile returned, and this time, it twinkled in his eyes.

He didn’t continue to stand there but followed her down the hall. “I’d say it’s very much my concern,” he contradicted as she reached the door to A-S Development. “So, will you tell me what the problem is, or do I have to follow you all morning?”

She sucked in her breath. “No, thank you, Lt. Bronson,” she hissed. “It wasn’t anything. Just a phone call with no one at the other end.”

“I see. Was that the only time?”

She sagged against the hallway wall. “No,” she admitted. With a sigh, she found herself telling him of the spate of hang-ups, the myriad of non-messages on her answering machine. “I figure it’s Glen Farley trying to unnerve me.”

“Sounds like he’s succeeding,” Travis said. “Let me come in, make some calls, and we’ll use his little trick against him, okay?”

Dianna didn’t want to feel heartened by this man or what he said or did, but the way he took her at her word with no proof made her feel light-headed with relief. “How do we do that?”

“If we can trace those calls, we’ll find him. And arrest him. And, bingo, he won’t bother you any more.”

She hadn’t imagined she’d feel like grinning right then, but she did. “As simple as that?”

“Almost.” He smiled back and they both entered the office suite.

The reception area was empty, though the door was unlocked. “Wally?” Dianna called. He didn’t respond, so she looked into his office. He wasn’t there. “He gets here early,” Dianna said, “and opens the door. He sometimes goes back out for coffee.”

“Not a good idea to keep the door open like that,” Travis said with a frown.

“The Englander Dispute Resolution Center is filled with lawyers at this hour of the morning,” Dianna replied with a shrug. “And even they have to go through the security check downstairs.”

But a minute later, when Travis had followed her into her office, she wished she had not been so cavalier.

For there was a wrapped package right in the middle of her otherwise clear desk.

And it was ticking.

Hell. Too bad Travis couldn’t pull a trick from up his sleeve to deal with that.

“Oh, no. Farley.” Dianna’s whisper was little more than an agonized breath. Her knees appeared to buckle, and she grabbed at the closest chair.

As Travis snagged Dianna’s arm to support her, he memorized the package in a glance, in case he needed to describe it later: brown paper, like a grocery bag, cellophane tape globbed all over so this present would not be easily unwrapped.

Not till it unwrapped itself. In one big ka-boom!

’Course it might not be a bomb. Yeah, it could just be a tiny teddy bear with a bad heart.

And if he believed that, he’d give the next telemarketer who called him his credit card and social security numbers.

As he studied the ticking SOB, he propelled Dianna in front of him. Not that his body would be much protection if the thing went off. “Let’s get you out of here.” He spoke calmly but was already shoving Dianna from the room. Fast.

She was shaking, but damned if she didn’t drag her feet.

“What if it goes off? What about all the other people in the building?”

“You take care of that out in the hall. Set off the fire alarm. We need to evacuate the place.”

“Okay. Sure. But what are you going to do?”

“Deal with the damned bomb.” And he was. Indirectly. Without a hint of finesse, he pushed Dianna through her office door, out of the thankfully still-empty reception area and into the hall. He glanced quickly down the well-lighted corridor. Its off-white walls were decorated generously with wooden molding at upper and lower edges. Carved door frames matched. All attractive stuff but hardly useful… His eyes lit on the fire alarm beneath a sign heralding the emergency exit. “There.” He let go of Dianna’s arm and pointed toward the control box. “Set the damned thing off.”

“Okay.”

As she made her way in that direction, he ducked back into the reception area and picked up the phone. He had to use a land line. If the bomb was set to go off by a remote signal, he couldn’t take the chance that his cell phone frequency would do the trick. He’d even shut off the computer if he’d had time, but if it hadn’t set the damn thing off already, it wasn’t likely to.

He thanked his lucky stars and good memory that he connected first thing with the LAPD Explosives Section. He quickly gave the particulars to the bomb tech who answered the phone.

And then he hustled into the hall after Dianna.

Fortunately, he’d completed the call to the bomb squad while he could still hear himself think. The corridor seemed plenty roomy before, but now it filled with the eardrum-shattering blare of the fire alarm. He resisted the urge to cover his ears. There were more important things for his hands to do.

People began to spill from other doors. Despite the continuing din from the alarm battering his skull, he heard irritable mutters and curses from men and women whose somber suits announced they were part of the legal profession. What, no ordinary folks, like their clients? It was probably too early in the morning, which was good. The building was less crowded.

At least now Dianna seemed steady enough to leave, only she headed for the elevator bank. “No elevator,” he insisted, waving to direct the surge of people toward the emergency exit. He made sure Dianna was at the head of the line as they reached the door. The narrow but well-lighted stairwell had already begun to fill with people streaming from the two floors above.

At least the blare of the alarm was muted here, but he still felt it grate against his teeth. He ignored it, putting his hand on the back of Dianna’s dark green jacket. The material felt expensive. Soft to his touch.

If just her suit gave him tactile fits, he wondered what her light hair that just skimmed the jacket’s collar would feel like.