Linda Johnston - Guardian of Her Heart

Okay, Dumbo, straighten up and do your duty. He pushed gently to propel her into the fray. This was no time to be polite and let others ahead. Not when his job was to take care of the witness who would net him Farley.

He fought his real inclination. It took every ounce of self-control to follow her downstairs. He wanted to stay, get everyone off the floor. Out of the building. Not play bodyguard to one lady, no matter how pretty she was, how soft or costly her clothes, how necessary her knowledge or powerful her connections. Or how much she appealed to each of his damned senses.

But she was the core of his mission. He’d make sure she was out and safe, and then do what he had to.

He’d make damn sure. Never again would someone for whom he was responsible be hurt. Or killed. Like Cassi…

If she’d only listened to him.

And so he followed Dianna, one hand on her slim, squared shoulder to make sure she kept moving. He stayed one step above her as they descended.

Shrill, scared voices reverberated from the stairwell walls. “Is this a drill? Why weren’t we notified? Where’s the fire?”

Above them all, above the blare of the fire alarm muffled by the stairwell, one strong female voice right in front of him shouted, “It’s probably nothing, everyone. A suspicious package was found. We’re just being cautious and getting everyone out.”

The voices in the stairwell became louder, more frantic, as people relayed the message to others who hadn’t heard: “Bomb!”

But Travis had to admire Dianna. Scared as she might be, she was taking charge, calming others.

Keeping her safe just might wind up being one hell of a worthwhile endeavor. And not just because she could ID Farley.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” Jeremy Alberts demanded, maneuvering toward them, suit jacket flapping and dark leather briefcase in hand. “Dianna, are you all right? Why is everyone out here?”

Dianna and he stood across the street, catty-corner from the second newest structure in the area, with a lot of other people evacuated from Englander Center. They were more than three hundred feet away, which Travis said was the minimum evacuation area when a bomb was found. Hopefully, the Marvin Braude Center for Constituent Services wouldn’t become the newest building around here again.

Dianna had also hoped, in this crowd and in the shade of the civic center buildings blocking the early-morning sun, that Jeremy wouldn’t find her immediately. She hated the idea of having to tell him that the center he’d conceived of and built, that now—besides his daughter Julie—was the focus of his world, was in danger of being destroyed.

She’d been in danger of being destroyed. That wouldn’t sit well with Jeremy, either.

Dianna felt laughter bubble from somewhere inside her. Realizing it would sound hysterical, she quashed it by taking a deep, calming breath. But Jeremy had made it obvious over and over that he considered her more than an employee, more than a surrogate aunt to Julie. Though Dianna had been careful never to encourage him, he might consider her expendability on a par with his beloved building.

At least Julie was another matter. His wife, Millie, was dead now, and he loved no one more than his daughter.

In any event, Dianna didn’t have to answer Jeremy’s questions, for he turned at the sound of sirens coming closer along Van Nuys Boulevard.

The tall, scowling man beside her had no compunction about responding to Jeremy, though. Travis didn’t even keep his voice lowered, despite the throng of evacuees surrounding them. “There was a little present on Ms. Englander’s desk this morning. Since it ticked, we decided someone else should open it.”

Hearing the murmur of voices around them segue into shocked exclamations, she glared up at him. “We decided?” What a stupid thing to say. She realized it the moment it left her mouth. But he hadn’t allowed her a shred of choice. Despite her fear, she’d wanted to make sure others got out safely. He hadn’t given her a chance. He’d simply shooed her out of there, as if she was a gnat with no mind of her own.

Yes, she reminded herself, but she’d been a terribly scared gnat, and now she was a living, unharmed one, maybe thanks to Travis.

“Pardon me.” His tone was as stony as his glare. “I should have allowed you to unwrap it first, and then if you survived the blast, I’d have issued you an engraved invitation to get into an ambulance to have your bloody hands treated.”

“Lovely image,” she grumbled, but then added, almost apologetically, “but you’re right. Thanks for getting me out of there safely.”

She almost grinned at the surprise that arched his sandy brows. “You’re welcome. Any time.”

“No, thank you. Once was more than enough.”

She met his gaze and actually did smile, in response to the sudden twinkle in his dark blue eyes. “I’ll make a note of it.” He was one good-looking guy when he wasn’t scowling.

No, he was a good-looking guy even when he was scowling. But his masculine charm seemed multiplied when he relaxed, even a little.

“Dianna, tell me about that package. Was it Farley’s work? You weren’t hurt, were you?” Jeremy’s concern jolted Dianna back to reality.

But again she didn’t have to answer, for the distant sirens had grown louder, and a fleet of police cars screeched up before the building. A few of the vehicles were huge blue SUVs.

“Hey, what’s happening?” asked Wally Sellers, who joined them. He was panting as if he had run to get there. “Why are the cops here? Is something wrong?”

“Bomb scare,” growled his partner in a low voice.

“You’re kidding.” But Wally’s sudden pallor showed that he believed Jeremy. Dianna worried about the chunky, out-of-breath older man. He seemed a prime candidate for a heart attack. “Where’s the bomb? Does anyone know?”

“Mr. Sellers, Mr. Alberts, you okay?” Cal Flynn, head of the building’s security force, joined them. His blue uniform shirt was untucked, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his round, ursine face. “I’ve got my guys checking the floors for fire, but so far they haven’t found anything. Maybe it’s a false alarm.”

“Or maybe not,” Travis said. “Get them out. Fast. There’s something that looks like a bomb inside. The bomb disposal unit’ll handle it.”

Cal uttered an expletive, then yanked the radio from his belt. “I need to tell my guys to make sure everyone’s out.”

Travis grabbed his hand. “Great idea, but no radio. It might not make a difference out here, but if any of your guys are close to the damn thing, the radio frequency could set it off.” He was pacing, as if it required every bit of self-control to keep himself from—what? Going back inside the building himself?

Dianna heard the sound of a helicopter overhead and looked up. It was close enough for her to make out the call letters of a local news radio station.

Damn! The media already knew what was happening.

“Tell you what, Flynn,” Travis said, standing beside the security man. “I’ve got to go brief those guys on the package.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.