The Bodyguard And The Bridesmaid. Metsy Hingle
brother aside before she could even catch her breath. “Marry me. I’m a much better catch.”
Clea laughed at their outrageous proposals, the tension inside her evaporating. Amused, she relaxed as the brothers bickered over which of them she should marry. Nephews of the owners of Destinations, the pair were familiar faces at the agency she managed and the source of more than a few fantasies among her female staff. Given their good looks and reputations with the fairer sex, Clea was grateful she’d never been tempted to engage in anything more than friendship with either man. Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about their brother Ryan. Ryan disturbed her in a way no other man had for a very long time.
“Clea, tell my thick-headed brother here that he’s wasting his time,” Sean insisted.
“You’re both wasting your time,” came Ryan’s deep voice from behind her. “Clea isn’t going to marry either one of you clowns. She’s going to marry me.”
Stunned, Clea whirled around. Her pulse hammered furiously as she stared at him. Mischief sparkled in his eyes as he twirled the bride’s garter on his index finger. A smile played across his lips. “Marry you?” she repeated, her temper spiking at his arrogance. “Why I—”
“Can hardly wait. I know, darling. I feel the same way.” And before she could utter a word of protest, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her.
One
“I want Clea Mason’s case,” Ryan said firmly. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared across the desk at his brother Michael and prepared to do battle.
Michael disengaged the speakerphone, severing the telephone connection with their aunt. He leaned back in his chair. “There is no ‘case,’ little brother.”
Ryan bit back the temper that had been building inside him from the moment his Aunt Maggie had come on the line and told them some nut had been pestering Clea. “I may be the new kid on the block here as far as being a private investigator goes, but as a former cop I can tell you that some pervert sending Clea twisted love letters and calling her on the phone makes for a good case of harassment.”
“Which is what I tried to tell Aunt Maggie,” his brother replied, looking more like a lawyer than a detective in his neat white shirt and tie. “We’re security specialists, Ry, not bodyguards.”
“The office manager at Destinations being harassed by some guy doesn’t warrant some specialized security?”
“You and I both know this isn’t a security matter. It’s a police matter—which is why I didn’t want to take this job to begin with.”
“But you did take it,” Ryan pointed out.
Michael scowled at him. “When’s the last time you came up against Aunt Maggie and won?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “Besides, what chance did I have when you sat there agreeing with everything she said?”
“I happened to think she was right. Clea needs protection.” At his brother’s snort, Ryan said, “Come on, Mike. You heard Aunt Maggie. This has been going on for a couple of months, and the cops haven’t gotten anywhere. That’s why she wanted to hire us, and it’s the reason you let her bamboozle you into accepting the job. And since you did accept the job, someone needs to keep an eye on Clea. I’m volunteering.”
“Seems to me you’ve been keeping your eye on Clea for quite some time.” Michael pitched down his pen and eyed Ryan closely. “Hell, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she was the reason you decided to leave the LAPD and move back here to join Sean and me at the agency.”
It was pretty close to the truth, Ryan admitted silently. Clea had played a role in his decision to come home. But as the youngest of four boys, he’d learned a long time ago not to give his brothers that kind of ammo. They’d rag him to no end if he did. “My reasons for coming home aren’t the point here. Clea’s safety is. I’m offering to do the job and make sure nothing happens to her.”
“The ‘job’ would be a lot easier if we could tell Clea we were going to keep her under surveillance.”
“I agree. But since she balked at the idea when Aunt Maggie suggested it, we can’t. I’ll just have to protect her without her knowing it.” And while he was keeping her safe, who knew what would happen? A smile tickled his lips as he remembered meeting her for the first time six months ago. He had stopped in at the travel agency to visit his aunt and uncle. While he had waited, he’d been admiring the rear view of the feminine curves and legs of the woman whose back was to him.
Then she’d turned around. And wham! It hit him—that quick-fire flash of awareness. One look into those cat-green eyes, and he’d been a goner. Sure, there was lust. A man couldn’t look at Clea and not want her. But it was more. There was something endearing about the swift way she moved around the office, the way she dealt with the young mother trying to stretch her travel dollars for a visit home. It touched something inside him.
He hadn’t expected it, and certainly hadn’t thought it would happen with her. He’d heard all about the efficient Clea. Ambitious corporate women held no appeal for him. He liked his women soft, fragile—the Suzy-Homemaker types who would be happy being a wife and producing a team of little leaguers. No way had he imagined falling for a career woman. And he certainly hadn’t imagined that the woman he did fall for would take so much convincing that he was the right man for her.
“—besides, you’ve only been with the agency a few weeks. Hardly enough time to get your feet wet in this business.”
Ryan jerked his attention back to Michael and realized he had missed half of what his brother had said to him. “Sorry. What was that you were saying?”
“I said tailing someone who knows you can be a tricky business. Both Sean and I have had more experience at it. It might be better if one of us handled this.”
“No way.”
“Ryan—”
He shot to his feet. Flattening his palms on the desk, he leaned in, bringing his face within inches of his brother’s. “I’d say twelve years on the police force with eight of those years working under cover in vice and homicide gives me a lot of experience. So don’t pull that garbage about you and Sean being older and more experienced. I’m telling you I want this case.”
“What case?” Sean asked, breezing into the room and looking as though he had just tumbled out of bed. Some female’s bed no doubt, Ryan decided, given the sleep-hungry, but sated expression on his brother’s face. Making himself at home on the edge of Michael’s desk, Sean drank deep and long from the steaming cup he held in his hands.
“Clea Mason’s case,” Michael replied.
Sean glanced up from his cup, his eyes sharp with interest. “Clea The Dish is a client?”
“Not exactly,” Michael informed him as he shoved back from his desk. He went over to the coffee setup and poured himself a cup from the pot. “It seems some guy’s been sending her twisted love letters. Last night he phoned her. Aunt Maggie was with Clea when she got the call, and from what she heard, the fellow’s verbal skills leave something to be desired.”
Sean swore and crushed his empty cup. “I’d like to get my hands on the creep.”
“You’ll have to wait in line,” Ryan informed him.
“No one’s going to get a shot at the guy unless the cops catch him,” Michael replied. Until they do, Aunt Maggie wants someone from Fitzpatrick Security to keep an eye on Clea.”
“And that someone is going to be me,” Ryan insisted.
“Hey, wait a minute! Why do you get to have all the fun?” Sean countered. “Besides, I think Clea has a thing for me. Did you see the way she looked at me at that wedding reception last week? The woman’s nuts about me. I certainly wouldn’t object to keeping her company. I’m your man, Mike. Don’t worry, I’ll take