A Bodyguard for Christmas. Donna Young

A Bodyguard for Christmas - Donna  Young


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said. “Regina doesn’t have any clothes besides the ones she’s wearing. Someone torched her place tonight with her in it. I was hoping you might have some to spare.”

      “You’ve been busy,” Lara commented, catching the look on Jordan’s face. The hard line of his mouth, the set of his jaw, the slight softening around his eyes—told her that Jordan had gone into protective mode.

      Interesting, considering the fight she’d interrupted when she came down the stairs.

      But it wasn’t only Jordan’s reaction she noticed. The woman seemed to relax almost instantly once Jordan held her. Before that she’d seen the flash of panic, the wariness when she found out about Lara’s pregnancy.

      “It just so happens that I have some clothes,” Lara said, keeping it light. “You lost everything?” She took the opportunity to study Regina, instantly liking the slight tilt of the chin, the proud set of her shoulders. “You’re more Celeste’s size then mine, but I’m sure I can find something.”

      “Celeste?” Regina asked, the wariness appearing almost instantly.

      “My sister-in-law. Ian’s brother’s wife. If you can follow that,” Lara joked, deliberately putting the younger woman at ease. “But don’t worry, she won’t mind.”

      Suddenly, Lara caught the scent of smoke. “Is that you two?”

      Regina nodded. “We haven’t had a chance to really clean up—”

      “You’re probably dying for a hot shower.” Lara tugged gently at Regina’s arm, separating her from Jordan. “You can use our guest shower if you want, Jordan.”

      “I’ll pass. I can grab a shower back at the motel.”

      “I don’t want to impose,” Regina insisted.

      “You’re not,” Lara said, deciding the matter. “I’ll find some clothes for you, too, Jordan, if you want.”

      “I have some, thanks.”

      “Come with me. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chance to visit with another woman,” Lara whispered to Regina, lying without a hint of guilt. “You do mind, don’t you?”

      Before Regina could reply, Lara stopped at the bottom step and glanced at her husband. “Why don’t you boys have some sandwiches made up and brought into the library?”

      “Good idea. When you two are done, why don’t you meet us in there?” Ian said, studying the two women with an approving smile as they climbed the stairs.

      “Stop ogling your wife.”

      “I’m not, I’m ogling your girlfriend.”

      “She’s not my girlfriend.”

      “Too bad. She’s tough. A scrapper,” Ian said with admiration.

      “Girlfriends end up being collateral damage in our line of business, remember?” Still, Jordan’s gaze followed Regina until she disappeared into the main bedroom upstairs.

      “Can’t argue there,” Ian commented. “That’s why I left.”

      “You left because you wanted to make whiskey. Just so happened, you fell in love with another operative. Just like your brother, Cain, did with Celeste and Roman did with your sister, Kate,” Jordan pointed out. “They all still work for Labyrinth.”

      “None are field ops,” Ian remarked. “You know as well as I do why Cain is the director of Labyrinth. He chose the desk job after Jon Mercer left, to protect Celeste and his boys.”

      “Celeste still profiles for Labyrinth. And Kate still works their technology division. And Roman is still contracted as one of their security specialists,” Jordan insisted, then jabbed a thumb up at the stairs. “Regina owns a bookstore.”

      Ian raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you’re not tempted to sleep with her.”

      “Hell, yes I’ve been tempted. Have you looked at her, Ian? What heterosexual male wouldn’t want her?” Jordan said, exasperated. “But I’m not going to. I promised Chris I’d protect her. No more, no less. The sooner I can figure out who tried to kill her, the quicker she can go back to her safe, ordinary life.”

      “You could always retire.”

      “And do what? I’ve been trained for one thing. I’m damned good at it, too.”

      Ian considered Jordan for a moment, not arguing. Jordan was good at what he did. In fact, he was probably one of the best left in the field. “You were goading her on purpose. Why?”

      Jordan shrugged. “I wanted to see if she would slip up with any lies while in a temper.”

      Ian snorted with derision. “You know as well as I do she’s telling the truth.”

      “I knew pretty much before we even got here,” Jordan admitted, wryly. “You’re not the only one with instincts.”

      “So?” Ian prompted.

      “So, it takes her less than ten seconds to get under my skin when she’s in a temper,” he admitted, aggravated.

      What he didn’t admit was that the angrier she got, the prettier she became. Her eyes sparkled, her face flushed pink and her mouth got downright sassy.

      Just the thought of all that sass turning to passion shifted his baser instincts into overdrive. And frustrated the hell out of him.

      “Most people call it foreplay.”

      Startled, Jordan stared at his friend.

      Ian grinned, flashing a row of white teeth. “Only obvious when you’re not caught up in it. Remember when Lara and I used to go at it?”

      “Yes. You drove me crazy.” A few years back, Lara and Ian had fought like cats and dogs up to the moment he chased her to France. Even then, it took a while for Ian to convince Lara he loved her. And at the time, she was seven months pregnant with Ian’s baby.

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