Guardian of Her Heart. Linda Johnston O.
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.
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.