Tempted By The Bodyguard. Elle James
scream, Shelby swung her satchel containing her notes, laptop and wallet, hitting her attacker in the temple.
He grunted and staggered to the side, bringing a hand to his head.
Before Shelby could run, a second attacker, also wearing dark clothes and a ski mask, shot out of the shadows, grabbed her and clamped a gloved hand over her mouth.
She fought, kicking and twisting, but the man was much stronger and bigger than her five feet two inches. He lifted her off her feet.
A van drove up, her captor leaped in, still carrying her, and the man she’d hit dived in beside them.
“No,” she moaned. This was not happening. She couldn’t let it happen. Wasn’t she smarter than this? Shelby struggled, but the arms holding her tightened, the hand over her mouth cutting off her air. The shadowed interior of the van faded. The next thing she was aware of was smoke. She lay on a floor, the smoke growing thicker around her, filling her lungs, blocking her view of the door, her only escape.
A figure materialized out of the drifting smoke, a tall, broad-shouldered man. He scooped her up into his arms and ran out of the house. She nestled against his chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. She breathed in and out, the acrid smell of smoke still burning her nostrils. She was afraid to open her eyes, afraid that when she did she’d still be in that basement, locked in the dark. A captive.
Shelby moaned, her fingers curling around fabric. No.
“Hey, Shelby. You’re having a bad dream. Wake up.”
“No. I don’t want to go back in the dark.”
“It’s okay. You’re free.”
The soothing sound of a man’s voice lured her out of the basement and into the light. She opened her eyes and looked up at a long fluorescent light mounted on a white ceiling in a clean room.
“I’m not in the basement?”
The man chuckled. “No, you’re not.”
She glanced up into the green eyes of a stranger and jerked back, fighting to be free of his hold on her.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m the Secret Service agent assigned to protect—”
She scrambled over the bed and would have fallen off if he hadn’t grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
Shelby winced. “Ouch.”
He frowned, glancing down at where his hand clasped her raw skin. “What the hell?”
“Let me go.”
“I will when you promise you won’t throw yourself off the bed.”
She stared at him, not sure if he was friend or foe and not willing to give up her freedom again so soon. “I promise,” she whispered, tensing, ready to move fast once he let go.
“I’m going to release you and step away from the bed. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m here to protect you, not harm you.”
“How do I know that? I don’t even know you.”
“I’m letting go to reach for my credentials.” He raised his free hand. “Honest.”
“Okay, let go, already.”
He did and she dropped to the ground on the opposite side of the bed, dragging the tubes in her arms with her. The heart monitor wires ripped loose and the machine set off an alarm. Her knees refused to hold her, shaking so badly they buckled, and she felt herself falling, her head swimming as she went down. The IV stand tilted and crashed to the floor.
The man flung himself across the bed and caught her beneath her arms before she hit the tile.
“You’ve suffered a head injury,” he said softly. “You really should take it easy for a couple days.”
“I’m fine.” She leaned into him despite her desire to be free of him. His muscles were solid beneath her fingertips and his breath warmed the side of her neck. “I can stand on my own.”
“Prove it.”
She fought the fog threatening to engulf her and willed her legs to straighten, all the while leaning into the man and his broad shoulders. “I’ve got it now.” Shelby planted both hands on the side of the bed, sagging against it. “I can stand on my own.”
“You’re a stubborn woman.”
“Stubborn is better than dead.”
Slowly, he released his hold and rolled off the bed, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.
The door opened and a nurse rushed in. “What’s going on? Why is she out of bed?” She glared at the man and cast a worried look at Shelby. “Ms. O’Hara, you shouldn’t be up yet. Please, let me help you back into the bed.”
“I don’t want to go back to bed. And who is this man?”
“Why, he’s your bodyguard, Ms. O’Hara. Your grandmother left word that he was allowed to be in your room and we were to do whatever he said in order to protect you.” The nurse planted a hand on her hip and pointed to the bed. “Now, are you going to get back in the bed or will I have to call an orderly to help me put you there?”
“It’s not necessary to call an orderly.” Her stranger was there by her side, scooping her wobbly legs out from under her. Shelby squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling as he set her down on the mattress, the strength of his arms and the solid wall of his chest oddly reassuring and comforting.
“You really should stay in bed until they bring you something less revealing. You can see everything through the gap in the back of your gown.” He grinned and stepped away, missing the hand she swung at his face.
“You’re no gentleman.”
“Never said I was.”
“You never said what you were.”
The nurse tsked. “Please hold still, Ms. O’Hara, while I reconnect the IV and monitors.”
“I don’t want the IV. I’d rather have a steak or lobster.”
“There are no restrictions on your diet. Would you like me to call the kitchen and have them prepare a sandwich?”
“No! No sandwiches. No bologna!” Shelby clapped a hand over her lips. “I’m sorry.” Tears welled in her eyes, clouding her vision. “I don’t know what’s going on, where I am and who he is. And I don’t have a grandmother, just my grandfather. Could someone please tell me what the hell’s going on?”
“I’ll let your family explain all that when they get here.” Daniel dialed the number for Kate Winston’s secretary.
“Debra speaking.” Her voice was clear and cheerful, with no indication she’d been up late the night before. She’d probably been awake since five or five-thirty, preparing Mrs. Winston’s schedule for the day.
“Debra, please inform Mrs. Winston her granddaughter is conscious.”
“I will. Right away. Thank you.”
Daniel had no doubt she would. Debra Winston was the most efficient personal assistant a person could have. He wasn’t sure how Kate could operate without the other woman’s help.
Shelby jabbed at the controls on the bed, making the feet rise, then the head of the bed lower. “I don’t have a grandmother and I don’t need a bodyguard. Damn this thing. How do I get it to sit me up?”
Daniel fought to keep from smiling, took the controls from her hand and adjusted the settings, raising the head of the bed until Shelby sat up. “Thank you,” she