Beauty And The Bodyguard. Lisa Childs
a tool?”
She shook her head. “He seems nice.”
So maybe the bride was a bridezilla. “Why does she need protecting?”
“Her father is a very important man,” Penny said, and as she said it, her face flushed.
“Who’s her father?” he asked. And more importantly, why had the fifty-something-year-old widow reacted with a blush at the very thought of him?
“He’s a man who’s made some enemies over the course of his career.”
Gage should have picked up one of the programs from the basket outside the chapel. He’d passed it on his way downstairs to Penny’s office. Then he would know the names of everyone in the wedding party. But he’d wanted to get his assignment before any of the guests arrived.
Now he had it: bridal protection.
“So he thinks some of these adversaries might go after his daughter during her wedding?” The guy had made some seriously ruthless enemies if that was the case.
Penny nodded. “He’s the kind of man who wouldn’t care what someone did to him.” Her face flushed a deeper shade of red.
Who was this guy to her? Apparently, someone she knew well. How well? Just how closely did Penny work with widowed fathers of the brides?
She continued, “But if someone hurt his daughter…”
Gage understood. His best friend, Nicholas Rus, had thought that someone was going after Gage’s sister for vengeance against him—because Nick loved Annalise and she had always loved him. But that hadn’t been about revenge, at least not against Nick or Annalise.
“If this guy has so many enemies,” Gage said, “why am I the only one from the Payne Protection Agency here?” Especially when he knew his boss didn’t trust that he was at a hundred percent yet. But Logan Payne wasn’t the only one who thought that; Gage didn’t entirely trust himself.
He was getting better, but it was still a struggle to sleep, to suppress the flashbacks, to forget the pain…
Penny tilted her head and stared up at him. “You’re the bodyguard the bride needs.”
Gage’s stomach lurched as realization suddenly dawned on him. And even without reading the program, he knew who the bride was. Penny had given him enough clues. He should have figured it out earlier. Hell, he should have figured it out when Penny asked him to help out at the chapel. He’d known she was planning a wedding for someone he’d known. Or at least, he’d thought he’d known her.
He guessed the wedding wasn’t all Penny Payne had been planning. Nick had warned him that she was a meddler. Her kids might not mind that she meddled in their lives, but he damn well minded.
He shook his head. “No…”
“Gage,” she beseeched him.
But he just shook his head again, refusing the assignment. He didn’t care if Mrs. Payne went to his boss and got him fired. He couldn’t protect this bride—not when he was the one against whom she most needed protecting.
“He’s gone,” Penny said.
Woodrow Lynch released a ragged breath and closed her office door behind him. “That’s probably for the best.”
“How can you say that?” Penny asked, her usually soft voice sharp with indignation. “She’s miserable.”
“She’s miserable because of him.” Anger coursed through him as he thought of the pain Gage Huxton had put his daughter through. Some of it had been inadvertent, like getting captured.
But the rest…
Quitting the Bureau.
Reenlisting.
Those had been Gage’s choices.
“Yes.” Penny stalked around her desk to stand in front of him. She was so petite despite the heels she wore with a silky bronze-colored dress. Her eyes were nearly that same color bronze. Her hair, chin length and curly, was a deeper shade of brown with red and bronze highlights. She was beautiful. She was also infuriating as hell. The woman always thought she was right.
And even more infuriating was the fact that she usually was.
“So, it’s for the best that she move on,” Woodrow said.
It had to be for the best, because the wedding was due to start in less than an hour. And he would rather walk his daughter down the aisle to a man who would not make her miserable.
Penny shook her head and tumbled several locks of hair into her eyes. The curls tangled in her long lashes. Instinctively, he reached out to extract them, but her hand collided with his. Her skin was as silky as her hair. Her fingers trembled beneath his, and she pulled away from his touch and stepped back until his hand fell away from her face.
He’d known her long enough—had attended enough weddings in her chapel—that he’d seen how warm and affectionate she was. With everyone else…
With him she was guarded and skittish. Usually. Right now she was also annoyed.
“Megan can’t move on,” Penny said, “unless she has closure.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” He hadn’t meant to ask the question. It had just slipped out, probably because he’d wondered for a while why she had never remarried after her husband died sixteen years before.
Her big eyes narrowed. “We are not talking about me.”
She never did. He’d noticed that, too. She only talked about other people: her kids, his agents and now his daughter.
“Our concern should be only about Megan,” Penny continued. “I’ve never worked with a more miserable bride.”
Now he narrowed his eyes with indignation and pride. “Are you saying that she’s difficult?”
“Of course not,” Penny said. She reached out, almost as if she couldn’t help herself, and touched his arm. She probably only meant to reassure him about his daughter. But then she added, “She’s sad. So sad…”
He shouldn’t have been able to feel Penny’s touch, not through his tuxedo jacket and shirt, but his skin tingled as if he’d felt the heat and silkiness of her skin against his. What the hell was wrong with him?
Maybe he’d been single too long. Like her, he’d lost his spouse. She had died, more than twenty years ago, when their girls were little. But he didn’t need closure—or anything else—but his daughters’ happiness. Ellen was older and settled with a good husband and three beautiful little girls.
But Megan…
He’d always worried the most about Megan and never more than when she got involved with Gage Huxton. She’d fallen so hard for him that it was inevitable she would get hurt.
“She’s marrying a good man,” Woodrow insisted. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he’d used Bureau resources to check out the kid. He was a computer nerd—as introverted and shy as she was. “They’re perfect for each other.”
They’d met in college, in a computer class. They’d been friends for years before they’d started dating. They hadn’t been going out very long before Gage had swept her off her feet.
Damn Gage…
Penny shook her head.
“They are perfect for each other,” he insisted.
“It doesn’t matter how compatible you are,” she said, “if you’re not in love.”
“Love is what made her miserable,” Woodrow said. He could relate to that. Love had made him miserable as well. “Compatibility is more