“We’ll see.” She shimmied past him and exited the room.
Ned clapped Kyle on the back. “You have your work cut out for you. But I trust you’ll keep her safe.”
His gaze remained on the door. “On my life.”
He only hoped the prickly doctor let him do his job.
* * *
Five hours later, exhausted from the stress of her bodyguard’s watchful eye during two minor surgeries, Brenda led the way to her condo. They took the elevator to the fifteenth floor. Her stomach fluttered with nerves. The space was too confining. He was too close. She was having way too much trouble ignoring the waves of attraction sizzling between them. She met his gaze in the reflection off the smooth metal doors. He seemed to see right through her, to her very core.
She averted her gaze, mad at herself for the ridiculous thought.
Just how was this going to play out? Surely he wasn’t expecting to sleep in her apartment. She could only pray he’d make sure she was safely inside and then disappear until morning.
Wishful thinking.
As she approached her door, she dug inside the bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a set of keys. She reached to insert the key in the doorknob. As quick as lightning, her new bodyguard snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her backward, against his hard chest. Awareness of his muscles and strength slipped over her like a sheet of silk.
Maybe she’d been wrong to think this man couldn’t be tough and intimidating.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to reconcile the warmth spreading through her to the outrage she should be feeling at being manhandled so unceremoniously. She couldn’t quite get there though.
His corded arm and the musky scent of his aftershave distracted her. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t had this kind of close contact with a man in...well, a long time.
“Saving you from yourself.” His whispered answer tickled her ear and caused a rippling effect of shivers to course through her. “The door could be booby-trapped. Someone wants you dead, remember?”
If he was trying to frighten her, he succeeded. Her stomach rolled. She hated how vulnerable she felt. Someone out there wanted to hurt her and didn’t care who they hurt in the process. And she didn’t know who or why. She could only guess and make assumptions. She bit her lip, a habit she’d dropped years ago but fear had resurrected.
Kyle set her aside. Impossibly she felt even more vulnerable without his strong arms around her. He moved closer to the door and slowly ran his hand around the edges of the frame, inspected the lock and then held out his hand. “Keys?”
She handed over her flashlight key chain with all her keys. “The silver, square one.”
He inserted the key in the lock and turned it. Brenda winced, half expecting an explosion. None came. He turned the handle and cracked the door, once again inspecting the edges.
“What are you looking for?” she asked, grimacing at how small her voice sounded.
“Trip wires.” He pushed the door wide. “Door’s not rigged.” He held up a hand. “Let me clear the place first.”
She blinked with alarm as he withdrew a gun he’d kept hidden at his back beneath the loose shirt. Now she better understood his garb. He dressed to conceal his weapon.
Probably made people underestimate him, just as she’d done when she’d first set eyes on him. He entered the condo with the gun held in front of him and disappeared from view while she waited in the hallway. Her gaze strayed to the elevators, half expecting some bogeyman to come bounding out.
Kyle returned, the gun out of sight and a grin on his handsome face. “Nice place.”
“Thanks,” she said automatically.
Though the idea of him entering her home and inspecting every nook and cranny left her feeling exposed. She never let anyone into her inner sanctum. But she didn’t have a choice. And that grated on her. Her unknown assassin had taken her options away. Anger stirred, mixing with the fear.
She placed her purse on the maple side table just inside the doorway. Since she’d worked a double shift at the hospital and had stayed the night there last night, the place smelled musty and hot after several days of being closed up.
She went straight to the window, drew back the floor-to-ceiling drapes and cracked the windows to let in some fresh air. They were fifteen floors up with an unobstructed view of Lake Michigan. The sight of sailboats gliding on the blue water made her smile. She wished she were out there, where the only thing she had to worry about was the wind and the rigging.
“This view is the reason I picked this building,” she explained. “I’m a little farther from the hospital than I’d prefer, but being this close to the lake and having this view makes the trek worth it.”
“Fantastic view, but a security nightmare,” Kyle commented as he moved to stand directly in front of her. He propelled her back several feet.
She cocked her head. “How can you say that? No building lines up directly with this one.”
“A sniper doesn’t need a direct angle.” He rocked back on the heels of the loafers he’d changed into earlier. “I could make the shot from the roof of the structure to the right, no sweat.”
She peered over his shoulder to the rooftop of the closest apartment building. Chills swept over her despite the humidity. Great. Now she had to worry about snipers, too.
He drew the drapes closed, shrouding them in a false sense of intimacy.
“I’m starved.” Kyle flashed a breath-stealing grin.
She didn’t know if she’d get used to that. He’d been a constant distraction all day. She’d had to force herself not to glance at him during her surgeries for fear she’d make a mistake and slice where she shouldn’t.
She normally didn’t have a problem concentrating while performing an operation. In fact her single-minded focus set her apart from other doctors who liked to talk or listen to music during a procedure. Not her. She needed the room quiet so the patient had her complete attention.
But today...though Kyle had remained quiet and out of the way near the door as promised, he might as well have been wearing a neon flashing light. The man disturbed her on so many levels.
“We can order in or there’s a good Thai place around the corner,” she said, glad for the neutral subject.
“Thai sounds good. Plus, we can talk about how this is going to work. Set some ground rules.”
“Rules?”
His grin widened. “Yep.”
Her stomach clenched.
Needing some space, she said, “I’ll change and we can go eat.” And talk about the rules. Oh, joy.
She retreated to the sanctuary of her bedroom and closed the door, grateful for the momentary respite from his overwhelming presence. There was something about him, his energy and charisma, that made the air around him vibrate. It was exhausting. And thrilling.
She quickly changed out of her hospital attire and into casual clothes. She hesitated before stepping out of her room. How was she going to survive the next few days with that hunk of a man in the other room dogging her every step? Physical distance from him wasn’t possible. He was here to protect her, and that meant sticking close. But she could keep an emotional distance. She was good at that.
* * *
Kyle studied the professional portrait hanging over the gas fireplace in Brenda’s living room. The image captured a very stern-looking man—who Kyle guessed was Brenda’s father—a perfectly coiffed dark-haired woman—presumably Mrs. Storm—and Brenda as a young woman. Probably late teens, Kyle decided.