The Bride's Bodyguard Page 8

  She lifted a shoulder. “I always thought that was romantic, even if I didn’t like his design. The thought that he wanted to create something especially for me was sweet.”

  Jake curled his fingers around the ring, and a thoughtful hum rumbled from his throat.

  “You think there’s more to it than that. You think the ring has the bead in it. Don’t you?”

  “It’s the most likely scenario at this point.” He extended the ring to her, and she hesitantly took it from him.

  “What should I do with it? If this bead thing is dangerous, I don’t want to wear it.”

  “I doubt it’s dangerous as is. And wearing it is the best way to keep up with it.”

  Paige scowled and stared at the gaudy jewelry. She had the ring halfway on her left ring finger before she stopped, choosing to slide it onto her right hand instead. When she glanced up at Jake, he arched an eyebrow and sent her a knowing look.

  Self-conscious heat crept up her neck as she returned her attention to her computer screen. “I found Brent’s date book. Maybe something—”

  “Shh!” Jake warned, jerking to attention and waving her silent. He cocked his head as if straining to hear something, then crept to the window. Pressing his back to the wall, he peered through the tiny gap between the blinds and the windowsill. And grumbled a scorching expletive.

  “We have company. Clear out—fast!”

  Chapter 6

  Staying low, Jake hurried back to the counter and raked the scattered papers into a folder.

  Paige’s pulse skyrocketed, terror spiking in her with a full-body shudder. “Is it the terrorists?”

  Visions of more gunfire, more blood, more death made her head swim. Trembling, she closed her laptop and jammed it in Jake’s backpack.

  He scooped up messy piles of paper, shoved the files in the pack with her computer and snatched the doughnut bag from the counter. “No. The Realtor is here with buyers. She’s showing them the yard, the landscaping now. We’ll go out the back.”

  Some of the tension in her chest loosened, but Jake’s haste and concern still frazzled her.

  “Get everything.” He aimed a finger across the room where her suitcase and wedding dress lay on the floor. “We can’t let anyone know we were here—unless you want B and E charges on your police record.”

  B and E. Breaking and entering.

  Her breath stuttered. She’d almost forgotten they were trespassing.

  Paige grabbed the dress, tossed it to Jake. With her coffee in one hand and her suitcase in the other, she followed Jake to the back door. Heart thundering, she waited while he checked the yard through the side window.

  When the lock on the front door rattled, he opened the back door and rushed her out.

  Paige gave the empty house a brief encompassing glance, double-checking that they’d gotten everything. On the living room floor next to the spot where they’d slept, she spotted Jake’s gun.

  She gasped. Pointed. “Jake!”

  He turned to look and gritted out another curse.

  “I’ll get it. You go!” Dumping her wedding dress over her arm, he shoved her outside, directing her with a quick hand gesture. “Cut through that neighbor’s driveway. Meet me on the next street.”

  Trying not to trip over the draping folds of her gown, Paige scurried down the back steps. Her suitcase bumped against her legs. She tried to be discreet, tried not to attract attention, but dragging a suitcase and wedding dress, she was hardly low profile.

  Hurry, Jake!

  When she reached the next residential street, she spotted a large recreational vehicle in a driveway and made a beeline for it. She crouched behind the behemoth, watching and waiting for Jake. Her thudding heartbeat counted the precious passing seconds. After two full minutes, more than enough time for him to nab the gun and meet her, Jake still hadn’t shown.

  What would she do if Jake had been seen? Detained? Arrested? She chewed her bottom lip, her anxiety growing as she considered what could be keeping him. A sheen of perspiration beaded on her forehead, and Paige began planning her next move. If Jake never came…

  She had the ring. Her dress. Her suitcase. Which meant she probably still had the bead. Jake had said going to the police or FBI was risky, that Brent had indicated they couldn’t be trusted for some reason.

  Brent was in the hospital, weak, possibly dying.

  Her father would help her. So would her sisters. But how could she draw any more danger back to her family? She swallowed against the knot forming in her throat.

  Without Jake, she was alone. Despite the steamy Louisiana temperatures, a chill slithered through her. Where was Jake? What was keeping him?

  Jake pressed himself against the back wall of the closet where he’d taken refuge and gritted his teeth in frustration. Rather than starting the home tour with the kitchen, just off the entry hall, the Realtor had brought the buyers straight back to the living room to enjoy the view of the backyard. He’d only had time to dash for the utility closet and prayed no one explored the storage options—yet. Getting caught didn’t worry him. If discovered, he’d have no problem getting past the Realtor and her clients and getting away—but getting away unseen would be far better.

  He hoped Paige had made tracks and cleared the backyard before the buyers reached the windows to admire the yard’s amenities. For five full minutes, the Realtor gushed about the landscaping, the safe neighborhood, the wonderful school district and the underground sprinkler system.

  “And wait until you see the oversize tub and walk-in closets in the master bathroom!” the Realtor cooed. Finally the thump of footsteps and drone of voices moved down the hall.

  Jake cracked open the closet door and peered out, scanning the living room. All clear.

  With the pantherlike stealth the SEALs had taught him, he crossed the floor and slid out the back door. He kept out of sight, using fences and shrubbery for cover as he made his way through the neighbor’s yard and out to the next street. He scanned the road for Paige, and in the gap under a large motor home, he glimpsed a red suitcase, a white gown and two feet.

  He made a point of scuffling his feet as he approached so that he didn’t startle her. He didn’t need her yelping and drawing more attention to them than their strange collection of cargo already did.

  “Paige?” he called quietly, and she darted from behind the RV and threw herself into his arms.

  “Jake, thank heavens! What took you so long?”

  The distress in her wide green eyes made her look all the more vulnerable, fragile. Beautiful. A frisson of heat burrowed into him.

  Earlier, when she’d strolled into the kitchen, rumpled from sleep, he’d almost jumped out of his skin. He’d had to draw on all his reserves not to let on how just the sight of her, tousled and free of makeup, roused carnal images. By keeping his eyes off her and his attention focused on Scofield’s files, he’d brought his body’s instant reaction to her under control. Barely.

  He rubbed her back briefly and stepped away before the press of her curves fired a libido he’d had only a fingernail grip on since last night. “Just detained for a minute. No problem.”

  “No problem? What if you’d been caught?” Her voice quivered, and her eyes rounded.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone who cared enough about him to worry for his well-being. That she cared enough to be concerned did strange things to his heart. Then again, she could have just been anxious for her own safety, not his.

  “I might have been seen, but I wouldn’t have been caught.” He gave her a smug grin to cover the jumpy sensation her concern stirred in his chest. Their hasty getaway was a walk in the park for him, but he found the idea that Paige had worried about him unsettling. Foreign. Intoxicating.

  “So now what do we do?” She sagged against the RV, and her shoulders slumped.

  He rolled the strange tension from his shoulders and glanced around. “We find a new place to stay.”

  “No more vacant ho
uses!” Passion and conviction fired her gaze. “I hate the idea of trespassing, of breaking into someone else’s home. Even if it is vacant and for sale.”

  He nodded. Now that he’d had a little more time to plan their next move, he agreed that they needed to go another route this time.

  “Can’t we just go to a hotel?” Paige’s eyes pleaded with him, and compunction tugged at him. “We could drive somewhere out of town, even out of state.”

  “How would we pay for it without leaving a paper trail? Do you have hundreds in cash with you?”

  “Well, no, but I have enough for a couple nights, anyway.”

  Jake rubbed his cheek, turning the situation over in his head. Where could they stay that was out of the way, but still provided shelter and—

  His gaze darted up to the RV Paige leaned against. He stepped closer and ran his hand down the side wall, kicked the tires. “That’s it. An RV.”

  Paige jerked her head up, her eyes wide. “No, Jake. No way! You are not stealing this RV! I won’t allow it! No more breaking the law. There has to be a way to do this without—”

  He caught her chin in his hand and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “Not this one. I’m not a thief.”

  Paige stared at him, looking poleaxed. With her pupils wide and her bowed lips parted in surprise, she raised a hand to her mouth and drew a shaky breath. Jake had to call on every bit of his willpower to keep from kissing her again.

  He cleared his throat and said, “We’ll rent a camper.”

  Paige curled her lips in and closed her eyes. When she looked up at him again, her dubious expression spoke for her reluctance. “We’re going to camp? Where?”

  “A campground, of course.” He paused. “Wait. Are you telling me you’ve never been camping?”

  She flashed him a weak grin. “Does cheerleading camp count?”

  “Did you stay in tents or cabins?”

  “More like the dorms at the host college.”

  He snorted his dismissal and shook his head. “Darlin’, you are overdue. You’re going to love roughing it.”

  “Roughing it? Can’t we get one of the RVs with the bathroom and kitchen and regular bed?”

  He tugged up his cheek and winked at her. “We’ll play it by ear, see what’s for rent and how far our cash goes.” He looped the backpack over his shoulder and picked up her suitcase. Nodding toward the wedding dress, he frowned. “Since Brent didn’t give you the dress, I think we can safely assume that the bead isn’t one of the sequins on your gown. Can we ditch the dress now?”

  “Ditch it? Like leave it here?”

  “You really want to keep hauling it around with us?”

  “Jake, it’s a Vera Wang! Do you know what it is worth?”

  He gave her a disgruntled frown, then hesitated. “Do you know where there’s a consignment shop or secondhand store where we can sell it? The extra cash would help us out a lot.”

  She pulled her shoulders back, sending him an appalled look that finally melted to resignation. “You’re right. I don’t need it anymore. If selling it will help us, then that’s what we should do.”

  “It’s from Vera Wang’s spring collection. Only worn once, although…” Paige cringed and rearranged the folds of satin to show the consignment shop owner the dress’s new flaw. Blood stains. “I’m afraid it’s far from like-new quality.”

  She cast a side glance to Jake, who looked decidedly uncomfortable in the feminine shop, standing among the frilly prom dresses and lacy wedding gowns.

  The older lady slid her reading glasses down her nose to examine the stain. “Is this red wine?”

  Paige swallowed. “Um, no, ma’am. It’s…blood.”

  The woman hummed a noncommital response and eyed the stains more closely. “Should I ask how you got blood on your wedding gown?”

  “No,” Jake said flatly.

  The woman gave Jake a curious look, then held the dress up. “Well, it is an exquisite gown. And since most of the blood is on the skirt, not the bodice, I think with a little creative tailoring, I can salvage the dress.” She rummaged under the counter and pulled out a slim catalog. “Vera Wang, you say?”

  Paige nodded and pointed in the catalog to the listing for her dress. “There it is.”

  Jake leaned closer, glancing at the listing. His eyes widened, and, making a funny choking sound, he sent Paige a stunned look. “Eight thousand dollars?” he mouthed.

  The shop owner whistled. “I can’t give you anywhere near retail, you understand. I’ll have to deduct for the work I’ll have to invest, plus a standard markdown since it is used.”

  Paige nodded. “I understand.”

  Five minutes later, they returned to the rental car with a hefty sum in Paige’s purse.

  “You know…” she said, giving her hand a considering scrutiny, “we could sell or pawn my engagement ring, too.”

  Jake settled in the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. “You’d be willing to part with it? What about its sentimental value?”

  Paige only leveled a stare at him.

  When he caught her gaze, he grunted. “Okay, we can hock it if you’re willing.”

  She shrugged. “I am. Its greatest value to me now is in how it can get us through the next several days. Heaven only knows what kind of expenses we’ll run into, and if we can’t use our credit cards, since the charges could help the wedding-crashing terrorists track us down, we’re gonna need cash.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure?”

  “Brent got us into this.” She held up her hand and thumbed the diamond solitaire. “His ring is going to help get us out.”

  Jake backed out of the parking space, his expression deeply thoughtful. “What if the bead he says you have is the diamond in your engagement ring? I’m not sure we should part with it until we know more about what we’re dealing with.”

  “Yes, but I’ve had this ring for over two years. Why would the terrorists think Brent had the bead now if he gave me my engagement ring two years ago? Haven’t we decided the bead has to have been hidden in something he’s given me just in the last few weeks?”

  Jake twisted his mouth as he drove. “I see your point. Brent told me the threat he’d needed protection from was due to a recent turn of events, a recent deal that went bad. So maybe we can eliminate the engagement ring.” He scratched the two-day stubble on his chin and grunted. “Okay, we’ll find a pawnshop first, then a camping store where we can get our new digs. I don’t like being out like this where we can be spotted. Once we’re settled at a campsite, we’ll dive back into the rest of those files. Finding the bead is our priority. It’s the key to this whole nightmare.”

  “It is important to park the camper on a level surface and secure the wheel braces before raising the top,” Jake read from the manual that came with the pop-up tent-camper they’d rented at a sporting goods megastore with the money they got by selling her dress and engagement ring.

  Paige stood beside him at the Shady Acres campground and shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t get it. How are we supposed to camp in that little box?”

  “Hang tight. It’s not set up yet.” He lowered his gaze to the manual again and continued setting up the pop-up camper, following the step-by-step instructions. “The top raises, and the sides slide out to make the beds. Believe it or not, there’s even a stove, a table and seats in there.” He scowled at the manual. “When I figure this out,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “But I—”

  He raised his gaze to her again when she stopped abruptly. “But what?”

  She squared her shoulders and gave him a forced smile. “Never mind. I trust you. I just have a steep learning curve here, seeing as how I’ve never—” She glanced around at the other wooded campsites where children played tag and their parents chatted amiably with neighboring campers from folding chairs. “—done this before.”

  Jake grinned. “Honey, this is four-star accommodations compared to some of the places I’ve slept whil
e on missions in the Middle East.”

  But for Paige, who’d clearly led a rather pampered lifestyle, the canvas-walled, crank-top tent-camper was roughing it. Jake studied the skeptical shadows in her eyes. Although she’d kept her concerns to herself for the most part, he’d caught her nibbling her bottom lip several times since they hitched the trailer to the rental car that afternoon. Now, when she caught him studying her, she straightened her posture and flashed a tenuous smile.

  Obviously, being outside of her comfort zone, not knowing what to expect, rankled her need for order and control. Her highly organized mind and impulse to analyze spun their wheels in the unknown territory she found herself in. He admired her for the grace she’d shown so far. She had to have a number of gripes with his choice to camp—the mosquitoes munching on them, the heat, the lack of private bathroom facilities—yet she’d not complained.

  “Need some help?”

  Jake glanced toward the balding man wearing a faded Atlanta Braves T-shirt who’d spoken. A woman with graying brown hair pulled back in a ponytail followed a step behind, smiling warmly.

  “Uh, thanks, but I’ve—”

  “Name’s Pat Appelman. And this is my wife, Diane. We used to have a fold-down camper before we bought the monster over there.” Pat hitched his thumb over his shoulder to the large RV parked in the next campsite.

  Paige’s face brightened politely, and she offered her hand to Pat and Diane. “Paige Ba—”

  “Bailey,” Jake interrupted, almost shouting the name.

  Paige sent him a startled look, and he pasted on a grin as he divided a glance between Paige and the Appelmans.

  “Paige and Jake Bailey. We’re, uh…newlyweds, and she forgets to use her new married name sometimes.” Smooth, McCall. Real subtle. Staying in character, he stepped up beside Paige and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side and kissing her temple. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

  “Um, right. Bailey…silly me.” He felt the tremor that raced through her. Or was that his own shudder, a kick of lust for having her curves pressed close to him? A flash of memory teased him. Her body on his last night. Hot kisses. The spontaneous passion and heat…