Linda Conrad - Safe by His Side

So far she’d been as annoying as hell to him. But even with that, there was something about her that reached out to him and made him curious. Because he couldn’t imagine why he felt the way he did. Blythe didn’t look a thing like his normal choice of female companion, and her background didn’t appear to have been complicated or demanding. By the sound of that report, she was just what she appeared. Perhaps she’d been born into an extraordinary family, but the divorced teacher turned tutor turned guardian wasn’t anything to write home about.

Still…there was something.

Yawning and becoming resigned to working with her regardless of how he felt, Ethan hoped the police would be able to get a line on the little girl’s stalker soon so he could turn the job over to someone else and go on to the next thing.

Still not sure the direction the rest of his life would take after this assignment, Ethan was positive of one thing. Working with Blythe Cooper had to be just a short-term arrangement.

Despite the fact she hadn’t gotten a whole lot of sleep, Blythe woke up at 5:30 a.m. clear-eyed and ready to face the day. Yeah, and what a great day, with Ashley acting irritable and anxious and with herself having to face the new bodyguard again.

Terrific.

Suddenly grouchy, Blythe headed for the shower. She had lain awake most of the night hating herself for the tone she’d had to take with Ash at bedtime. The child was usually so good and sweet and never caused anyone a moment’s problem. But of course that was all back before her mother had moved out to the pool house to die and then refused to let Ashley slack off from work for even so much as one lousy morning.

It wasn’t fair. But then life wasn’t fair, was it? If life always turned out the way you wanted, then Melissa wouldn’t be dying and there would be no stalker to threaten a little girl star—and no need for a bodyguard to drive Blythe right up the wall.

But Blythe reminded herself that the best plan, the only plan, was for her to deal with Ash as gently as possible, and to deal with Ethan from a distance until the threat was gone.

Twisting the water faucets to hot, Blythe stripped and stepped under the spray. Trying not to think of the man, she soaped up and thought of him anyway.

Since the first time she’d seen him standing there in the shadows, Blythe had acknowledged that he must be one of the world’s top ten best-looking men. With his firm, solid jawline, the golden skin tone that spoke more of a Latin heritage than his Irish name might suggest and those wicked gray eyes—eyes that seemed to take in everything and could go from charming playboy to dedicated bodyguard in an instant—Ethan Ryan would be a hard man to forget.

As hot water sluiced over her body, carrying soap bubbles down through every crevice, flickers of sexual tension licked across her belly. She absolutely refused to allow any such feelings. Blythe had long ago given up reacting to a pretty face and a charming demeanor. After last year’s fiasco, she’d sworn never to let another charmer worm his way under her defenses.

Never again. Her job, her relationship with Ash and her ego would never make it through another disaster as bad as falling for someone like that. Twice in her life was more than enough for any sane woman, thank you.

She twisted off the water and began towel-drying her hair. Going about the business of getting dressed for the day, Blythe tried to regroup so she could manage to face Ethan without letting him find any cracks in her facade.

Since Ash’s series production company would be shooting exterior shots for the last time today, Blythe decided to pull on a pair of jeans and a cotton sweater. After wrestling with the wild tangles on her head for a few minutes, she finally gave up and pulled it all back off her face with a fuzzy rubber band. Not a particularly flattering look for her she knew, but practical and easy.

With a slow, deep breath, she drew herself up and felt ready for anything. Until she stepped out of her room and stumbled at the surprising sight of Ethan, awake and dressed and standing in the hallway as though waiting for her. Bracing a hand on the wall, she had to take another deep breath before she could speak.

Leaning back against the threshold to Ash’s room, he stood with his arms folded, his chin set and those gray eyes watchful. Ethan didn’t so much as move an eyelash when he spotted her. With hair still slick from shower dew, a freshly shaven face and his chambray shirt sleeves rolled halfway up his arms, the bodyguard looked every bit as dangerous as a German shepherd guard dog. More so, because of what the sight of him did to her libido.

“What are you doing?” she demanded in a stage whisper. “Is something wrong or are you just being extra careful? Ash can’t be in that much danger inside her own room.”

With movements slow and deliberate, Ethan took her elbow and stepped two yards down the hall before he turned to speak. “Everything was quiet in there until about ten minutes ago. From the sounds of things, Ashley is up and moving around and may have been using her computer. It’s my job to be extra careful until the doors are rekeyed and a guard is in place on the gate. I’m here in case she needs anything.”

“You think the stalker might’ve left another one of those messages for her?” The thought made Blythe’s skin crawl. “It wouldn’t be possible unless he got into the house again somehow.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched. “No, that’s not what I think.” The intensity of his stare made her feel itchy and vulnerable. But her job wasn’t the only one on the line here, so she straightened her spine and lifted her chin as she got ready to let him have it.

Before she could open her mouth, he seemed to settle for a shrug. “Why don’t you go on in and check Ashley’s computer? See for yourself.”

Everything inside Ashley’s room seemed perfectly sound. The girl was in her bathroom, brushing her teeth and getting ready for the day. The note still blinking on the computer screen had come from her mother, reminding Ash of the day’s shooting schedule, what she should wear to the studio and that she should pay attention and do whatever the new bodyguard told her to do.

Blythe gritted her teeth. The irritation she automatically felt because of Melissa stepping onto her turf must be set aside. Blythe knew this note was nothing more than a last desperate grasp for the parental control that Melissa realized was slipping through her fingers for good.

Blythe was still plenty annoyed over Ethan’s earlier smug arrogance, and also that sensual glint in his eyes when he looked her way. But she didn’t want any of that to cost her the job she loved.

Vowing to stop letting him get to her, Blythe helped Ash get ready. At the last moment she found the day’s script pages stuffed under Ash’s bed, put them in her briefcase and then managed to grab them both a glass of OJ on the way out. Despite Blythe’s annoyance and her growing foul mood, she let Ethan usher them through the front door when the studio limo arrived to take them to the back lot.

This was going to be one hell of a long day.

As the limo pulled away from the Davis mansion’s cul-de-sac and headed toward Sunset Boulevard, a man huddled behind the wheel of his five-year-old Ford down the block and watched. Hidden beneath thick bougainvillea and oleander in the driveway of a neighbor who was out of town, the man took no notice of the morning’s sapphire-blue sky or the sweet, romantic scent of orange blossoms perfuming the Southern California air.

He’d seen enough to give him several new directions to follow. He had slowly worked at setting this plan in motion over the last month or so, and every detail needed to be perfect for him to get what he wanted.

Last night’s “stalker” note and the commotion that had followed had actually seemed to be accomplishing just what he’d hoped. Then a few hours ago he had been disappointed when the police left after only a cursory search. That kind of reaction wasn’t nearly good enough. They’d given up too soon. He would need to ramp up the tension.

But his plans were taking shape. The goal was in sight.

“Wow!” one of the production assistants whispered loudly as the group of young women standing at the crew’s catering table all turned to stare. “Someone get me a camera. Anyone have a cell phone handy? That dude is seriously yummy. Who is he?”

Immediately two cell phones appeared, one having been pulled from someone’s short’s pocket and one unbelievably slipped out of a bra, and both started snapping shots in a fury. Amazing how those phones had been so handy, since the director had banned cells from the set. Blythe cringed and ducked her head.

It had been a long morning, just as she’d predicted. Ash had fussed and squirmed all through makeup, and uncharacteristically hung back when called to the set. Now the little girl had gone to work with her vocal coach, whom she loved, and Blythe had taken the opportunity to have some badly needed coffee.

She finished pouring herself a cup and tried not to be embarrassed by Ethan Ryan being the center of attention. Although, in black jeans, a black tee and the gray suede jacket that he’d changed into before they’d left that morning, he was seriously yummy looking. He stood by himself about ten yards away from the table, with his feet spread at attention and hands behind his back, silently waiting for Ashley. If Blythe dared to deny knowing him, eventually the truth would be found out. So she decided to join the gossipers.

Clearing her throat, she hoped to switch their attention in another direction and off the man. “He’s Ashley Davis’s new bodyguard. His name is Ethan Ryan.”

All four women turned to stare at her. She had never before been the focus of their attention. In fact, she wasn’t sure they’d ever noticed her at all. The idea that the charming bodyguard could make such a splash with these sophisticated movie crew types made her nervous. But she had to be careful what she said.

Blythe needn’t have worried. Ashley was the last thing on their minds.

“Where’d he come from?” the grip assistant with the long auburn hair asked.

“What’s his background?” the twentysomething script coordinator and the continuity assistant asked at exactly the same time.

The prep tech, who Blythe had always thought looked like an older Lindsay Lohan, took her time while she studied Ethan again. “I’ve never seen him before. He’s definitely never been anybody’s guard on my sets. I would’ve noticed a man who looked like that. No question. Holy moly, is he hot! Has he ever been in the business?”

“Um, no.” Blythe had to say something to make all the speculation stop. “I don’t think so. I understand he recently left the U.S. Secret Service. The president’s detail.”

“Really…” It was the script coordinator, whose name on the set ID tag she wore said Amber Sugarman, who seemed most curious. “My cousin is an administrative assistant in human resources at the Service. She went over there from Treasury right before the changeover to Homeland took place. She says all the guys on the president’s detail are a big flippin’ deal. Why’d he quit?”

Blythe shrugged. “I have no idea.”

But her gaze swung naturally in his direction as she said it—just in time to see him bend over to pick up a wayward piece of paper. To her utter humiliation, she found herself secretly checking out the view of him from behind.

“Hmm,” Amber began thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll e-mail my cousin and see what she knows about him.”