A Time to Die

Ms. Bedell moved forward, her hand outstretched. “You’re from Dundee Security?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Deke shook her hand. “I’m Deke Bronson.” He hitched his thumb in Geoff’s direction. “This is Geoff Monday.”

“I assume that Sawyer explained the situation, and you understand that I want you two on the job until we find the person behind today’s bombing,” Cara said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Deke replied.

She turned to Desmond. “I expect daily updates from the police department. And I want any information you can legally share with Dundee Security to be shared with Mr. Bronson and Mr. Monday. Understood?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Desmond said, a flash of irritation in his gaze.

Cara Bedell turned to the tall, slender African-American woman with curly black hair and striking hazel eyes. “Take tomorrow off, Toni. I don’t want anyone coming to work here until we get heavier security in place.”

“No problem, Ms. Bedell. After what happened, I’m not eager to come back.” Toni turned to the seated woman. “Jafari is waiting for me downstairs. I’ll call you at home later. Are you’re sure you’re all right? You don’t need to go to the ER or…?”

“The medics checked me out,” the woman said. “I’ve got a bruise on one knee and a slight bump on my forehead. I’m fine. Go home. Call me tomorrow. I should know by then if we can return to work Friday.”

Deke and Geoff watched Toni as she exited the office, both quite aware of how attractive she was. Then Deke faced the seated woman. Beautiful didn’t quite describe her. Exquisite might come close. Blond hair hung below her shoulders in soft, loose curls. Blue eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes. A peaches-and-cream complexion was touched with a fading summer tan. He blinked once, twice and then closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, certain his vision was playing tricks on him.

When he reopened his eyes, his gaze connected with the lady’s. Momentarily robbed of breath, he stared at her. It had been ten years, but seeing her again, he felt as if it had been only yesterday. Hers was the face that had haunted his dreams ever since that bloody day in the capital of Gadi when she had gotten caught in the crossfire between his team and Babu Tum’s guards.

She rose from the chair, leaning heavily on a decorative wooden cane with a bronze handle. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She took a step toward him, then held out her free hand.

“I’m Lexie Murrough, the president of Helping Hands.”

CHAPTER TWO

LEXIE GAZED at the big, dark man standing in front of her, and an involuntary shiver rippled along her nerve endings. Sexual awareness, plain and simple. Although not actually handsome—he was far too rugged to be good-looking—he possessed a raw, masculine magnetism that overwhelmed her senses. She couldn’t remember ever having had such a strong reaction to a man.

Before Mr. Bronson could shake her hand, the stoutly built blond guy stepped between them and grinned at her. “I’m Geoff Monday. I believe I’m your bodyguard, Ms. Murrough.”

Deke Bronson grasped his co-worker’s shoulder and urged him aside. “No, you’ve got that wrong. I’ll be guarding Ms. Murrough.” He nodded toward Cara. “Ms. Bedell is your assignment.”

“Are you sure about this?” Mr. Monday said.

“Positive,” Mr. Bronson replied, a look of certainty and determination in his dark gray eyes.

Lexie’s heart skipped a beat. Heaven help her! She instinctively understood that Deke Bronson had claimed her, and his possessive attitude felt oddly personal. If this was some sort of one-upmanship between the two Dundee agents, she really didn’t understand why either would consider her the prize. After all, Cara Bedell was the billionaire heiress.

“Look, whichever one of you is my guy, I’m ready to leave,” Cara told them in an authoritarian tone, one she had perfected from years of having underlings jump at her every command. Lexie knew that Cara didn’t realize how extremely bossy she was, how often people misunderstood her aggressive personality, mistaking it for arrogance and rudeness.

The two agents shared a quick, hard glance, then Geoff Monday walked over to Cara, grinned and gestured toward the door. “Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Bedell.”

“Lexie, I’ll be in touch first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, the police—” Cara cast Bain Desmond an imperious glare “—will have some information for us by then and we’ll know how to proceed.” She turned to Deke Bronson. “Take good care of Lexie. She’s one of the few people I know who’s actually worth her weight in gold.”

Deke nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as Cara and Geoff left, Lexie smiled at the Dundee agent. “If you’ll give me just a minute, I’ll be ready to go.”

He nodded.

“He’ll be staying with you 24/7,” Cara had told her, after she’d made the arrangements—without first consulting Lexie for an opinion—explaining that she had hired a couple of Dundee agents to act as bodyguards for the two of them. “I’d feel better if you moved in with me for the time being, but I know you won’t do that. So do not argue with me about needing around-the-clock protection. Until we know who and what we’re dealing with, we have to work under the assumption that your life is in danger.”

Hours after the explosion, Lexie was still a bit shaky and unnerved. Leaning heavily on her cane, she walked over to Bain. As she placed her hand on his arm, she felt Deke Bronson’s intense stare. In her peripheral vision, she noticed that he was watching her closely. Don’t assume anything, she told herself. It’s nothing personal. It’s his job to watch over you.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Lexie told Bain. “I was looking forward to the burgers and our getting started on your Christmas shopping.”

“Another time.” Bain patted her hand affectionately, then glanced over at Deke. “Take good care of her. When it comes to Lexie, Ms. Bedell is right. Only I’d say Lexie is priceless.”

“I’ll protect Ms. Murrough with my life,” Deke said.

Bain lifted an eyebrow. Lexie’s breath caught in her throat.

She kissed Bain on the cheek. When she turned to Deke, she noted the scowl on his face and the tension in his jaw. Undoubtedly he was one of those people who didn’t approve of showing affection in public. Well, too bad. She believed in it. She was a touchy-feely person. She hugged and kissed friends without giving her actions a second thought.

“My car or yours?” she asked as they walked out into the hallway, Deke two steps behind her.

“Yours. I drove over from Atlanta in a rental, which is supposed to be picked up later today. I believe someone on Ms. Bedell’s staff will take care of that chore for us.”

He paused just outside the door, picked up a black duffel bag and hoisted it over his shoulder, delaying their departure by half a minute.

When they arrived at the elevator, Deke reached around her and punched the down button. When the doors slid open, he grasped her arm, preventing her from entering. After he gave the interior a visual inspection, he urged her forward and into the car. Only then did he release her arm and hit the lobby-level button

“It’ll take some getting used to, having a bodyguard,” she told him.

“If you’ll remember that everything I do is intended to keep you safe, we shouldn’t have any problems.”

“Hmm…I’ll try to remember that.”

She tried not to stare at him, but that didn’t prevent her from being completely aware of him. He stood almost a foot taller than her own five-five, and he outweighed her by a good seventy-five or eighty pounds. His masculine presence filled the small elevator. Then there was the way he smelled. Clean and musky at the same time. Soap-and-water clean, a slight hint of some mild aftershave, and a male scent that was purely his own.

Neither of them spoke again until they reached the lobby, then he asked, “Where’s your car?”

“In the employees-only parking lot in the back.”

“Which door do we take to reach the parking lot?”

“Normally, we’d take the back.” She glanced in that direction and noted the yellow police tape cordoning off the area.

He grasped her elbow. “Out the front, then.”

Once outside on the street, she led and he followed, down the block and up the side street until they reached the alleyway behind the buildings. Sunset came fairly early in November. Shielded by the buildings on either side, the alley was dark and shadowed, even though it wasn’t yet twilight. Deke made two quick, decisive moves. Subtle moves. He unbuttoned his jacket, then clamped his big hand around Lexie’s upper arm. When he touched her, she instinctively glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. His attention was focused on their surroundings, his gaze scanning the alley, the back doors of the buildings and the four cars parked in the lot. Her eyes traveled from his lean, chiseled face down his thick neck to his broad shoulders and wide chest. As he moved, his open jacket shifted, and she caught a glimpse of his shoulder holster.

For half a second, Lexie couldn’t breathe. She hated guns. It was the one thing she disliked about Bain Desmond—that his chosen profession dictated he carry a 9 mm handgun.

She should have realized that a professional bodyguard would carry a gun. If she asked him to remove the weapon and not carry it, he would probably think she was crazy. And he would no doubt refuse.

“Which is yours?” he asked.