Beauty and the Bodyguard

“Or the shoot,” she added softly. Her tobacco-brown eyes held her father’s for a long moment.

His jaw tight, Jake Fortune turned to his wife. “You talk to her. Evidently I can’t anymore.”

Brushing past her husband, Erica moved to her daughter’s side. “Please be sensible, darling. This campaign is so important, not only to Fortune Cosmetics, but to your career.”

“I’m starting a new career after this campaign, remember?”

“I know, I know. And you’re wise to think about acting as a full-time career. Modeling is a brutal business, where a woman’s worth is measured only by her looks.” Erica’s musical voice took on a bitter edge. “Unfortunately, that’s true in more than just modeling.”

She didn’t turn her head, didn’t so much as glance at her husband, but Jake Fortune stiffened. If his wife noticed his reaction, she ignored it.

“But you’re just reaching your peak, Allie. You’ve got years ahead of you yet.”

“Mother…”

“You’re more photogenic than I ever was, and you’ve agreed to launch the new line. If it’s as successful as we hope, you’ll reach the highest plateau in your career. I just wish we had decided on a studio shoot for this campaign, instead of a natural setting,” Erica continued, her voice sharp with worry. “I don’t like the idea of you all alone for two weeks, out in the middle of nowhere.”

The corners of Allie’s full mouth edged upward. “Come on, Mother,” she teased gently. “A five-star resort a few miles outside Santa Fe is hardly the middle of nowhere. And you know as well as I the size of the team necessary for this shoot. I’ll hardly be alone.”

Later, Rafe would tell himself that he would have walked out of the library as planned, if it hadn’t been for the hint of laughter in her voice. And for that damned almost-smile. It softened the lines of her face. Added a gleam to her eyes. Hit him somewhere in the vicinity of his left kidney.

The half smile hooked him, but a different emotion altogether reeled him in a few moments later.

Erica’s huge square-cut emerald flashed as she reached for her daughter’s hand. “But that disgusting person said he’d find a way to come to you, and prove how much he loved you.”

He’d said a lot more than that, Rafe guessed instantly, or Allie wouldn’t look away to hide the flicker of emotion that darkened her eyes. Rafe had been in the business long enough to recognize fear, no matter how well or how quickly hidden.

Dammit, he thought in disgust, why couldn’t she have remained just a beautiful face? Why did he have to catch a glimpse of a vulnerable, frightened woman behind that sophisticated facade? Allison Fortune he would have walked away from without a qualm. The woman who refused to let her family see her fear tugged at his professional instincts. He couldn’t help wondering what else she was hiding behind that glamorous front.

Okay, he rationalized, he could do this. He’d trained himself not to become emotionally involved with his clients. He could spend two weeks with Allison Fortune, shield her from this kook who got off by whispering obscenities over the phone, and pocket the outrageous fee her father offered. Assuming, of course, the lady agreed to protection…and to playing this particular game by his rules.

“Please, darling,” Erica pleaded, her voice breaking a little. “It’s bad enough we didn’t even know about this disgusting pervert until the police called here, asking to speak to you. Don’t make it worse by refusing our protection until they track him down.”

With a small sigh, Allie patted her mother’s hand. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about the calls. I just didn’t want to worry you. Or the rest of the family,” she added after a slight pause. “You’ve all had enough problems since Kate died.”

“Then you’ll agree to additional security?” Jake asked.

She slanted her father a cool glance, then turned those incredible eyes on Rafe. Strange, he’d never realized how changeable a color brown was before. In the space of a heartbeat, it could vary from deep, rich mocha to a flat, uninviting mud.

“I agree,” she said after a moment. “But with certain conditions.”

“I don’t operate with restrictions.”

“And I can’t operate without a certain regimen,” she returned. “I run every morning, and during a shoot I have to get at least eight hours of sleep a night. All I’m asking is that you structure your security procedures around my schedule, if possible.”

Rafe hadn’t seen the inside of a gym in years, and he’d never been much for jogging, but he figured he could keep his client covered during her morning jaunts. As for those eight hours a night in bed…

With some effort, he banished the combustible image of Allie Fortune all doe-eyed and sleep-soft. Telling himself he was ten kinds of a fool, Rafe agreed. Reluctantly.

“I think we can accommodate your schedule.”

She hesitated, obviously as unenthusiastic as he was about the next two weeks. “Then I’ll leave you to negotiate the terms of your contract with my father. If you decide to accept the job, I’ll meet you at the airport. We have a ten-o’clock flight to Santa Fe.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Erica said with a sigh of relief as her daughter brushed a kiss across her cheek and started for the door.

“Not quite,” Rafe drawled.

Allie paused with one hand on the doorknob.

“If I’m going to be responsible for your safety, Miss Fortune, I have a couple of conditions of my own.”

“Such as?”

“Such as no more strolls down to the lake—or anywhere else—unless I go along as a chaperon.”

After so many years in front of the camera, hiding her thoughts had become almost second nature to Allie. Her job was to project the emotions the photographer and art director wanted, not her own feelings. So she kept her expression carefully neutral while she debated whether to tell Rafe Stone to take a flying leap in the lake—or anywhere else.

As much as she wanted to put this man in his place, however, Allie had to admit the idea of a bodyguard had some merit. Although she routinely exercised basic security precautions against the weirdos who regularly fell in love with faces in magazines, these late-night calls had become too personal, too disturbing. She didn’t want this crazy to continue disrupting her life. Even more to the point, she didn’t want him to disrupt this shoot. Her older sister, her parents, her entire family, had staked everything on this campaign. Their tightly planned schedule allowed for minimal slippage.

Despite his brusque manner, or perhaps because of it, this Rafe Stone had routed Dean Hansen easily enough. He certainly looked as though he could take care of one obnoxious, if obsessive, fan. Besides, she’d only need his protection for two weeks. Three at most. Just while they were on location. The police had assured her the security at her New York condo was adequate. She could dispense with his services when they returned to the city for the final studio work.

Two weeks. She could put up with Rafe Stone’s constant presence for two weeks and still maintain the inner equilibrium.

Maybe.

“What’s your second condition?” she asked.

“If I perceive a threat to your safety, you follow my orders. All of them. Immediately. Without question.”

Allie wasn’t stupid. Nor was she foolhardy. In the event of a real threat, she’d be more than happy to let this man handle it.

“Agreed.”

Her acquiescence didn’t appear to afford him a great deal of pleasure. “I’ll pick you up at nine and take you to the airport,” he said brusquely.

“No further negotiations with my father, Mr. Stone?”

“No. And the name’s Rafe.”

She hesitated, then extended her hand. “I go by Allie.”

Her touch was warm and smooth and altogether too electric. Rafe curled his fingers around hers for the required few seconds. When she slid her hand out of his, her heat tingled against his palm, and he felt the damnedest urge to make a fist and trap it.

Two weeks, he told himself grimly. He’d spent almost that long on his belly in the dust, staking out a supposed terrorist hideout in southern Spain. If he could handle that band of inept would-be revolutionaries, he could handle himself around Allie Fortune.

Maybe.

By eight-thirty the next morning, Allie was having second, third and fourth thoughts. She’d spent a restless night, trying without notable success to adjust to the idea of Rafe Stone’s disturbing presence in her life. Her sleeplessness hadn’t been helped by her sister’s acid observation that she’d let Jake do it to her—again.