Bodyguard Under the Mistletoe by Cassie Miles Page B

glanced toward Jesse, then back at her mother. She seemed unconvinced. “What if you can’t find it? What if you need me and Mickey to find the secret place?”
    Did she know about the ransom? A chill crept up Fiona’s spine. She hated to think of her daughter being connected in any way to these horrible crimes. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
    Mickey whinnied and pawed the air with his hands.
    â€œGot to run,” Abby said. “Run like the wind.”
    As her daughter galloped down the hall with Mickey at her side, Fiona rose slowly. “She knows something.”
    â€œShe does,” Jesse agreed. “Mickey, too.”
    Abby had immediately mentioned a secret hiding place. Usually, she and Mickey were outside, racing around. It was entirely possible that they’d discovered many things that Fiona knew nothing about, including some kind of hidey-hole.
    Convincing her daughter to open up wouldn’t be easy. Abby could be intensely stubborn.
    â€œI’ll talk to her,” Jesse offered.
    She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Why would she tell you if she won’t talk to me?”
    â€œYou’re her mother. Abby’s secret might get her in trouble with you, and she doesn’t want that. On the other hand, I’m just some guy who gave her a turquoise stone. No threat.”
    Fiona certainly didn’t see him as nonthreatening. The way he’d manhandled Nate in the front yard had been quick, efficient and a little bit scary.
    And there was an even greater threat. Jesse knew how to shatter the wall she’d built around her heart to protect herself. When he looked at her with those deep-set eyes, she had the urge to unburden all the thoughts and emotions she usually held back. Within an hour of meeting him, she’d confided details about her financial situation that shehadn’t told anyone else. Last night, they were even more intimate. After knowing him for less than a day, she’d been kissing him. Oh, yes, he was dangerous. A huge threat to her self-control.
    But she was certain that he didn’t mean to hurt her or her daughter.
    â€œGo ahead and talk to Abby.” She turned to Wentworth. “So, Your Royal Highness, how about a cup of coffee?”
    â€œIf you’re buying, I’m drinking.”
    He followed her into the kitchen, removed his crown and sat in the same chair he’d used for breakfast. He rested his elbows on the tabletop as she poured two cups. Remembering that he took his with milk and sugar, she placed both on the table within easy reach.
    â€œHave the kids been driving you crazy?” she asked.
    â€œPlaying king is a whole lot more fun than hanging around in the hospital waiting for Jesse to wake up.”
    â€œHe seems to be recovering quickly.”
    Wentworth stirred the milk into his coffee. “It takes more than dying to keep Jesse down.”
    She didn’t like to think of Jesse dying, being summoned to the hereafter by his grandfather. After one sip of coffee, she set her mug down on the table. “If you don’t mind, I should get these dishes done before it’s time to make lunch.”
    They’d never installed a dishwasher at the cabin. Though they had a good well, water was a precious commodity in the Colorado mountains, and she tried to practice conservation, teaching Abby about the three R s. Reduce. Reuse. Recycle.
    One half of the double sink filled with sudsy water. The other half was for rinsing.
    â€œHow long have you been working for Jesse?” she asked.
    â€œAlmost five years. And I’ve known him since highschool in Denver. He was a couple of years older and didn’t pay much attention to me back then. I was friends with his younger sister, Elena.”
    â€œThe office manager for Longbridge Security,” she recalled. “Is she like Jesse?”
    â€œOh, yeah. She’s tough, and she’s smart. Went to law school and passed the