“Nobody is going to harm you, Sara.”
Sara looked at him, and, although her face was pale, a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “You’re just one man. Even with your background, what can you do if someone as powerful as Edwin Zachary wants to get rid of me?”
He allowed himself a smug smile. “You’d be surprised.” Seeing her uncertainty, he sobered. “You’ll have to trust me. I will protect you, even with my body if necessary.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why are you doing this for me? You don’t even know me. I’m pretty sure you don’t even like me very much.”
Rafe couldn’t tell her why he viewed journalists with suspicion without admitting to his role in the rescue of the aid workers. “Let’s just say I have a mistrust of journalists.” He let his gaze drift deliberately over her features. “Especially pretty ones. As long as you’re not trying to interview me, I like you just fine.”
He watched as color seeped back into her face and she reached blindly for her beer, taking a hefty swig before setting the bottle back down with a thump.
“Well, don’t forget those men saw you, too. They saw you sitting with me at the café and they saw you kiss me. They probably already know who you are. Maybe they think we’re romantically involved.” She cast a wild look around his townhouse. “What if they’ve already surrounded the place, and are just waiting to make their move?”
Rafe frowned, realizing she was teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack. Moving quickly, he crouched in front of her and took her hands in his. Her fingers were cold, and he rubbed them between his hands. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”
She did, her eyes dark with whatever imagined horrors were going through her head.
“Nothing is going to happen. If they’ve figured out who I am, then they know better than to come after me. Especially in my own home.”
“What if we go to the police?” she asked hopefully, ignoring his words. “They could help us.”
“If their intent really is to kill you, then you’d be dead before you reached the station,” Rafe replied flatly. “And our only proof is initials in a book. Our best bet right now is to stick together and figure out a way to make you more valuable to them alive. But nothing is going to happen to you while I’m here. Okay?”
Sara nodded and dropped her gaze to where he still held her hands. She’d relaxed fractionally and when she spoke, her voice had lost some of its tight anxiety.
“Okay. But I still don’t understand why you’re doing this. I’m not your responsibility and I’m sure you have better things to do than act as my bodyguard, especially considering you’re supposed to be on leave right now. You know, rest and relaxation?”
Up close, he could see her eyes weren’t a pure blue, but a mixture of blues and grays, ringed in black and startlingly vivid in her pale face. Aside from her mouth, they had been the first thing he’d noticed about her. Rafe thought he could easily spend hours staring at her eyes, and wondered how many other men had fallen under their spell. Sara seemed to have little idea of just how stunning she was. She wore almost no cosmetics and did nothing to draw attention to her unusual features, or her curvy figure. In fact, she seemed out of place in a city as sophisticated as Washington, D.C..
Then Rafe remembered Ann Lonquist had been sweet and pretty, too. Or so he’d thought. She’d completely duped him with her damsel-in-distress act, and, while Sara Sinclair might not bear a strong physical resemblance to Ann, there was no denying the similarities between the two women. Dragging his gaze from her, he stood up and turned away, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. He’d made a mistake in getting involved with Sara, but he’d never been able to walk away from an unfair fight, and there was no way Sara could handle this particular battle on her own. Whether he liked it or not,
Sara looked at him, and, although her face was pale, a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “You’re just one man. Even with your background, what can you do if someone as powerful as Edwin Zachary wants to get rid of me?”
He allowed himself a smug smile. “You’d be surprised.” Seeing her uncertainty, he sobered. “You’ll have to trust me. I will protect you, even with my body if necessary.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why are you doing this for me? You don’t even know me. I’m pretty sure you don’t even like me very much.”
Rafe couldn’t tell her why he viewed journalists with suspicion without admitting to his role in the rescue of the aid workers. “Let’s just say I have a mistrust of journalists.” He let his gaze drift deliberately over her features. “Especially pretty ones. As long as you’re not trying to interview me, I like you just fine.”
He watched as color seeped back into her face and she reached blindly for her beer, taking a hefty swig before setting the bottle back down with a thump.
“Well, don’t forget those men saw you, too. They saw you sitting with me at the café and they saw you kiss me. They probably already know who you are. Maybe they think we’re romantically involved.” She cast a wild look around his townhouse. “What if they’ve already surrounded the place, and are just waiting to make their move?”
Rafe frowned, realizing she was teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack. Moving quickly, he crouched in front of her and took her hands in his. Her fingers were cold, and he rubbed them between his hands. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”
She did, her eyes dark with whatever imagined horrors were going through her head.
“Nothing is going to happen. If they’ve figured out who I am, then they know better than to come after me. Especially in my own home.”
“What if we go to the police?” she asked hopefully, ignoring his words. “They could help us.”
“If their intent really is to kill you, then you’d be dead before you reached the station,” Rafe replied flatly. “And our only proof is initials in a book. Our best bet right now is to stick together and figure out a way to make you more valuable to them alive. But nothing is going to happen to you while I’m here. Okay?”
Sara nodded and dropped her gaze to where he still held her hands. She’d relaxed fractionally and when she spoke, her voice had lost some of its tight anxiety.
“Okay. But I still don’t understand why you’re doing this. I’m not your responsibility and I’m sure you have better things to do than act as my bodyguard, especially considering you’re supposed to be on leave right now. You know, rest and relaxation?”
Up close, he could see her eyes weren’t a pure blue, but a mixture of blues and grays, ringed in black and startlingly vivid in her pale face. Aside from her mouth, they had been the first thing he’d noticed about her. Rafe thought he could easily spend hours staring at her eyes, and wondered how many other men had fallen under their spell. Sara seemed to have little idea of just how stunning she was. She wore almost no cosmetics and did nothing to draw attention to her unusual features, or her curvy figure. In fact, she seemed out of place in a city as sophisticated as Washington, D.C..
Then Rafe remembered Ann Lonquist had been sweet and pretty, too. Or so he’d thought. She’d completely duped him with her damsel-in-distress act, and, while Sara Sinclair might not bear a strong physical resemblance to Ann, there was no denying the similarities between the two women. Dragging his gaze from her, he stood up and turned away, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. He’d made a mistake in getting involved with Sara, but he’d never been able to walk away from an unfair fight, and there was no way Sara could handle this particular battle on her own. Whether he liked it or not,
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