His Bodyguard by Lois Greiman Page B

she said.
    “Okay.” He reached for the cup.
    “Plug your nose.”
    “Huh?”
    “Plug your nose. Swallow it all.”
    “Got it,” he said, took the cup, downed the contents, then sat there with his eyes as big as dinosaur eggs as he gasped for breath.
    Brenna pried the cup from his fingers, then quickly stood and cleared a path to the bathroom.
    It took only a couple of seconds before he launched from the bed and sprang for the toilet
    Brenna turned her back and made faces at the wall as disgusting sounds echoed through the room. Finally, there was a lull, then the sound of running water and tooth-brushing.
    Nearly five minutes passed before Nathan emerged. He dragged himself to the bed, curled up on the mattress, and stared blankly at the wall. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
    Brenna stepped carefully closer. She’d learned early on that some people appreciated her cure more than others. “Me what?”
    “You sent the letters, didn’t you? You’re the one trying to kill me.”
    She laughed a little. “It’s not that bad. Really. You’ll feel better in a minute.”
    “I’ll be dead in a minute,” he croaked.
    Nervously, she sat back down on the mattress. “I wanted to apologize.”
    “So I really am going to die?”
    She smiled, knowing she shouldn’t sit so close. Knowing she was playing with fire and was fresh out of asbestos. “I, um…I think I was overzealous.”
    The room was silent.
    “At the gas station,” she added. “I shouldn’t have decked that guy.” She glanced at his muscular torso where his shirt flopped open, baring far too much skin for her to think properly. “I know you could have handled him. It’s just that…” She let out a breath. “Sometimes people don’t take me seriously. Y’ know…my being a bodyguard. It could be I’ve been trying too hard.”
    Nathan remained as he was for a moment, then reached up to gently brush his knuckles along her cheek. “Could be I’ve been acting like an ass,” he said, his voice a soft caress.
    Desire sparked through her. She looked away, trying to calm her hormones, but that was about as effective as a garden hose on an inferno. “I was thinking we could start over.”
    “Good idea,” he murmured.
    One kiss. Just one kiss, her mind whispered. She shushed the nasty little voice. “On a strictly professional basis.”
    He brushed the ridge of her lower lip with his thumb. A shiver ran through her, fine as gossamer.
    “Professional,” he whispered.
    “I’m, um…” She tried to keep breathing as his fingers skimmed her jaw then ran up the outer shell of her ear. “I’m your bodyguard.”
    “Right.”
    His hand slipped beneath her hair. Brenna closed her eyes to the delicious feelings.
    “We won’t let it be anything else,” she whispered.
    “Of course not” He gently urged her closer.
    She was breathing hard through her parted lips. “No matter how badly I want to.”
    “I want to, too,” he murmured, and she was lost His lips touched hers.
    “Fox.” Knuckles rapped on the door a moment before it was swung open.
    Brenna jumped like a cat from a skillet The cup flew outof her hand, bounced off the wall, and landed spinning on the carpet.
    “Whoa!” Fry said, his eyebrows out of sight
    “This isn’t…I didn’t…This isn’t what it seems,” Brenna stuttered.
    “Really?” If Fry’s grin got any bigger, his head would split wide open.
    “I just…Nathan needed…He wasn’t…” Brenna took a deep breath and momentarily wished she were dead. “I brought him some medicine.”
    “Really? You sick, Nate?”
    Nathan stared point blank at the fiddler. “Why are you here, Fry?”
    Surprisingly, his grin could get bigger. “Sarge says it’s time to hit the road.”
    “Oh, yeah. I’ll just…I’ll get my things,” Brenna said, and torpedoed from the room.
    T HE NEXT THREE DAYS PASSED in a blur of necessary activities. They were on the road for long hours, allowing Brenna to draw away from Fox’s side