The Doctor's Defender (Protection Specialists Book 3) by Terri Reed Page A

eyes studying her.
    “What?” she asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
    He reached out, but when his hand neared her face, she drew back slightly.
    “You have a little gunpowder on your cheek,” he said.
    Feeling foolish, she froze. The rough pad of his finger brushed across her cheek and lingered, sending little tingles shooting through her like Fourth of July sparklers.
    Reflexively her hand came up to wipe at the spot. Their fingers collided.
    He drew his hand back and placed it on the steering wheel. She rubbed her fingers together.
    Up ahead she saw a big one-stop-shopping superstore. “I’d like to stop there,” she said, pointing.
    Kyle parked the SUV in a spot near the side of the
supersize grocery store’s side entrance. When Kyle picked up a small carry basket, she shook her head and grabbed a cart. They’d eaten most of Felicia’s stew last night and her food this morning. Brenda filled the cart with supplies for three.
    Kyle didn’t comment on her purchases, even when she grabbed a one-pound bag of peanut M&M’s. If she had to be in seclusion, she was going to have some comfort foods available. Peanut M&M’s, mac and cheese, tomato soup and toaster pops. These were the things that would make life bearable over the next few days.
    “You sure you haven’t forgotten anything?” Kyle asked, eyeing her cart.
    “I think I’m ready to check out.” She pushed her cart toward the cash register and got in line.
    The man in front of her glanced back and then spun around. “Brenda, what a surprise seeing you here.”
    Brenda blinked. Wariness had her muscles tightening. Kyle stepped closer, their shoulders touching, his hand settling possessively at the small of her back. She was startled by the contact as well as how nice it felt, right up until he slipped a finger into her belt loop—
undoubtedly so he could jerk her back out of harm’s way if need be. She glanced at him. His strong jaw was set in a firm line, his narrowed-eye gaze trained on the man waiting expectantly for her to respond.
    White teeth gleamed against the guy’s tan skin. He had light brown hair and brown eyes and wore a polo shirt, white shorts and deck shoes. She tried to place the face. Dredge up a name. But couldn’t. Could he be the one trying to kill her? She scooted even closer to Kyle and tried for a polite smile, but she was sure it looked more like a grimace. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
    “Roger Harmon. We met at your parents’ home last winter,” he said, his initial enthusiasm dimming slightly. “I called you several times but could never reach you.”
    Ah. Now she remembered. Sunday night fix-up. Roger was a dentist, divorced and belonged to her father’s yacht club. She relaxed slightly. There was a reason she didn’t have an answering machine at her apartment. She didn’t want to be obligated to return calls from men her parents set her up with. The answering service at the hospital knew to pass on only legitimate patient calls.
    Silence stretched out. She’d been raised to be polite, so she asked, “What brings you to Winthrop Harbor?”
    “Sailing tomorrow in a distance race,” he said. “Will you be racing?”
    Yearning hit her like a rogue wave. She wanted to be out on the water. “No. No racing this weekend.”
    “The weatherman says this will be the last good weekend for a while,” Roger commented.
    “I wish you well in your race, then,” Brenda said.
    “Sir?” the grocery clerk called.
    “It was nice seeing you again,” Roger said and moved forward to buy his groceries.
    Brenda could feel Kyle’s gaze on her as they waited for Roger to finish his purchases and head out the store door. When Brenda went to hand the clerk the money, Kyle covered her hand with his, halting her midair.
    “Let me,” he said, handing over a credit card.
    “You don’t have to do that,” she said, frowning at him. She was pretty sure buying groceries wasn’t in his job description.
    “It will be in my