Twelve Days of Pleasure by Deborah Fletcher Mello

Consider your
job
done well.”
    * * *
    Kendrick watched as she stomped off in a huff, disappearing down the sandy trail toward the larger pools on the other side. He tossed a quick look to Liam, who’d appeared out of nowhere, pointing after the woman.
    â€œI’m on it, boss,” his associate said with a soft chuckle. “And I thought you had a way with women,” he added jokingly.
    So did I,
Kendrick thought as he tossed up his hands.
So did I.
    * * *
    She was angry and even as she fought back her tears all she wanted to do was rage.
His job.
She was nothing more than his job. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Dropping down onto one of the lounge chairs by the large pools she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. She didn’t have any reason to be angry and she knew it. She knew that Kendrick wasn’t there because they were a couple on holiday. He wasn’t there because he cared about her and she cared about him. There was only one reason he was there and it had everything to do with his J-O-B.
    Kendrick was there to guard her. To keep her safe until she could be the perfect witness. Whether she wanted to be or not. She was his assignment, not his girlfriend. His chore, not his wife. She was even beginning to think that they weren’t even friends and she had truly believed there was friendship blooming between them. She swiped at the tears that still misted her eyes.
    And then she was angry all over again. He’d been nice to her and she’d believed he liked her. She had let down her guard and had told him about Jarrod and the disaster that had been their relationship. She had revealed her deepest hurt and had allowed herself to be vulnerable just for him to remind her that he was on duty and nothing more.
    â€œExcuse me, madam,” a familiar voice said, interrupting her thoughts.
    She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. “What do you want, Liam?”
    â€œI was just checking that you were okay. I wanted to make sure you weren’t cut on the broken glass back on the patio.”
    She shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you.”
    â€œIs there anything I can get for you, madam?”
    â€œNo. I just want to be left alone, please.”
    â€œYes, madam.”
    Vanessa tossed one more look over her shoulder to see him as Liam moved back toward the bungalow she was sharing with Kendrick. There was definitely something about that man that made her uncomfortable. But clearly it wasn’t Kendrick’s
job
to figure out why.
    Â 

Chapter 8
    I t was Thanksgiving Day. Vanessa had barely spoken two words to him since blowing up days earlier. She’d taken all of her meals in her room, locking him out. As he’d returned to the bungalow from his run she’d been headed to the pool, brushing past him without saying a thing. She’d spoken to Liam more than him and Kendrick had just about had enough. He had never known any woman to hold a grudge for so long. Take that back.
His sisters could hold a grudge for that long,
Kendrick thought to himself.
    He shook his head at the absurdity. But it was Thanksgiving Day and they were not going to spend the holiday at odds with each other. He knocked on the bedroom door. “Vanessa, open up!” When there was no response he knocked a second time. “Open the door, Vanessa, or I’m going to take it off the hinges.”
    Seconds later he heard her moving on the other side as she stomped across the floor. She swung the door open, eyeing him warily. “What do you want?”
    â€œGet dressed. We’re eating in the dining room tonight,” he said.
    Her gaze narrowed. “I’m not eating anywhere with you, Agent Boudreaux,” she snapped as she moved to close the door in his face.
    * * *
    She took a quick step back as Kendrick pushed the door open with a wide palm. He took two steps and was standing directly in front of her, his index