thought of being vulnerable in the sense of taking an emotional risk. It was something she had painstakingly corrected after years of being far too unprotected, too honest and too hopeful of finding love, first from a father who had deserted her, then from a husband who had used her. Now, just as she had been congratulating herself on having built strong, secure walls around her emotions, she was confronted with a whole new kind of danger. This time it was a very real and physical danger. All the emotional barricades in the world couldn't protect her from crazy lunatics and kidnappers. Or, apparently, from the man assigned to protect her from such people.
"Who's going to protect me from my bodyguard?" she asked caustically when he refused to respond to her previous remark.
She sensed a tightening in him, a controlled violence that made itself felt in the small confines of the car. "You have nothing to fear from me, Sabrina."
"After what just happened? That"s a joke!"
"Nothing happened except that you got a hell of a scare. In another few minutes you'll be home, safe and sound in your own bed."
"What are you going to do? Stand watch in front of my door all night long?" she grumbled.
"Something like that." Was that a trace of humor underlying his words?
His response brought her sharply around in the seat "Oh, no, Jake Devlin! Enough is enough. You're not going to spend the night marching up and down in the corridor outside my apartment What would the neighbors think?" she demanded, appalled at the image.
He shot her a half-curious glance and then brought his gaze carefully back to the street in front of him. "Don't worry. I won't be standing guard in the corridor tonight"
"Then where will you be?" she snapped, not trusting him an inch now.
"How long is your couch?" he countered mildly.
"My couch! You think I'm going to let you sleep on my couch?" she blazed.
"Sabrina, I don't think you quite understand what having a bodyguard entails," he began carefully, as if to someone who was not overly bright. "I need to be within shouting distance of you all the time. That's what I'm being paid to do. For tonight that means bunking down in your living room or a spare bedroom if you've got one.
Do you?"
"No, I do not!"
"Then that leaves me with the couch, doesn't it? Unless, of course, you want to take the couch and give me your bed?"
Sabrina, who had been half-expecting some provocative remark about sharing her bed with him, privately gave him credit for resisting the temptation to make such a crack. In spite of the fiasco this evening, she was beginning to get the feeling that her new bodyguard took his work seriously. Professionalism on any level was something she could respect. Up to a point.
"You're sure this is how it's done? Guarding someone, I mean," she asked suspiciously, peering across at his profile.
"It's how I'm going to do it," he answered with a negligent shrug.
Sabrina slouched down in her seat, folding her arms across her breasts and contemplating the city lights around her. "This," she announced finally, "could be the longest two weeks of my life."
She could feel him withdrawing, retreating behind a determinedly polite facade. "I'll try not to ruin the Hawaiian trip for you," Jake muttered softly.
For some crazy reason Sabrina almost felt like apologizing. Which was utterly ridiculous under the circumstances. "About what happened tonight. . ." she made herself say breezily.
"Yes?" he prompted cautiously, sliding a quick glance across at her.
"I'll get even, you know. Sooner or later, I'll get even for that stunt you pulled." She made it a throwaway line, a light remark which might have been taken as teasing or smiling bravado or a firm promise. She'd let him make of it what he would.
"Thank you for the warning," Jake drawled. "I'll be prepared."
But the real meaning behind the casual threat, of course, was that she was acquiescing to her plight. Sabrina recognized that fact for what it was and had
"Who's going to protect me from my bodyguard?" she asked caustically when he refused to respond to her previous remark.
She sensed a tightening in him, a controlled violence that made itself felt in the small confines of the car. "You have nothing to fear from me, Sabrina."
"After what just happened? That"s a joke!"
"Nothing happened except that you got a hell of a scare. In another few minutes you'll be home, safe and sound in your own bed."
"What are you going to do? Stand watch in front of my door all night long?" she grumbled.
"Something like that." Was that a trace of humor underlying his words?
His response brought her sharply around in the seat "Oh, no, Jake Devlin! Enough is enough. You're not going to spend the night marching up and down in the corridor outside my apartment What would the neighbors think?" she demanded, appalled at the image.
He shot her a half-curious glance and then brought his gaze carefully back to the street in front of him. "Don't worry. I won't be standing guard in the corridor tonight"
"Then where will you be?" she snapped, not trusting him an inch now.
"How long is your couch?" he countered mildly.
"My couch! You think I'm going to let you sleep on my couch?" she blazed.
"Sabrina, I don't think you quite understand what having a bodyguard entails," he began carefully, as if to someone who was not overly bright. "I need to be within shouting distance of you all the time. That's what I'm being paid to do. For tonight that means bunking down in your living room or a spare bedroom if you've got one.
Do you?"
"No, I do not!"
"Then that leaves me with the couch, doesn't it? Unless, of course, you want to take the couch and give me your bed?"
Sabrina, who had been half-expecting some provocative remark about sharing her bed with him, privately gave him credit for resisting the temptation to make such a crack. In spite of the fiasco this evening, she was beginning to get the feeling that her new bodyguard took his work seriously. Professionalism on any level was something she could respect. Up to a point.
"You're sure this is how it's done? Guarding someone, I mean," she asked suspiciously, peering across at his profile.
"It's how I'm going to do it," he answered with a negligent shrug.
Sabrina slouched down in her seat, folding her arms across her breasts and contemplating the city lights around her. "This," she announced finally, "could be the longest two weeks of my life."
She could feel him withdrawing, retreating behind a determinedly polite facade. "I'll try not to ruin the Hawaiian trip for you," Jake muttered softly.
For some crazy reason Sabrina almost felt like apologizing. Which was utterly ridiculous under the circumstances. "About what happened tonight. . ." she made herself say breezily.
"Yes?" he prompted cautiously, sliding a quick glance across at her.
"I'll get even, you know. Sooner or later, I'll get even for that stunt you pulled." She made it a throwaway line, a light remark which might have been taken as teasing or smiling bravado or a firm promise. She'd let him make of it what he would.
"Thank you for the warning," Jake drawled. "I'll be prepared."
But the real meaning behind the casual threat, of course, was that she was acquiescing to her plight. Sabrina recognized that fact for what it was and had
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