Colton's Secret Bodyguard

Getting ahead of yourself, Bennet.

Why would Bree, who could have any man she wanted, choose the one who had already proven himself unworthy of her? The answer was simple. She wouldn’t.

* * *

When Bree opened her eyes, it was light. Morning. She knew it happened every day, but she couldn’t help wishing it wouldn’t.

As she came fully awake, she became aware of something hard jammed into the small of her back. It felt a lot like a dog’s neck cone. Turning slowly, she discovered that both Rylan and Jekyll were still sound asleep. One of them was stretched diagonally across the middle of the bed, while the other was clinging precariously to one edge.

Biting back a smile, she returned the dog to his bed, then slipped back beneath the warm bed covers. As she did, Rylan murmured contentedly, and rolled over.

Now that was a view that could make a night owl start liking mornings.

Wishing she could reach out a hand and touch him, she studied the planes and angles of his face. There were times when his features could appear harsh, but that, like the serious look in his eyes, was an expression he’d cultivated. When he was relaxed, as he was now, the perfection of his face shone through.

Sitting up, she reached into the drawer of the bedside table and withdrew her artist’s pad and pencils.

Before long, she was lost in her sketch, following the river of her creativity from the initial line through to the finished picture. Nothing quite matched the joy she got from the interaction with a piece of art. It was like a magic trick. Just her and the sketch. The details, the flourishes, the emphases... They belonged to her. No one else would capture it in the same way.

The image was influenced by what she knew of Rylan. The real Rylan. She didn’t draw the man the world saw. She drew the man who rescued troubled and injured animals. The one who offered to protect a woman he didn’t know pro bono because she was his friend’s cousin. The one who slept in her bed because she was afraid to be alone.

When she’d finished, she viewed the picture with a critical eye. It wasn’t perfect. Because his face was squished into the pillow, some of the perspective was wrong. But she liked it. It was him. The Rylan she knew.

As she returned the pad to the drawer, she noticed a text message lighting up the screen of her cell. If she converted it to speech, she’d risk waking Rylan.

Sliding from the bed, she pulled on a sweater and warm socks before taking her cell phone through to the kitchen. Jekyll opened one eye, yawned, stretched and followed her.

The message was from Kasey.

Can you call me? Not urgent. Not really. Only a little bit. Nothing to worry about.

Bree checked the time. Almost seven thirty in the morning. She knew Kasey left for the gallery most mornings at eight o’clock.

Kasey answered the call almost immediately. “Hey, boss lady. How are you? I’ve been worried about you after what happened at the show.”

“I’m fine.” Bree switched on the coffee machine. “It just seemed like a good time to take a break and do some painting. Is everything okay at the gallery?”

“Everything has been great, but the reason I got in touch was that there was a problem yesterday with water leaking from your apartment. It was dripping through the ceiling of the corridor between our offices. David went up to your apartment and found out the problem was a pipe under the sink in your kitchen—”

“David went up to my apartment?” Bree interjected, her voice high-pitched with surprise. “How did he do that?”

“He used the keys you gave me.” Kasey sounded worried. “I hope that was okay?”

Of course. How could she have forgotten about the spare set of keys she’d given Kasey a few months ago? Audrey had booked herself and Bree into the spa at The Chateau for an overnight stay, but Bree had been expecting a furniture delivery. The following day, when Kasey had offered to give the keys back, Bree had suggested it might be a good idea for her assistant to keep them in a safe place in her office.

How safe was safe?

“Anyway... David stopped the leak temporarily, but he thinks the pipe needs to be replaced by a professional. I wanted to check with you and see if you want me to call a plumber?”

“Uh, yes. Of course.”