Bodyguards In Bed

She hoped.

He must’ve agreed with her, because he was over the fence in seconds flat. He eyed the dog suspiciously. “We have to hurry,” he said.

She led him to a shed in the far corner of her neighbor’s yard. Behind the shed were stacked wooden crates, which she climbed in order to scale the cinderblock fence. She went first, caught the bags as he tossed them over, then he followed her.

For the next twenty minutes, she led him through a maze of backyards; they scaled fences and alleyways. She was hot and sweaty, and her feet were killing her by the time they finally emerged on a busy street, half a block from a bus stop.

“I think we lost them,” she said as she plopped down on the bench to wait for the bus that would take them to Hawthorne. From there they could catch another bus through Lawndale to Manhattan Beach.

Barely winded, he sat next to her and tucked the bags near their feet. His hair was mussed and his tie askew, but other than a smudge on the knee of his pants, he still looked fabulous. She, on the other hand, was positive she resembled something dear old Phoebe might dig up in the yard.

“You were right,” he said, a hint of admiration lacing his tone. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be.” She grabbed hold of his wrist and held his watch up so she could read the time. “Bus should be here any minute.”

His luscious green eyes narrowed slightly. “And you know this because . . . ?”wid>

She managed a tired smile. “Because I’ve lived here all my life.”

She’d surprised him. She could tell by the lifting of his right eyebrow.

He leaned forward to unzip a side pocket on the garment bag, then reached in and retrieved a small bottle of water. “Ladies first,” he said, twisting off the cap for her.

She took the bottle. “Thanks,” she said, then took a nice long drink. The water was lukewarm, but she didn’t care. Wet was wet, no matter the temperature.

After she swiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she handed him the bottle and asked, “Now, would you mind telling me exactly who the hell you are?”

CHAPTER 4

Noah didn’t know which surprised him more—the overwhelming urge to tell Alyssa the truth, or how easily he could’ve disregarded a direct order. He didn’t break rules. Ever. He followed them, to the letter. His job was to enforce the rules and bring those who broke them to justice. A job that suited his personality to perfection.

As for telling Alyssa the truth, he suspected that impulse came from the fact that he was inherently honest. One reason why he’d never make it as an undercover operative. His conscience would kill him.

Stalling for time, he took a long pull on the lukewarm bottle of water, then offered it to her again. “More?”

She kept looking at him, waiting, her big blue eyes filled with questions she hadn’t yet asked. “Thanks, I’m good,” she said. “You haven’t answered my question.”

He tucked the water bottle back into the zippered compartment in his garment bag. “Yeah, about that—”

“Oh, good.” she interrupted and stood. “Here’s our ride.”

Saved by the exhaust fumes, he thought, as the large Rapid Transit District bus rolled to a stop in front of them. Lugging both of their bags, he followed her on board and paid the fare. He was so thoroughly distracted by the sway of her hips as she walked in front of him down the center aisle, he lost his footing and tripped. He mumbled an apology to the owner of excessively large gym shoes, a lanky teenager with a buzz cut, wearing a California State University at Long Beach T-shirt.

Alyssa took a seat halfway down the bus and scooted close to the window to give him room to sit beside her. He slid in next to her and settled their bags at their feet, but not before he gave the floor a quick inspection for gum or the sticky remnants of some kid’s lost piece of candy.

“We should’ve gotten a rental car,” he said quietly.

He hadn’t used public transportation in years, not since he’d gotten his driver’s license at the age of sixteen. He’d hated it then and now, fourteen years later, his opinion hadn’t changed.

“The closest rental car office is about ten miles away,” she told him. “We’re good. I promise, we’ll be on the beach before sunset.”

Sunset? That was over five hours away. If they rented a vehicle, he suspected they could be there in a lot less time. “Picking us up is pa

rt of the service, you know.”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. He was beginning to think she might be on to something. In fact, he knew the exact moment he had lost his mind—the instant he’d grabbed Alyssa’s hand and pically dragged her from the airport. From that moment on, his testosterone levels were rising at a rate that made him ache—for her.

Nothing was making sense to him. For a guy who liked order in all things, the chaos must be making him edgy. Or maybe that was his libido at work. All he knew was that Alyssa made him want to say screw the rules and jump in with both feet. Lifelong experience told him that just wasn’t a good idea.