3

Christian

Shortly after touching down in L.A., I visited an army friend's auto body shop.

He threw the keys at me as soon as I walked in. "I filled up the tank for you."

"Thanks, man." I inspected the large black SUV parked out front and ran my fingers along the tinted windows. "Completely bullet-proof like I asked?"

"Every inch of her," he said with a grin.

"Nice work."

"Yeah, I have a couple of customers that rent her out from time to time."

"I'm surprised you don't have more in this town."

He raised his eyebrow. "I was just being modest, my friend."

I chuckled and shook his hand before climbing into the vehicle.

I was familiar with the streets of L.A., having lived here for several years during my teens. As a military family, we moved around a lot.

The traffic was just as terrible as I remembered it. I tried to avoid rush hour, but in L.A. the smallest accident put rush hour in any other town to shame.

I checked my watch again and calculated how much time I had left to prepare Hailey's home. The three-hour time difference worked in my favor, having only lost two of the five flight hours. It was nearly six o'clock and only a couple of hours until sunset.

Ten minutes later, traffic lightened, and I exited the ramp toward the Hollywood Hills.

As I drove up the mountain, I couldn't help but glance over the horizon. The view from the mountainside was spectacular. Hundreds of homes were scattered across the hills and looked down at the vibrant city below. If the boys hadn't wanted to stay on the East Coast, I would have settled here. But they had become family and so New York was now home.

I pulled up in front of a black iron gate and pressed the white telecom button. "Yes?" a voice called from the other side.

"My name is Christian Machado and I'm Hailey's new bodyguard."

The camera beside the speaker whirled as it zoomed in on my face.

A few seconds later, the gate unlocked and opened wide.

I drove up the circular driveway and parked in front of the large double doors. Before I went inside, I walked around the perimeter of the house. There were mainly cacti and aloe vera plants around the sides, but as I turned into the backyard, there were more colorful flowers and bushes surrounding a fenced-off pool.

There was a guest house back here, and I checked if the door was locked. It wasn't, and I made a note to discuss this with the house staff. Anyone could hide inside there.

Once I ensured the guest house was empty, I walked across the patio to the other side of the house. There were more plants and shrubs here, too.

Everything appeared to be in order, so I walked up to the front door and knocked.

Anne answered the door wearing a flowery blue summer dress and wedge sandals. "Hi, Christian. So glad to see you. I'm already impressed at how thorough you've been."

She ushered me inside and my eyes scanned the place. There was a large marble foyer in the center of the home, with a staircase leading to the second floor behind it. A large piano sat on the right side with white couches around it, and on the opposite side was another seating area with a bar and bookshelves. Those rooms comprised most of the main floor that I could see besides the windows facing the pool at the back of the house.

It was a nice house. A little smaller than some other celebrity homes I'd been in, but I liked her style: modern, clean lines, and no clutter. It reminded me of home. When I was a kid, my father insisted I made my bed every morning before school, even if he was away on tour.

"Is there anything I can do to help you set up?" asked Mrs. Jones. "Can I show you around the place?"

I shook my head. "I'd like to take my time and inspect everything if that's ok. I won't go into any dressers or drawers, but I will enter all the rooms."

"Yes, that's fine. Is there anything else you'd like to see?" she asked.

"No. I think that's everything for now. I'm going to set up some new cameras, not in any bedrooms or bathrooms, but I noticed some missing in corners of the home near windows."

"Oh," she looked around as though they would magically appear. "Well, that's great. I'll leave you to it. I'll text you in the morning when we're on our way back from the hospital. "

"Before you leave, which room will be mine?"

"Oh, well, the last guy stayed in the guest house. He preferred his privacy."

I smiled. "I don't. I prefer my client to be safe. Is there an extra bedroom close to Hailey's?"

She watched me and perhaps wondered if I had nefarious intentions. I did not. This was strictly business.

After a quick smile, she waved to follow her. "You can take this one," she said, pointing to a room on the opposite side of the staircase. Well, that wasn't a good idea. "Thanks." I would have to discuss switching bedrooms closer to an exit with Hailey in the morning.

"Well, good night."

"Good night, Mrs. Jones. I'll see you tomorrow."

She smiled and leaned in for a hug. Her hands stayed on my biceps. "Oh, well, um, you are definitely equipped for the job."

I cleared my throat, and she smiled again. "Right, sorry. I'll be leaving now."

I watched her leave and exhaled when she finally shut the door behind her.

I inhaled deeply with my hands on my hips, surveying the house around me, and exhaled a determined breath.

Right. Let's get to work.

***

Standing on an aluminum ladder I found in the garage, I mounted the last camera in Hailey's home. It was dark now, but I'd finished the outside cameras a couple of hours ago. I climbed down and walked around the house one last time, scrutinizing my work. There were cameras in every corner of the main floor and the patio outside. I added three-and-a-half-inch screws to the hinges of all the doors, preventing anyone from easily kicking them open.

After putting the ladder back inside the garage, I lingered to inspect her cars. There was a shiny red sports car beside a white Mercedes SUV. I opened the door to the Mercedes, and it was immaculately kept, with no crumbs, dust or so much as a strand of hair to be seen.

The red car was clean as well, but there was a lip gloss inside the cup holder and a hair elastic alongside it. This must be her car, or at least the one she drove herself. I smiled, once again liking her taste.

My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since this morning. I thought about making myself some eggs, but then I'd have to clean the dishes and I was too exhausted to do that. So, I ordered a pizza instead and asked the delivery person to bring it to the back door so I could test the new cameras in the backyard.

They worked beautifully. After eating my pizza, I checked my watch. It was almost midnight L.A. time, three o'clock in the morning in New York, and I was beat. I dragged my feet up the staircase and threw my suit jacket on an upholstered chair. Dropping on top of the bed, I fell into a deep sleep immediately.

What felt like only a few minutes later, a sound startled me awake. My dry eyes shot open, and I listened for it again. It was a rustling sound from downstairs, perhaps a door opening. I cursed myself for not having unpacked my gun. It was still in the suitcase downstairs. But I knew if I could sneak up on the guy, I could wrestle one off of him. Someone turned on a light downstairs and I crept toward the door. As soon as I stuck my head out, the light turned off.

Had someone seen me?

Light footsteps crept up the staircase, which I would not have heard if it wasn't for the wood creaking. This guy was light on his feet. He was probably trying to sneak up on me. I retreated into the room and waited for him to come to me. I was ready.

But when a shadow walked past the bedroom door, I wondered if I'd been wrong. Maybe he hadn't seen me. Well, it didn't matter. He had his back to me now, and he was mine.

I jumped out into the hallway and wrapped my arm around his neck and stomach, pulling him against me.

My mind registered the slight figure in my grasp, and the smell of vanilla perfume, but my body wouldn't let go.

The intruder was a woman.

She wore black tights with a black sweater, and her baseball cap was pulled down low to cover most of her face.

I squeezed tighter. "What do you want with Hailey?" I growled in her ear.

She struggled to answer my question and scratched my forearm with her long nails. I realized my arm was pressing too tightly against her windpipe, so I eased up.

She inhaled a desperate breath, her chest heaving, and her breasts pressed softly against my skin.

"I—I—"

I shook her for stalling. "Out with it. Who are you?" I shouted.

She dug her nails into my arms, and I ground my teeth, biting back the pain.

Then she sneered, "I. Am. Hailey. You idiot."

I immediately released her, and she fell to the ground on all fours. Her baseball hat tumbled in front of her. Waves of long auburn hair tumbled down, shielding her face from me.

She remained like that for a few minutes, breathing heavily in and out. I dropped to the ground beside her, finally recognizing her. "Are you all right?"

I remembered her injury and touched the back of her right shoulder. A thick swab of cotton stuck out from her black T-shirt. I pressed my finger on top of it and exhaled when it felt dry.

She pulled away. "Get your hands off of me, you, you psychopath."

She backed away, crawling with her hands and knees on the floor. "Get out before I call the cops." Her voice cracked on a sob and I realized belatedly that I hadn't properly introduced myself.

I put my hands up. "Hailey, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to protect you. I'm your new bodyguard."

She stopped crawling and looked up at me. Her green eyes shone through the darkness. "What?"

I nodded.

"Then why the hell did you attack me?" She had a raspy voice that hit low but strong.

"Because I thought you were an intruder. I'm sorry about the misunderstanding, but your mother said you wouldn't be back at the house until morning. I wasn't expecting you."

"Well, I didn't realize I needed to announce my arrival at my own house." She struggled to get up, wincing when she put weight on her right hand to steady herself.

I gently put my arm underneath her knees and neck and held her gaze, asking for permission. She stared back, her green eyes narrowing in the dark. She nodded, and I immediately lifted her off the ground.

I carried her to her bedroom and slowly lowered her onto the bed. She wet her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged. "It's the least I could do under the circumstances."

She smiled wryly. She couldn't have been taller than five foot six, but she had long legs, which made her appear a lot taller, even as she lay helplessly on the bed.

She cleared her throat. "You can leave now. I'm going to rest. Fighting off an attacker makes me tired."

Her lips twitched, and my chest loosened. I appreciated her humor. She could fire me here and now for that mishap, but it seemed for now she'd allow me to stay.

As I walked down the hallway toward my room, I felt my pulse racing through my body. It could be from the struggle earlier, but I worried it had more to do with the beautiful woman lying on that bed.

I shook my head, tossing the thought away. I could appreciate her beauty and still work for her. I was a man, not a beast. My mother raised me with manners and respect for women. No, my pulse was racing from adrenaline. It was stupid to think—even for a moment—that it was anything more than that.