CHAPTER 6
Beau stared up into Aurelie’s eyes.
He’d tried to shift her off his engorged cock. Tried to control his baser instincts, but the woman had made him crazy with lust when she’d been lying on the bed above him.
Perched on top of him, her sex pressing against his boner, he couldn’t think with the head on his shoulders when all the blood shot south to the head of his dick.
He drew in a deep, steadying breath and let it out before saying, “Let me get this straight...” His cock strained against the clothing between him and her sex. “Are you saying you want me to...touch you?” He held his breath, his body wanting her to say Hell yeah, while what was left of his functioning brain cells warned him that making love to her was a bad idea.
She didn’t know he was her bodyguard. He worked for her father. It wasn’t in the Brotherhood Protector’s handbook, not that there was one, but he was pretty certain fucking the client was against the rules.
Aurelie shrugged. “It crossed my mind.”
Whoa. Beau’s mind exploded with flashing red lights and a screeching warning system. Put on the brakes. Abort mission.
She hadn’t said yes.
He sat up, lifting her off him at the same time and setting her to the side.
“Wait,” she said. “What did I say?”
He pushed to his feet. “It’s what you didn’t say,” he murmured. Beau gathered the comforter and the pillow and stepped past Aurelie, where she sat on the floor, frowning up at him.
“But—” She pushed to her knees.
“Goodnight, Miss Anderson.” He practically raced for the door, grabbed the knob and twisted. When it didn’t open, he remembered he’d engaged the deadbolt. He flipped the lever, yanked open the door and bolted through. “Lock the door,” he threw over his shoulder, refusing to look back at the woman who had his cock so hard he was sure he’d be awake all night with blue balls.
Better that than to make love to the pretty client with hair he’d run his fingers through. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed her when she’d fallen asleep while he’d smoothed out her tangles. Since kissing her on the dance floor, he couldn’t resist kissing her again.
Kissing was relatively harmless.
Making love to her took harmless to an entirely different level. Her father, the senator, might sic his lawyers on him for breach of contract or whatever he could get to stick. He’d have him up on some felony charges for taking advantage of his daughter.
Her father wasn’t the worst of it. He couldn’t make love to Aurelie. Most likely, she’d be angry when she found out he wasn’t just a guy who’d randomly followed her out onto that boardwalk. She’d be livid when she discovered he hadn’t been completely truthful with her.
No woman loved a liar.
He could argue that he hadn’t actually lied to her.
She wouldn’t buy it. Lying by omission was still lying.
He tossed the comforter on the hallway floor, dropped the pillow on top of it and paced. He was too wound up to sleep and too hard to sit.
Part of him wanted Aurelie to open the door and beg him to come back in, to take her into his arms and screw the rules, screw the truth and screw her.
What he wanted to do warred with what he knew was the right thing to do.
For the love of gumbo, he had sisters. He’d kill a man who took advantage of one of his sisters by leaving out a key piece of information that would help her decide whether he was honorable or a low-life scumbag unworthy of her trust.
Beau wished he hadn’t agreed to keep the nature of his assignment a secret from Aurelie. Then again, if she’d known he was a paid employee of her father’s, she would have had nothing to do with him other than letting him do his job.
They could have avoided this awkward exchange entirely. She’d have been happy to sleep in his room with him out in the hallway, to begin with. He wouldn’t be pacing that hallway with a hard-on so hard he could drive nails with it.
By the twentieth pass going end to end in the hallway, his pulse had almost returned to normal.
Aurelie hadn’t opened the door, for which Beau was both thankful and disappointed. It was just as well. His cock was not nearly as hard. He was able to sit on the comforter with his back to the wall without any discomfort, but sleep eluded him until the wee hours of the morning.
He must have nodded off at some point.
The sound of a door’s hinges creaking jerked Beau awake. He was on his feet in a flash, his focus on the door behind which Aurelie Anderson slept.
Only the door that opened wasn’t his, but another further down the hall, past Romeo’s.
Valentin Vachon emerged dressed in a tank top, jogging shorts and running shoes. When he spotted Beau, he frowned. “Lock yourself out?”
Beau shook his head. “On guard duty,” he whispered.
Valentin’s eyes widened. “I thought I heard something last night.”
“Yeah,” Beau said. “We came in near midnight.”
“I had my noise-canceling earbuds in, listening to white noise. Whoever said living in the country was quiet and peaceful didn’t live in southern Louisiana. The damned frogs, crickets and cicadas are every bit as loud as traffic on the LA freeways.”
Beau grinned. “True. Good thing I prefer it to traffic.”
“I take it you ran into trouble last night.”
Beau nodded. “She was attacked at the fundraiser, and her house was ransacked. I had to find a safe place to stash her until I can arrange for a safe house.”
Valentin nodded. “I’m headed out for my morning run. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
“Thanks.”
“If you need backup, you have my number.”
Beau didn’t tell his teammate he didn’t have a working cell phone. He’d have to remedy that situation soon. “What time is it?”
Valentin checked his watch as he passed Beau in the corridor. “Six-thirty. See ya.” The man descended the stairs, quietly exiting the building.
Six-thirty. His mother would be awake by now. She’d know where he could find a place he and Aurelie could hole up in until they got a handle on who was after her. He’d call his mother, but he didn’t have a phone that worked.
The metal-on-metal sound of a lock disengaging brought his attention to the door in front of him.
The knob turned, and the door opened.
Aurelie peeked out, her hair in disarray, her face flushed from sleep and sexy as hell. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he echoed. “Did you get some sleep?”
“Some.” She pushed a hand through her thick black hair.
Her movements stretched the T-shirt across her unbound breasts, making Beau want to back her into the room, close the door and weave his hands through the tresses while he made crazy love to her. Keeping his hands off her was going to be one of the toughest tasks he’d ever imagined.
“Hungry?” he asked.
Her gaze met his, her eyelids at half-mast. “Mmm,” she murmured, the sound low and gravely.
“I know where we can get a home-cooked breakfast.”
She looked down at her outfit and shook her head. “Will they let me through the door dressed like this?”
He grinned. “Absolutely.”
“I need to brush my teeth, comb my hair and put on my boots.” She opened the door wider. “You need to use the facilities?”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
She stepped aside, allowing him to enter.
“I’d put on the costume I wore last night, but I’m sure it’s still wet and smells like the bayou. I rinsed it out when I showered, but it really needs to be thrown in the washing machine with detergent.”
“We’ll work on getting you something to wear today,” he said.
She frowned. “You really don’t have to do everything for me. Just because you saved me from drowning doesn’t mean you have to be my permanent guardian angel. I can find a way to get back to my car.”
“Come to think of it, where is your car?” he asked. “It wasn’t at your house.”
She shook her head. “No. I met my father at his home in Baton Rouge to help him get ready for the masquerade party. I’d planned on staying the night with him since we’d be getting back so late.” Aurelie grimaced. “I’ll need to get a driver to take me all the way to Baton Rouge to get my car. I can’t keep taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not.” Beau shook his head. “I can’t bring myself to walk away from you,” he said. “For some reason we don’t yet understand, you have a target hanging on your back. I don’t feel comfortable abandoning you until we figure out who’s gunning for you.”
“You wouldn’t be abandoning me,” she said. “You’re not responsible for me. I can take care of myself.”
“Obviously,” Beau snorted. “When were you planning on coming up for air in the bayou? About the time that alligator reached you?”
Her brow furrowed. “I would’ve found the surface...” With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she sighed. “Okay. So, I might not have made it out before the alligator got to me. You saved my life, and I probably wouldn’t be here arguing with you had you not.” She spread her hands out to her sides. “I don’t want to be a burden on you. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time—like working or finding a job now that you’re out of the military.” She paused. “How long have you been out?”
“A couple of years,” he answered automatically.
Her brow twisted. “And you haven’t found work yet?”
“I went to work for a while in a security firm providing protection for general contractors working in Afghanistan until our country pulled the plug on our presence there.”
“Wow.” She shook her head. “Isn’t that like mercenary work?”
“Some call it that,” he admitted. “We were there to protect, not to engage unless we had to.”
He edged toward the bathroom, afraid she’d ask more questions, and he’d eventually have to lie or tell her the truth. He’d rather avoid doing either until her father broke it to her that he was being paid to take care of her. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. I’m going to shave and change. I’ll only be a few minutes, and then you can have the bathroom to yourself.”
“Let me grab my things. I can do most everything out here.” She ducked into the bathroom and emerged with her bra, her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “All yours.”
He nodded, making a mental note to find her some clothes or go by her house after the sheriff’s department had dusted for prints. She didn’t look like the type of woman who liked running around in public wearing a faded T-shirt and men’s shorts, though she looked sexy in them. With her trim figure, long dark hair and deep brown eyes, she’d look good in a paper bag.
He dragged his gaze from her, grabbed a clean pair of jeans from the closet and ducked into the bathroom, silently reminding himself of his responsibility.
She’s the job.
Focus.
Beau pulled on the jeans and splashed water on his face and hair. After he combed his hair, he shaved and brushed his teeth and was back out in less than five minutes.
Aurelie sat on the side of the bed, dragging the brush through her hair.
He took the brush out of her hand.
She sighed and turned her back. “My hair is so thick that if I don’t have a good conditioner, it takes forever to work out the tangles.”
Beau worked through the tangles quickly, afraid if he lingered, he’d end up like he had the previous night, wanting more than to smooth the tangles from her hair. Within a couple of minutes, he finished and handed the brush to her. “We’ll find some conditioner for you today.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I could get used to having you around.”
He’d like to be around under different circumstances, perhaps when he wasn’t pretending to be some random guy who’d just happened to save her life.
Aurelie rose from the bed and hurried to the bathroom. “I just have to brush my teeth, and I’ll be ready.” When her stomach rumbled, she laughed and pressed a hand to her middle. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought. I look forward to that home-cooked meal.”
“Then hurry up. I’m starving.” He didn’t bother to tell her where they were going for breakfast.
She left the bathroom door open as she squeezed toothpaste onto a toothbrush and turned on the water in the sink. “I have some at my house. I hope they process for fingerprints early so I can get back in there and assess the damage this morning.”
“We can check with the sheriff after breakfast.” Beau found a clean black T-shirt in one of his drawers and pulled it over his head, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans. “We also need to get new cell phones. It might mean heading into New Orleans for that.” He grabbed socks and found a pair of black combat boots in the closet.
Aurelie emerged from the bathroom as Beau pulled his boots over the socks.
“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed a pair of your socks,” she said. “My boots aren’t quite dry, but the socks help.”
“I’m glad you found some.” He pulled on the second boot and stood. “If you need anything else, help yourself or ask, and I’ll see if I can find something that will work.”
“Do you have a belt I could use?” she asked.
“I do.” He reached into the closet and pulled out the two belts he owned. One was brown leather, the other black. “Your choice.”
She chose the brown leather and slipped it around her waist, cinching his oversized T-shirt, making it fit like a stylish tunic. The shirt was long enough it almost covered the gym shorts. With the boots she’d worn for her Amelia Earhart costume, she looked like a runway model.
Beau shook his head. “You could wear a paper bag and make it look like a designer piece.”
She laughed. “Sometimes, all it takes is accessories. I didn’t want to look like a bag lady. I appreciate the T-shirt loaner, but it’s so big, I’m almost lost in it.” She patted the belt. “This helps tremendously. Thank you for all of it.”
“Glad I could help,” he said as he slid the black belt through the loops on his jeans and buckled it. “Ready?”
She nodded and walked ahead of him to the door.
“Let me go first.” Beau opened the door and stepped out into the hall. When he was certain no one was lurking, waiting to strike, he held out his hand to Aurelie.
She placed her hand in his and allowed him to draw her across the threshold. They left the boarding house, climbed into his truck and headed for breakfast.
When Beau pulled up to a home on the edge of Bayou Mambaloa, Aurelie frowned. “This isn’t a restaurant.”
He shifted into park. “Did I say I was taking you to a restaurant?”
Her forehead wrinkled as she reluctantly released her seatbelt. “You said you were taking me to breakfast.”
“And I am.” Beau pushed open his door and dropped to the ground. He rounded the front of the truck as Aurelie slowly opened the door.
He stared up at her. “Are you coming in with me?”
She waved a hand toward the house. “This is someone’s home.”
“Yes, it is.” He reached for her, wrapping his hands around her waist, pulled her from her seat and set her on the ground.
Her frown deepened. “You can’t just barge into someone’s home without giving them some kind of heads-up.”
“Don’t worry, I know the cook.” He grinned. “She won’t mind.”
“Even if she’s family, you still need to warn her that you’re coming and bringing a guest,” Aurelie protested as he marched her up the steps of the front porch.
“I couldn’t. Remember?” He opened the front door and held it for her. “Our cell phones aren’t working.”
Aurelie refused to step through the door. “I can’t go in uninvited.”
Beau shrugged, leaned into the house and shouted, “Hey, Mom, I brought a guest for breakfast!”
A petite woman with sandy-blond hair, much like his, appeared from around a corner. “Beau, honey, is dat you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took Aurelie’s hand and drew her across the threshold. “This is Aurelie Anderson. We’ve come for breakfast.”
“Perfect,” she said with a wide smile. “Come on in. I made plenty of scrambled eggs, pancakes and bacon to go around,” she said in her charming Cajun accent. She came forward, wiping her hands on her apron. “Aurelie, so very nice to meet you. I’m Helen Boyette, Beau’s maman.”
As Aurelie shook his mother’s hand, she shot a glare at Beau. “Your mother?”
He nodded. “I told you I was taking you to a place where you could get the best breakfast in the parish.”
His mother swatted his arm. “Oh, stop.” She hooked her arm through Aurelie’s. “Come in. Come in. We’re in da kitchen, and I’m probably burning something. I love da outfit. You’ll have to tell me where you got it. Do you t’ink it would look good on an over-forty-year-old like dis maman?”
“I’m sure it would look great on you.” Aurelie let Helen lead her away.
“I love da way you accessorized it,” his mother said.
Beau followed the two women, shaking his head. His mother didn’t know a stranger. Everyone she met was family to her. Their house was where every kid in the parish came to hang out.
The noise level increased with every step as they neared the kitchen.
When Aurelie stepped through the door, it was as if someone had switched off the radio.
For all of a split second.
Then the noise resumed, with everyone talking at once.
“It’s a bit loud dis morning.” His mother raised her voice to talk above the din. “Dis is Aurelie, Beau’s girl.”
Aurelie started to shake her head, but Helen Boyette wasn’t finished with her introductions. “Sebastian,” the older woman said, her forehead wrinkling, “what number are you?”
Beau’s brother, dressed in a polo shirt and tan slacks, stepped forward. “Five, Maman. Don’t you know your own children?”
“Oui, mon cher. I changed your diapers like the rest of dem.” She patted his cheek and turned to Aurelie. “He’s in from Memphis for the weekend.” She leaned toward Aurelie and whispered loudly, “He’s a big-shot financial advisor dere.”
Beau’s brother frowned. “Maman. I’m not a big-shot.” Sebastian held out his hand to Aurelie. “My mother is biased,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Aurelie.”
Aurelie smiled up at Beau’s younger, better-looking brother.
Beau’s gut pinched hard. With what?
Jealousy?
He shifted from one foot to the other, studying Sebastian. When had his little brother become so tall and handsome?
Aurelie looked from Sebastian to Beau. “You look so much alike. You could be twins.”
Beau and Sebastian shook their heads.
“No,” Sebastian said. “I look nothing like my older brother. My hair is darker like most of my brothers and sisters.”
“We’re nothing alike,” Beau said, though he wished he was a little more like Sebastian and content to work behind a desk. There were so many more jobs for men who didn’t mind being in an office all day.
Beau couldn’t do it. Thankfully, after the U.S. pulled out of Afghanistan and Beau, with his team of mercenaries, were out of work, Hank Patterson had offered them jobs.
Again, Beau’s mother leaned close to Aurelie. “We t’ought maybe da nurses switched babies at da hospital when Beau turned out to be a tow-headed little boy.” She grinned. “Den, along came baby Elise, our golden-haired angel. Both children were t'rowbacks to my great-grandmother Lanier, an English beauty wit’ golden-blond hair.” She ruffled Elise’s blond curls.
“Maman, please.” Beau’s youngest sister swatted at her mother’s hand. She’d been a baby when Beau had joined the Army. He’d done his best to keep in touch with all his siblings when he’d been deployed to other sides of the earth. He’d loved getting Elise’s letters, detailing the antics of Jacque, Genevive and Marcel, the kids closest to Elise’s age. Now, they were all teenagers.
Where had the time gone?
His mother continued her introductions as she crossed the kitchen and took the spatula from Genevieve’s hand. “The boy with the scar across his temple is Theo,” Beau’s mother said. She dug the spatula into the skillet, moving it around to dislodge the eggs adhering to the metal. “He got that scar swatting at an alligator with his paddle.”
“Wow.” Aurelie looked at Theo, wide-eyed. “Did the alligator bite you?”
“No,” Elise answered for Theo. “He made it mad enough the alligator bumped his pirogue. He flung the paddle in the air and banged his own head with it. All because he wanted to impress Angie Wallace.”
Theo laughed. “How do you know all that? You were only five years old when that happened.”
Elise rolled her eyes as only a sassy thirteen-year-old could. “I’ve heard the story so many times I know it by heart.” She snorted. “Boys are so stupid when it comes to girls. You were no exception.”
Theo held out his hand. “I’m number six.”
Aurelie smiled and shook his hand.
Knowing his mother would take forever to introduce the rest of his siblings currently present, Beau took over. He pointed to the sullen, dark-haired nineteen-year-old brother seated at the kitchen table. “Marcel is number seven. He’s nineteen and going to diesel mechanic school in Thibodeaux.”
Marcel raised a hand. “Hey.”
Aurelie nodded. “Hey.”
Beau nodded to his pretty seventeen-year-old sister. “That’s Genevieve. She’s in high school and our most studious sibling, well on her way to becoming the class valedictorian.”
Genevieve smiled from her post at the toaster. “Nice to meet you, Aurelie.”
Aurelie smiled in return. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“The dude manning the waffle iron is my youngest brother, Jacque. Also in high school.”
“Not on the fast path to class president,” Elise said.
“More likely on the fast path to get a girl pregnant,” Marcel murmured.
“Marcel!” Beau’s mother held up her spatula. “We have company.”
“And what? Don’t let her know how we really are when it’s just family?” Marcel said. “Shouldn’t we be ourselves and let her know what she’s getting into if she takes up with Beau?”
His mother glared at him. “You shouldn’t be so sassy to anyone. Especially not your family. You’re supposed to love family, not pick on dem.”
Beau turned to Aurelie. “Just another day in the Boyette family.”
She smiled at the people in the kitchen. “It’s wonderful. I love that you’re all comfortable enough to pick on each other. At least you have each other.”
“Do you not pick at your siblings, Aurelie?” Beau’s mother asked.
Aurelie shook her head.
“Maman,” Beau said. “Aurelie is an only child.”
His mother frowned. “An only child? I’m so sorry. Was it lonely growing up?”
Aurelie smiled. “You don’t miss what you never had. But I always wished I had a brother or sister.”
“And we have enough to share,” Elise said.
“Yes, you do,” Aurelie said. “You’re very fortunate.”
Jacque ruffled Elise’s hair. “Did you hear that? You’re very fortunate to have me as your brother.”
Elise slapped at Jacque’s hand. “She has no idea how much of a pain it can be havin’ multiple siblings.”
“Maman,” Beau cut through the teasing. “Are you still doing your real estate sales?”
“Oui, mon cher,” she said as she scraped the scrambled eggs into a large serving dish. “Why? Are you ready to settle down in your own home?”
“Maybe,” Beau hedged. “Miss Anderson needs a place to stay for a day or two where she won’t be bothered.”
Beau’s mother had just lifted the big serving bowl of fluffy-yellow eggs. “I just listed Robbie Pearson’s place yesterday.”
“I thought Robbie Pearson died,” Beau said.
“He did, but he left a fully furnished cottage on de other side of Bayou Mambaloa. His children all live in other cities. They want me to sell da cottage so they can split da proceeds.”
“Fully furnished?” Beau asked.
“Yes,” his mother said. “Older furniture, quite dated. Da good thing is dat Robbie was meticulous about his home. He kept it clean and neat. Not a lot of personal belongings to sort t’rough.” She set the bowl of eggs on the table. “T’inkin’ of buyin’ a house? You know I’d love to have all my children livin’ close.”
Beau shook his head, hating the disappointment obvious on his mother’s sad frown. “Miss Anderson needs a safe place to stay out of the public eye for a few days to a couple weeks, max.”
“If you want somet’ing not too close to other houses and ready to use immediately, Mr. Pearson’s home would be da place. I can ask da family members if they’d be willing to rent for a few weeks. Dey might be more willing if you promise to help organize and categorize items for an estate sale or donation to da local women’s shelter thrift store.”
“I don’t mind doing some work to help out,” Aurelie said.
“Then I’ll call dem now,” Beau’s mother said with a smile. She laid the platter of scrambled eggs on the table. “Sit. Eat,” she ordered and dug her cell phone out of her apron pocket. “Excuse me for a few.”
Beau held a chair out for Aurelie.
As she sat, she murmured for his ears only, “I could go stay with my father.”
“He’s busy campaigning,” Beau whispered. “His home would be the next place they’ll look to find you.”
A moment later, his mother returned to the kitchen. “Robbie’s daughter said you can rent by the month for the cost of sortin’ t’rough his things and gettin' dem donated.” She grinned. “If you need help, I can send Jacque, Genevieve and Elise over.”
Aurelie smiled at Beau’s mother. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll do what I can, but I might not be there long.”
“Thank you, Maman,” Beau said. “We’ll be sure to leave it clean.”
His mother’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ll be staying dere, too?”
“I assume it has more than one bedroom?” Beau asked.
She nodded. “What about your room at da boarding house?”
“It’ll keep. It’s just until Aurelie can have some renovations done to her house in Bayou Miste.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed. “Is dere anything else you want to tell me?”
He stiffened. “No, Maman.”
“Ha!” Elise said. “Which translates to, Not with big ears listenin’ in.”
Beau cocked an eyebrow at his little sister. “When did you get to be such a smart Alec?”
“Maman said I take after you,” she said with a smirk.
Beau grinned, glad he’d come to breakfast at home. They had a safe house.
Now to get Aurelie there and start figuring out who was after her.