Chapter 8
The hotel in Tucson was clean and comfortable.
Rhys had managed to secure adjacent rooms for them, although this time there was no connecting door.
The thought of not being able to call on her bodyguard without the rest of the world—metaphorically speaking—knowing left her strangely disappointed. She didn’t want to acknowledge why.
“Are you okay?”
The quiet question jolted Taylor out of her confusing thoughts. “Excuse me?”
Rhys had deposited his bag on the floor; his free was hand poised to open the door to what was going to be her room for the night. He’d insisted on carrying both her bag and his—again. “You look a little distracted. Everything okay?”
Shoving aside her turbulent thoughts, she shook her head. “No. I mean, yes.” She sighed. “It’s nothing. I guess I’m tired.”
A pathetic excuse if ever there was one. Five hours or so of traveling as a passenger—including a generous lunch stop—was hardly an exhausting activity. She still felt utterly drained.
“Let’s get you settled in.”
After scanning the hall for any signs of trouble, he pushed the door open and led the way in, ensuring there was no danger awaiting them, before beckoning to her to join him.
Although she wasn’t hungry yet, Taylor was curious about what he had planned for dinner. “Does this hotel do room service?”
Rhys strode to the side table and opened the information folder. “Yes, we’re in luck. When you’re ready to order, let me know what you’d like and I’ll call it in.”
“Thanks.”
She couldn’t fault him for courtesy and consideration. While they might not have gotten on with each other when he’d first arrived at Honey Fields, this trip had already changed the dynamic between them. She had the strongest feeling the change would prove to be permanent.
“Okay.” He hoisted his bag to his shoulder. “If you need me for anything, call me or text me, and I’ll come to you. I might be being overcautious, but I don’t want you to be in the corridor alone. I doubt anything would happen, but I’m not taking any chances.”
On one level, he probably was being overcautious, but given what Nick had said about KDT having access to all kinds of technology, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Thanks. See you later, then.”
When the door closed behind him, Taylor let out a long sigh.
Curiously unsettled, she crossed the room to the window.
The view was less than spectacular, and the thought of staring at it while drinking her first cup of coffee of the day in the morning made her soul ache for her cabin at the ranch.
There, she could just walk out of the door, breathe in the fresh morning air, and enjoy all the colors of a Texas sunrise.
She might not be a native of the state, but it was where her heart belonged.
The room service menu was a little uninspiring, but after she’d messaged Rhys with her choices—for dinner and breakfast—she freshened up with a very welcome shower.
With not a lot else to do, Taylor decided to relax on the bed to play a couple of games on her phone.
It was only when her phone buzzed and vibrated that she realized she’d fallen asleep.
The buzz heralded a message from Rhys.
Food’s here. Will bring yours around.
Even though she was expecting it, the knock on the door spooked her as much as the message alert had. When she opened the door, she almost swallowed her tongue. Why did the man have to look so…. edible?
He offered her the covered plate. “Yours, I believe?”
“Actually…”
The word barely made it out of her mouth—her voice sounded so rusty, half of it disappeared. She cleared her throat. “Actually, would you mind if I join you? If… we had dinner together? Again?”
Of all the expressions she might have imagined he’d adopt, a slow smile of genuine pleasure wasn’t high on the list. Reality was vastly different from imagination.
“Sure. Don’t forget your key card.”
She followed him into his room, where his meal was still sitting on the cart. As in her room, there was a small table by the window, with two chairs.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Rhys said. “I’ll bring everything over.”
Unable to help herself, Taylor feasted on the spectacle before her.
The man moved with the elegant, lithe grace of a prowling jungle cat.
There was no doubting his physical fitness, and he sure was easy on the eyes.
Not so easy on the lady parts, though—he was enough to send hers into a hormonal frenzy of lust.
Man, had she been in denial.
At the last moment, before he turned back to her, she hurriedly schooled her features back to an expression that betrayed nothing of her thoughts—she hoped.
The cart and contents were close enough for her to reach for the flatware, intending to set the cutlery out on the table for both of them. She was stopped in her tracks by a look—complete with the now-familiar raised eyebrow—that could only be interpreted as a non-physical slap on the wrist.
“My job,” he told her, by way of explanation.
“Really? Bodyguards do that stuff?”
“Never assume anything is as it seems. We’re trained to operate in multiple social environments.”
“Multiple social environments? What does that mean?”
“It means there can be vast differences in the circles in which your principal moves. Providing close protection for an internationally famous rock star who wants to pay an incognito visit to their favorite burger place might be broadly similar in nature to providing the same for royalty attending a formal banquet, but worlds away when it comes to the… social requirements.”
“You’ve been a royal bodyguard?” Taylor asked, wide-eyed.
“On occasion.” His attitude was almost dismissive.
“Analyze, adapt and overcome applies to contexts other than war. It also helps you think on your feet when the threat to your principal does materialize. Complacency is a luxury no close protection operative can afford.” He placed her cutlery to the side of her plate.
“Not even in a context where the threat might be considered minimal. Depending on what our adversaries want from you, in the worst case, it could cost you your freedom or your life. Neither is a price I’m willing to pay. ”
A shiver went through Taylor’s whole body. Was it his words? His tone? Or the way his steady gaze held hers, piercing her heart with its open sincerity? She couldn’t be sure.
“That’s good to know.” She smiled. “Why don’t we eat before the food gets cold?”
“Sounds good to me.”
They chatted a little over dinner, mostly about the final leg of their journey. The conversation was surprisingly easy, and as the evening went on, Taylor decided it was time she stopped being surprised by how pleasant he was.
Oh, who was she kidding? “Pleasant” was a bland excuse for the words she really wanted to use about him. “Fascinating” was one. “Sexy” was another. “Attractive” didn’t do him justice, yet “handsome” was too soft and pretty to describe him accurately.
It was just as well they finished eating before her ovaries went into overdrive.
“That was delicious.” Taylor piled up the dishes and was about to return them to the cart when Rhys took them from her.
“Let me. Then I’ll accompany you back to your room.”
The statement of intent stung, but she tried to make a joke of it. “Trying to get rid of me so soon?”
He stopped in his tracks and looked directly at her. “You want to stay a while?”
The blunt question stripped her bare. She knew it was only because of the track her thoughts had taken over dinner, and he couldn’t possibly know what had been on her mind. She managed an awkward smile. “Sorry. Bad attempt at a joke.” She faked a yawn. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
Rhys nodded, seemingly accepting of her feeble excuse. “In that case, the sooner you get to bed, the better.”
Taylor’s breath hitched. An image exploded in her mind, one that had nothing to do with being escorted back to her room and everything to do with getting him into her bed.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine, thanks,” she stammered, hoping with all her heart her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Shall we go?”
Probably a good idea. With all the stress of recent days, such random, erratic thoughts as sharing a bed with Rhys shouldn’t have been surprising.
Erratic? Sure you don’t mean erotic?
Oh, that was all she needed, a little voice at the back of her mind planting suggestions that would only create even more trouble.
Seconds later, they were standing at the door to her room. Rhys plucked the key card from her fingers, unlocked the door, and held it open for her. She stepped inside and turned to face him.
“Make sure you lock it, and don’t open it to anyone who isn’t me.” He pointed to the door viewer. “If in doubt about anything, call me.”
“Understood. And… thank you. I… I really enjoyed tonight.”
“My pleasure.”
The smile he gave her was warm and genuine… and rocked her to the core. At this rate, she’d need all her self-control not to make an almighty fool of herself before things got back to normal.
Are you sure it’s not already too late for that?
“Sleep well, Taylor, and I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, his voice quiet and low, with the Welsh lilt even more apparent. “And make sure?—”
“To lock the door. I remember,” she laughed, trying to hide any hint of the riot going on inside her. “Good night, Rhys.”
And with that, she closed the door and locked it, before she could give in to the rogue impulse to kiss him.
However, with the barrier of the door for protection, she couldn’t resist a peek through the peephole. She expected to see him leaving, if he hadn’t already vanished from sight, but was startled to see him standing there, apparently deep in thought as he contemplated the door.
Then his gaze locked onto the peephole.