Single Mum's Bodyguard

Nightmares?

What the hell had Lars been talking about? Dane didn’t have nightmares. Sure, sometimes he woke up in a cold sweat with his heart pounding so hard it felt like his ribs might break.

But he was never able to remember what he’d been dreaming about, or if he’d been dreaming at all. He’d probably just been reliving some of those missions. Or maybe even things that had happened before that.

Like identifying his adoptive parents’ bodies in the morgue after the terrible car accident that had ended their lives. He’d barely been eighteen at the time.

He hadn’t thought about that in years, until that day he’d gone to the morgue to identify Emilia Ecklund’s body.

But it hadn’t been Emilia’s. Just as he had that night, he expelled another ragged breath of relief that it hadn’t been her. He had been relieved for Lars. His friend had already been in agony worrying about her. If he’d lost her forever...

Lars would have never forgiven himself.

But Dane had also been relieved for himself. He’d wanted to meet the young woman whose photo he’d been using as the screen saver on his cell phone. Of course he’d only been doing that so he would recognize the person for whom he’d been looking. Once she’d been found, he’d deleted it...

As his screen saver.

And yet he hadn’t been able to force himself to send her photo to his recycle folder. He still had it on his phone—in its photo album.

Even though he’d seen her that day, looking beautiful in that pale blue dress that matched her eyes, he needed to see her again. So he reached out in the darkness, fumbling around for the cell sitting on the crate next to his king-size bed. Usually he loved having the extra space to sprawl out, like he hadn’t been able to sprawl out all those months spent sleeping on cots. If they were lucky, they’d had cots. Sometimes they’d just had a hard floor or dirt.

Tonight his bed felt especially empty. He felt alone like he hadn’t since he was kid. But he knew now that it was better to be alone like he’d been back then—with nobody to worry about, nobody to care about...

He’d already spent too much time worrying about Emilia Ecklund. Now he was worried again, especially after the newly engaged Nikki Payne had caught him alone.

Her concern furrowing her usually smooth forehead, she’d said, “Something’s going on with Emilia.”

“I know,” Dane had readily agreed. “Lars is worried, too.”

“Should we be worried?” she’d asked.

He’d shrugged then because he wasn’t certain. Maybe she hadn’t seen anything outside that window. Maybe she’d only banged into that doorframe like she’d told her brother because it had been dark and she’d been tired.

Nikki had told him about the other things—about her slipping up on her job—a job in which she had seemed to be taking pride. He doubted she would have messed that up purposely.

What the hell was going on with her?

He’d followed her when she’d left the chapel. He’d made certain she’d gotten safely inside her house with her son. But then he’d forced himself to drive away. She was fine.

Wasn’t she?

He needed to see that picture. Not that seeing her smiling face would make him feel any better. It usually made him feel worse, made his pulse quicken and his heart flip. But he didn’t pull his hand away; he kept reaching for his phone. His fingers skimmed over cold metal, his gun. He always had it within reach, which had saved his life more than once.

That weapon wouldn’t save him from Emilia, though. But how dangerous could she be?

She was his friend’s sister. And unlike Lars, that meant something to Dane. That meant she was off limits.

And she had a baby.

Dane had no intention of being a father to anyone. He wouldn’t make the mistake his adoptive father had. He wouldn’t take on a responsibility he really didn’t want. He wouldn’t do to a kid what had been done to him.

No. Emilia Ecklund was no danger to him. But was she in danger?

The crate began to vibrate beneath his phone, and he finally found it. His screen lit up with the photo he had of her—because she was calling him. Lars had put her number in Dane’s phone—just like he’d put his in her phone—in case she ever needed help and Lars wasn’t available.

Feeling like he’d been sucker punched, he expelled a gasp of air. Then he pushed the button. “Hello?”

“Dane?” she asked in a raspy whisper.

A chill raced down his spine. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I think someone’s in the house,” she whispered, her voice cracking with fear. “I heard the door open...”

He shivered again but kicked off the sheet that had tangled around his body. “I’m on my way,” he promised. “Stay on the phone with me.”

But the line clicked. Maybe she’d just been afraid that the intruder would hear her. Or maybe the intruder had already found her.

When he arrived at her house, Dane couldn’t find her. Not that many minutes had passed since she’d called, but she was gone.

Maybe someone had dragged her through the front door that stood open. Or maybe she was hiding somewhere.

He hoped like hell she was hiding.

“Emilia...” he called out softly, not wanting to alert her intruder to his presence. But was his voice too low for her to hear him?

Because she did not answer.

He hoped that was only because she hadn’t heard him. But as he stepped inside the house, a strange sensation passed through him. Maybe he was having one of Penny Payne’s premonitions.

Because instinct warned him something bad had happened or was about to happen.

To him...

Emilia might not have heard him. But perhaps her intruder had.

* * *

For the second time that day, Penny stared at her reflection in a mirror. The first time she’d wanted to look beautiful. This time she wanted to look sexy.

A breeze fluttered through the white curtains, making them billow around the window. It carried the scent of hibiscus and the sea. While Woodrow had left it to her to plan their wedding, he’d taken charge of the honeymoon.

He’d found a beautiful beach house on a nearly deserted island. There were some other inhabitants, but she hadn’t noticed them. She wasn’t aware of anyone but her handsome groom. He was so tall. So fit. With short graying hair and kind, blue eyes. Not a bright blue like the Paynes’, but a deep, soulful blue.

Woodrow had stepped outside for a few minutes. To give her time to get ready for their wedding night... But probably also to make a call. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself from checking in with Nicholas Payne, from making sure his friend and former employee was managing the River City Police Department in the new chief’s absence.

Penny had no desire to make calls. She had no desire for anyone but Woodrow. In the mirror, she could see how her face was flushed, her eyes bright.

Maybe that was embarrassment, though. She wore white now, a thin silk gown that skimmed her curves while leaving her shoulders bare. Would Woodrow find it sexy or ridiculous?