The Heiress and The Bodyguard

“What?”

“Whatever. And you say it kind of like you’re growling, like this— ‘Whatever.’”

Billy looked at the face she was pulling, at the way she wrinkled her nose and drew her eyebrows together fiercely. She was completely unselfconscious, oblivious to the disarming expression on her face, doing her very best to imitate a growl. A little blond pit bull in this instance, just another side of her personality to add to the fascinating repertoire.

He couldn’t help himself. He turned his attention back to the road, smiling just a little. No, this was bad…he couldn’t afford to lose his perspective. Never mix business with pleasure…or anything else, for that matter. She was business. Business, business, business.

His smile grew to an irrepressible grin, despite the lecture he was delivering to himself. He allowed himself a quick look, his eyes following the line of her cheekbone, the soft curves of her parted mouth. She had no idea he was staring. She had no idea how her hair drank in light, didn’t realize how lush and ripe her baby-bowed mouth seemed to him. She even smelled like an unfamiliar delicacy, the fragrance subtle, lingering in the close confines of the car like music. Billy’s blood was zinging through his veins like 98-proof adrenalin.

“Of all the damn things,” he said softly, staring straight ahead.

“What?” she asked innocently, pulling her attention from the butterball moon hanging in the sky straight in front of them.

“Nothing.”

Julie sighed, dropping her head back on the seat. “First it was whatever, now it’s nothing. Has anyone ever told you that you’re not particularly good at communicating your feelings?”

“Actually, no. Usually I’m quite good at communicating my…feelings. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“I expect you’re not talking about verbal communication.”

“I expect I’m not.”

Julie closed her eyes, fighting a sudden and overwhelming fatigue. She wasn’t used to all this excitement. Her petite figure looked incredibly defenseless against the unrelenting darkness of the window beyond. “I think…” She yawned, covering her mouth as if a lady should. “I think you’re probably…sorry…you’re stuck with me…”

He waited, and when she didn’t continue, he realized she had fallen asleep. Just like that; one minute she was chattering like a trained parrot, the next she was sleeping like an angel. He allowed himself a longer look this time, fascinated for some strange reason by the way her hair looked caressing the long line of her throat.

“I expect I’m not sorry,” he whispered.

She awoke to music—loud, thumping, migraine-promoting music.

“There’s a nasty wake-up call,” Billy said, amused.

Blinking her eyes, she looked around, realizing they were at a truck stop. Billy had pulled up to a gas pump, and on the other side of the pump, a low-rider Toyota truck jumped and rocked with deafening noise. Underneath the truck, fluorescent purple lights glowed brightly.

“Have I been asleep long?” she mumbled, sitting up and stretching her arms. “Where are we?”

“You were asleep about an hour,” Billy said, turning off the engine. “And I haven’t the faintest idea where we are. We’re just lucky we stumbled across a gas station that’s open in the middle of the night. This Rent-a-Wreck was about dry.” Since he didn’t want Julie to know he had a cell phone in the glove box, he was relieved to see a pay phone inside the small convenience store. He was itching to call Harris and assure the poor guy his sister was safe. “Look, I have to visit the rest room. Why don’t you fill up the car while I’m gone? I’ll borrow a gas can while I’m inside.”

He was gone before she had time to form the words: I’ve never filled up a car before.

Which was probably good, Julie reasoned. Billy was already under the impression she was a mindless idiot; there was no reason to add fuel to that particular fire by confirming it.

All she had to do was add fuel to the car. And how hard could that be?

She got out of the car, wincing as the music from the Toyota hit her full-force. It wasn’t Chopin, but it was all part of the experience. She watched intently as a whip-cord-lean teenager jumped out of the truck, opened the little door to the gas tank and stuck the nozzle inside. Voilà.

The teenager looked over at her, his clean-shaven head glinting like a cue ball beneath the overhead lighting. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey what?” she asked curiously, fiddling with the door to the gas tank.

He grinned. “Just hey, Blondie. Are you having a little trouble there?”

The little door wouldn’t open. “No,” she muttered, pulling at it with both hands. “It’s just…stuck a little, I think.”

He sauntered over, bringing a heavy aroma of cigarette smoke with him. “You can’t open it from out here, or everyone would be siphoning your gas. Pop the safety latch inside.”

She bit her lip, trying to translate this into Palm Beach language. “Pop what?”

“You’re kidding, right? The door to the gas tank. Hell, haven’t you ever filled up a car before?”

“Not this particular car,” Julie said honestly. Nor any other car, but that was none of his business. “Could you show me where to…pop it?”

“I’d show you anything you want.” He looped his skinny arm around her shoulders, guiding her over to the driver’s side of the car. “You open the car door—like this—and pull that little lever—like this—and it pops the door to the gas tank open. Now pay attention and I’ll demonstrate.” He guided her back to the pump. “Pull the hose out. Twist the cap on the tank, put the hose in and push Start. See? It’s that easy. What’s your name?”

Julie was watching the gas pump intently, afraid the thing was going to overflow. “My what? Oh…Julie. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m Jeff.”

“Goodbye, Jeff.”

“What’s a pink and fluffy thing like you doing out here at 2:00 a.m.?”

“Is this thing going to stop on its own?”

He chuckled. “Poor baby. Whoever let you out alone after dark made a big mistake. Yeah, it will stop.” His fingers kneaded her shoulder. “You owe me something, don’t you think? Have you got a phone number?”

“Everyone has a phone number,” Julie said irritably, twisting away from him.

“What are the chances you’d give it to me?”

“The chances of my adopting you would be greater,” she said, tossing her hair back and staring him down as she would a fly, moth or any other insect annoying her. “Goodbye, Jeff.”

“Not interested, huh?”

“No,” Julie said with an overdose of sincerity, “but I’m sure I’ll have wonderful memories about you for the rest of my life.”

He held up both hands in surrender. “Your loss, Blondie.”

“Let’s talk about loss,” Billy said.

Julie hadn’t seen him approach, as most of her focus had been on the mysterious gas pump and the worrisome gurgling noises it was making. He was carrying a dented old gas can, which he put down directly in front of Jeff. “There are all kinds of loss,” Billy went on, with a smile that didn’t even begin to reach his eyes. “You can loose teeth, for one thing. That kind of loss is really painful. You don’t want to lose any of your teeth, do you, kid?”

There was something about Billy’s expression that made Julie plant herself between the two. “This isn’t necessary. He was showing me how to make the gas pump work.”

“What-ever,” Billy replied, in his best growling fashion.

“Hey man, she needed help,” the teenager said, quickly backing up as he talked. “She couldn’t figure out how to fill the car up, so I helped her. Ask, if you don’t believe me.”