In the Arms of Danger

TEN

My plans have been ruined!

He didn't expect Leland Mitchell to hire a bodyguard for Taylor. Everything had been going perfectly so far...the threatening letters to the high and mighty king of gambling; the kidnapping attempt to get Leland and Taylor's attention.

Yup, he had gotten their attention; it just didn't happen the way he'd wanted. And there wasn't supposed to be a bodyguard. Taylor was supposed to run to him for help. Not the crappy bodyguard.

Crouching behind the hedges, he peered across the yard. Agent Cory Ross, Taylor's watchdog, Killer, exited her house and looked over every inch of the place. Snickering, he mentally patted himself on the back for coming up with a nickname for Taylor's bodyguard. Now, it was no laughing matter. Soon, that man would set alarms around the yard, maybe even cameras, making it more difficult to sneak closer to the house at night.

Watching the bodyguard searched the yard, his trigger-happy hand stayed near his gun the whole time as if he expected a showdown at any moment. He growled. He must get closer to the house. He couldn't let one night slip by without seeing her. That stupid agent might even make it harder to watch her through his binoculars and see her loving smile as she played with his daughter. Her bodyguard had taken away his right to keep an eye on the woman he loved.

All he could do now was plan for the time he and Taylor could be together again with their child.

They would be together. Nobody could stop him.

He waited while that man strutted around Taylor's house. Men like Agent Ross knew how to sink their slimy hands onto other men's possessions. Taylor was his, although she told people differently.

He frowned. Why did she tell people he'd left her? He'd even heard her tell people he was dead. She knew better. Was it because she didn't want to admit her true feelings for him?

That didn't make sense. Not too long ago they were in each other's arms while he comforted her and whispered words of love. She knew how he felt. Why did she push him away? If she was afraid of what her powerful father would say, that could be taken care of easily. With Leland Mitchell out of the way, he, Taylor, and their child would live a very happy, and extremely wealthy, life. A life he'd dreamed about for so long.

He wouldn't stand by and watch another man with his beloved. He had to get the bodyguard out of the picture. No other way around it. Taylor was his, and once he'd gotten rid of her controlling father, he'd come back into her life and as a family, they could live off Leland's money.

A grin pulled on the corners of his mouth. Soon, my dear, Taylor. Soon we'll be together as a family. Just as we should be.

* * * *

Cory snapped awake. His heart hammered in a frantic rhythm. Something was wrong. He reached for the gun on his shoulder holster.

Gone.

He cursed, patted his body, and blinked to get his bearings. Beside him on the nightstand lay his gun and holster. He breathed a heavy sigh and sank back on the mattress. Reality finally whammed into him like a drunken driver going one-hundred miles per hour.

Taylor was back in his life...and he was her bodyguard.

Cory groaned, rubbed his eyes and rose to a sitting position. Life couldn't get any more complicated.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid his bare feet on the soft carpet as he took in his surroundings. Taylor's guestroom was more than he had expected. Of course, he wasn't used to the finer things in life, which she had used to decorate the room. The bed had been the most comfortable he'd ever lain upon, and the matching dresser and nightstands were top quality cherry oak. Everything matched the curtains, including the wallpaper.

This was nicer than expensive hotels he'd stayed in.

Now wasn't the time to dally in the comforts of the luxurious room. Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head and stood. He shuffled to the adjoining bathroom and prepared his shower. The sun may have just begun its lazy greeting to the sleepy city of Redding, California, but Cory had a busy day ahead of him and couldn't waste any time.

He gathered his clothes and walked quietly into the bathroom. As soon as he switched on the light, he could tell this wasn't the bathroom Taylor used. Disney characters were painted on the walls. The rugs and toilet seat covers were a pinkish-purple color. Even the shower curtain has pictures of Disney princesses. The few shelves were lined with bubble bath bottles, shampoos, and lotions.

The mixture of the smells reminded him of when he and Taylor had been intimate together for the first time. Her friend, Susan, was out one a date with a guy, and Taylor had invited Cory up to her hotel room. The two of them couldn't get enough of each other... several times, in fact. When he had taken a shower afterwards, he recalled the bathroom smelling very similar to Meggie's bathroom.

So sweet, and girlie.

Chuckling, he turned on the water and proceeded to shower. Thankfully, he had brought his own soap and shampoo, or else he'd smell like a girl. Once finished, he dried off with a cute, pink towel.

He rolled his eyes. It's a good thing his friends couldn't see him now.

A half hour later, all dressed, face shaved, teeth brushed, he was ready, but not as willing, to continue his assignment from hell.

He opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Silence greeted him. Apparently, Taylor and her daughter were not early risers.

Hurrying down to the lower floor, he started to check the rooms, just as he'd done yesterday. When he reached the second floor, he took softer steps, not wanting to wake Taylor. Seeing her first thing in the morning wouldn't be good right now. It would bring back too many memories. Memories that still haunted his dreams.

Nightmares, actually.

As he passed Meggie's room a loud thump startled him. It sounded like something had fallen to the floor. Or someone sneaking in through the window.

He posed his hand over the butt of his gun as he slowly opened the door.

The floor squeaked and feet tapped on the carpet before a pint-sized body jumped on the bed. He grinned and relaxed. Meggie's wide eyes stared at him as she pulled the blanket to her chin.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I wanna get up."

He took a step further inside. "Do you remember me from yesterday?" After the poor girl's traumatic experience, she needed to know he was the good guy. Especially now that he suspected he was her father.

"You saved me."

He nodded. "Do you remember my name?"

"No."

"Cory Ross but you can call me Cory." Perhaps one day she'd call him Daddy.

A smile crept across her mouth, bringing color to her cheeks. "Otay."

"Do you think your mother is awake?"

"No."

He leaned against the bed, admiring the luxuries the child had at this age. She could have been a princess from all the expensive additions that were in this room. A nineteen-inch television hung on the wall in the corner of the room, beside it a shelf full of kids' movies. In the other corner sat the biggest dollhouse he'd ever seen. Of course, he hadn't seen many. He also hadn't conversed with many children.

She continued to stare, her head tilted. What could he say? He didn't know what little girls her age talked about.

"Um...are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

She shook her head. "Mommy makes it."

Good. He didn't think he could fix her what she was used to eating, anyway. Considering Taylor's wealth, he was sure they ate queen's food on a king's platter.

He pulled away from the bed and moved to the door. "I better go back to what I was doing."

"What're you doing?"

He glanced over his shoulder. The child's big blue eyes were wide and curious. Adorable. If he let her, she'd wrap him around her finger. What am I thinking...she already has.

"I'm checking the house for your mommy."

"Is the bad guy here?"

"No, but I'm going to make sure he can't get in."

"You a cop?"

"No, but I used to be."

"Why do have a gun?"

He grinned. "Because I can. I have a special permit."

He turned to leave again, but she scooted forward on her knees to the end of the bed, her feet tucked beneath her. Her long brown hair hung in wayward curls around her shoulders.

"Do you wike my mommy?"

He hitched a breath. Why would she ask such a question? Hopefully, she wouldn't be able to tell he was lying. "Sure. I like your mommy."

Meggie shook her head. "You fighted with her last night. I heard. Has she been bad?"

He chuckled and folded his arms. "Your mother and I were just arguing, sweetie. Adults do that sometimes."

"Oh." She scratched her head. "Mommy argooes with Pampa a lot, and she gets mad."

"Why do they argue?"

"Dunno. I don't wanna argoo with you. I wanna be friends."

"Friends...now that's a great idea." He took a step toward her and held out his hand. "Should we shake on it?"

She stared at his hand and shrugged. "Otay."

Lifting to her knees, she slipped her tiny hand into his. He gave it a hearty shake before letting go.

"It's settled. We'll always be friends now."

She giggled and crawled back to her pillow, hugging it against her chest.

He winked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to check the rest of the house."

"Otay."

Shutting the door, he grinned. He could easily give her a part of his heart. Too bad he couldn't do the same with her mother.

But then...he didn't want to give Taylor any part of his heart. After searching a full year without a trace, he'd given up on ever finding the woman he'd loved. It took some time, but he eventually erased the pain from his heart. He'd thought he'd erased the memories, too, but upon seeing Taylor again, they flooded back like water through a broken dam.

When he checked all the rooms, he hurried down the stairs to the side door leading into the garage. After giving the garage a good walk-through, he headed out to the front yard. A white-picket fence lined her green grass. Even the mailbox was white and hooked to the fence.

Chuckling, he shook his head. He never pictured Taylor living in something like this. The woman he'd gotten to know wouldn't have settled for a house in the suburbs. She was more of a city girl. Bright lights and fast action was more her style.

He walked to the gate near the sidewalk and glanced up the street, and then down. The neighborhood was too quiet. He could get used to living like this.

Cory moved around to the back yard. The sun rose higher in the horizon now and brightened the wooden fence that had been painted white, which surrounded Taylor's yard. A glare caught his eyes, and he shielded his hand against it. A bright, red, color flashed before him as he pulled his focus to the fence. He stopped in his tracks, his heart plummeting to his feet.

Written in big, bold red letters across the back of the fence, the paint dripping against the white paint: Your days are numbered.