The next morning, Chaz sat behind the steering wheel of his car and checked his watch for the third time in the past fifteen minutes.
What the hell was he doing? Less than an hour had passed since he’d dropped off Savannah at the science laboratory where she’d be meeting with the study group. No doubt, she was already immersed in her work, her mind focused on unlocking the mystery of diseases. Whereas, he was sitting in his car, wondering how he was going to drive away and put her out of his mind. Even for ten minutes.
Damn it! Yesterday in the sculpture garden, he should’ve ignored the tears glittering on her cheeks. He should’ve dismissed the shadows in her hazel eyes and the quiver of her lips. But he’d been too weak to stand back and wait for her to compose herself. Too overcome with the need to comfort her. Touch her.
Hours had passed since then and he still couldn’t push the incident out of his mind. She’d felt so small and vulnerable in his arms, yet at the same time her soft curves had sparked his desire.
He’d desperately wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted to explore her lips and find out for himself if they tasted anything like the sweet womanly scent of her hair and skin. And if the sound of the workers arriving in the front of the building hadn’t interrupted the moment, he probably would have kissed her. Or at least, attempted it.
What a hell of a mistake that would’ve been, he thought sickly. His whole reputation as a responsible bodyguard would have gone up in flames. Would a few moments of pleasure be worth the cost? No. Never. Allison had already taught him that rich girls were not his style. And a rich girl definitely wasn’t in his future. Especially a petite brunette with the last name of Fortune.
Heaving out a long breath, he looked across the street to the block of buildings where Savannah would be doing most of her studying the next few weeks. A day before she’d arrived in Austin, Chaz had spoken with building security, along with the campus police about the safety protocols that were followed on the university. Chaz had been reassured by what he’d learned, yet it wasn’t enough to make him feel completely comfortable about leaving her. But short of camping out in the hallway, there wasn’t much more he could do. It wasn’t feasible or reasonable to keep his eyes on her every second of the day. Furthermore, he shouldn’t want to.
Muttering a curse under his breath, he started the car and jerked it into gear. Sitting here in the parking lot, fretting over the situation was futile.
All you have to do to get away from this anguish is to call Miles Fortune and tell him you’re done. But no, you’re too worried about some other guy moving into Savannah’s apartment. Some other guy holding her in his arms. And that’s the real problem, isn’t it?
Chaz was trying to ignore the nasty little voice going off in his head when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen in the middle of his dashboard and groaned out loud when he realized the caller was Miles Fortune.
In his present frame of mind, Savannah’s father was the last person he should be talking to. But Miles had contracted Chaz’s services and it was mandatory to keep communications open with a client.
Punching a button, Chaz relied on the hands-free connection to allow him to drive safely and talk at the same time. “Hello, Mr. Fortune.”
The few times Chaz had talked with Miles, he’d gotten straight to the point and this morning was no different.
“Good morning, Mr. Mendoza. I’m checking to see if everything is going okay with Savannah.”
Other than a brief crying spell and Chaz holding her as though she belonged to him, everything was great, he thought ruefully. To Miles, he said, “Your daughter is fine, sir. She’s currently on campus and will be in class for most of the day.”
“And where are you?” he asked abruptly. “I’m assuming you’re in the building with her.”
It was all Chaz could do to keep from cursing. When he’d first discussed this job with Miles Fortune, the man had seemed to understand the obstacles a bodyguard often encountered while trying to keep a constant watch over a person. At the time, he’d believed the man understood the situation and would be fairly reasonable to work for. Apparently, the fact that Savannah was hundreds of miles away and in the very heart of Charlotte’s domain was making the multimillionaire banker more than anxious.
“Your assumption is wrong,” Chaz told him. “I’m not in the building with Savannah. That’s impossible.”
“Mr. Mendoza, I told you—”
“No, Mr. Fortune,” he purposely interrupted. “I told you from the very beginning that it would be impossible for me to physically be in your daughter’s presence twenty-four hours a day. It’s not my job to interrupt her life.”
“It’s damned well your job to protect her life! To hell with the interruption! She’ll just have to deal with it.”
Chaz was beginning to see that having Miles Fortune for a father had given Savannah plenty enough to deal with. The idea that this man wanted to keep his grown daughter tightly under his thumb, even if it was for the sake of her safety, made Chaz want to protect her even more.
“You’re correct,” Chaz replied. “It is my responsibility to make sure she remains safe and unharmed. I’m doing that to the best of my ability. If you feel like someone else could do a better job of it, then I won’t hold you to our agreement.”
Chaz hadn’t meant to throw those last words at the man, but Miles Fortune’s demanding attitude had struck a burning match to his already-short fuse.
Long moments of silence stretched inside the car and as Chaz deftly moved through the busy morning traffic of downtown Austin, he waited for Miles Fortune to tell him he was fired. The reality hit the pit of his stomach like a heavy rock. How was he going to explain this to Savannah? And how was she going to feel about it? Relieved? Happy?
Finally, Miles spoke, “I think we both need to take a deep breath and start over. You’re right, Chaz. You are the bodyguard. You know more than I about the rules of what you can and can’t do. If I seem anxious, it’s because—well, I love my daughter very much. I realize she’s twenty-five years old. But she’s never been away from home. Not like this. And when I think about what Charlotte Robinson might be planning and plotting next, it’s enough to make me drink a double scotch at eight o’clock in the morning.”
Chaz was shocked that the man had relented. He was also extremely relieved. Which could only mean one thing: he was already getting far too attached to Savannah.
“I understand, sir. Your concerns are warranted. Have you gained any new information on Charlotte or her whereabouts?” Chaz asked as he braked the car to a halt behind a red light.
“Since Savannah arrived in Austin, I’ve spoken with Connor Fortunado. He and his operatives are working overtime, but so far they’ve had no luck in tracking her whereabouts. However, that detail is only a part of the problem. With Charlotte’s money and connections, Connor feels certain she has her spies and thugs hanging around Austin. Which means danger could come in any shape or form.”
“I understand,” Chaz told him. “I’ll see that your daughter doesn’t unnecessarily expose herself to the risk.”
“I’m counting on you,” Miles replied, then awkwardly cleared his throat. “Can you tell me how she is otherwise? She was very angry with me when she left New Orleans.”
Yesterday, in the sculpture garden when Chaz had held her in his arms, he’d not felt anger from her, only loss and sadness. Since then, Chaz hadn’t questioned her about her tears and she’d not explained. Still, he felt sure her tears had been totally unrelated to her father.
“Savannah has accepted the fact that I’ll be around. Whether she’s still angry with you, I couldn’t say.”
Chaz could hear the man release a long breath.
“I’ll just be glad when someone catches up to Charlotte Prendergast Robinson,” Miles muttered. “Maybe then all of us Fortunes will get some relief.”
Before Chaz could make any sort of reply, Miles explained he was heading into a ten o’clock meeting and abruptly ended the call.
Chaz made sure his phone was disconnected, then turned his attention back to the slow-moving traffic.
Relief? He didn’t expect to find any until Savannah was safely back in New Orleans.
Inside a long room that served as a classroom and a working laboratory, Savannah sat at a desk, staring blankly at the problem she’d been trying to solve for the past half hour. Normally, actuary equations were a snap for Savannah to calculate. But this one had stumped her.
Face it, Savannah. You can’t stop thinking about Chaz Mendoza. Every touch of his hand, every word from his lips is stuck in your brain. Daydreaming about your sexy bodyguard is going to put you on a fast downhill slide.
Savannah rubbed fingertips against her furrowed brow, while wishing she could push the reproachful voice straight out of her head. She didn’t want to believe that she’d allowed herself to stray, if only for a few brief minutes, away from the path she’d chosen for herself. Yet, deep down, she recognized that for the first time in her life, she’d met up with something strong enough to disengage her thoughts from her studies. And she was furious with herself for being so sappy. So goofily romantic.
Chaz wasn’t interested in her. And even if he were, nothing between them could last. As soon as her studies here at UT were over, she’d be going back to New Orleans. He’d be here in Austin working in his family’s wine business. Those hard facts should have been enough to jerk her back to reality. But they weren’t enough to erase the memory of how she’d felt having her cheek against his chest and the beat of his heart thumping in her ear. She could’ve stood there in his arms forever and died a happy woman.
“Miss Fortune, class is finished for the day. If you’d like to stay longer, I can advise security to lock up later—after you leave.”
Savannah looked up to see the lab had emptied, except for Professor Barcroft, who was striding purposely toward her desk.
Short, with a barrel waist, a partially bald head and a stony face partly hidden behind a pair of bifocals, the man hardly looked like a genius or anything close to it. However, in the academic world, Professor Barcroft was revered among his peers, and students fought to get into his classes. The moment Savannah had learned he’d be heading up the study group, she felt like she’d won the lottery. Now, because of her inability to focus, she’d missed huge hunks of his lecture and squandered the first lesson.
“Oh. I’m sorry, Professor Barcroft. I hadn’t realized so much time had passed. I was trying to use an actuarial equation to make my point.” She placed the paper in his outstretched hand. “I’m sure you’ll let me know if it’s not correct.”
The smile on his face was a bit ruthless and reminded Savannah of her father’s expression when he issued a warning.
“The first day of the study can be jarring for some students,” he said. “I’m sure by tomorrow you’ll have yourself pulled together and ready to get down to work.”
Savannah could feel a blush stealing across her face. Had this eagle-eyed professor caught her staring off into space? Damn Chaz Mendoza anyway! She’d worked very hard to get the invitation to this study group, and later on down the line, it would look highly impressive on a résumé. That is, if she didn’t end up making herself look like an eighth-grade student rather than a college graduate.
“I assure you I’ll be more than ready. Thank you, Professor.” Snatching up her tote bag from beneath her desk, she jumped to her feet and hurried out of the laboratory.
At the end of a long hallway, she reached a set of exit doors where Chaz had promised he’d be waiting for her.
As soon as she stepped out of the building, she spotted him sitting on one of the park benches that bordered the sidewalk. The sight of him caused her heart to do a silly little flip and she suddenly wondered how it might feel to hurry to his side and throw her arms around his neck, as though he belonged to her and she belonged to him. But that sort of behavior wasn’t really her style. She didn’t want to cross any lines in this relationship, and besides, she was hardly the type to flirt so outrageously.
Long before Savannah reached the bench, he spotted her and after slipping the phone he’d been scanning into his shirt pocket, he rose and walked down the sidewalk to meet her.
“Hello,” he greeted. “Are you finished for the day, or do you need to go somewhere else on campus?”
Why did her lips insist on tilting into a smile? Why did she want to hook her arm through his and snuggle herself to his side? Nothing about her strange reactions to the man made sense. Nor did she seem capable of stopping them.
“I’m finished,” she told him. “Thank goodness.”
He darted a glance at her. “Bad day?”
Bad? She supposed dreaming about him all day couldn’t be described as bad. Just highly unsettling.
“No. Not really. The professor is new. The surroundings are different. It will take me a few days to get used to the change and get in the groove.”
They began to walk side by side to the parking area some distance away. Savannah noticed that he’d changed from the khakis and polo shirt he’d been wearing that morning. Now a pair of faded blue jeans hugged his rear and clung to his muscled thighs, while an army-green T-shirt outlined every sinewy muscle of his upper body.
He asked, “You didn’t have any problems?”
Before he’d left her this morning, he’d made sure she had her cell phone tucked inside her handbag and his number at the top of her contact list. If she had any sort of problem, either big or small, she was to call him. Did thinking about him for fifty-five minutes out of the hour constitute a problem?
“What sort of problems are you talking about?” she asked.
“Like anyone strange approaching you? Anyone questioning you about your family here in Austin or back in New Orleans?”
“No. Really, Chaz, do you honestly expect someone on campus to go to such lengths to try to harm me? I mean, it would be difficult to come up with the proper identification needed to get into the work lab.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Snakes have a way of slithering through the smallest of cracks. But I have to trust the security measures that the university has in place.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, all of our classes will be held in the same room we were in today. So I won’t be walking all over campus. The only other building I’ll possibly visit is the library and it’s not that far away.”
He frowned and she started to ask him what was wrong, then quickly stopped herself. Yesterday, when they left the winery, his mood had turned dark and quiet and since then it hadn’t appeared to improve. Meeting him only three days ago, it was impossible for Savannah to know if he was the type of guy that changed moods as often as the weather. But considering the timing, Savannah had to wonder if he regretted taking her to the winery and introducing her to his brother and father. Even worse, did he regret those moments in the sculpture garden when he’d held her close and stroked a hand over her hair?
But why would he? What was there to regret? She’d instantly dried her tears. She’d not made a blubbering fool of herself all over him. And once they’d left the winery, she’d not even mentioned the incident. Nor did she plan to.
“Just don’t go to the library alone,” he said bluntly. “Make sure you take someone that you trust with you.”
“I will,” she promised. “I met a nice lady from Beaumont in the study group. Since that’s just a hop and a jump from New Orleans, we have a lot in common. Marva’s in her sixties and finishing up her doctorate. Before her children grew up and left home, she only had a high school diploma. I’m so inspired by her spirit and determination. I can only hope I’ll be that ambitious and productive when I reach that age.”
He glanced at her. “You have plans to go for your doctorate?”
“Most definitely. The quicker, the better. Unless—”
His black brows formed a single line above his narrowed eyes. “Unless?”
“Uh—something causes me to pause my studies for a while.” Like allowing herself to be a woman in every sense of the word. Allowing herself to indulge in a flirtation. In an attraction. The thoughts came out of nowhere, shocking her as they zinged through her head. That kind of thinking wasn’t her! Not at all! “You know—things happen that are out of a person’s control.”
“Sure. I know.”
The drive to Live Oak Lane was basically done in silence. Savannah got the impression that Chaz wanted to be left to his own thoughts—whatever they might be. Was there a woman somewhere in the city that he was wishing he could visit? Perhaps even spend the night with? If so, then being Savannah’s bodyguard was putting a cramp in his love life.
The notion left her feeling like a bit of a nuisance and lonelier than she could ever remember being. But that was only because she was away from home and missing the company of her family, she assured herself. She didn’t need to make chitchat with Chaz. She didn’t care if he preferred to keep his thoughts to himself. The less she connected with him, the better off she’d be today, tomorrow and every day after that.
As soon they arrived at the apartment, Savannah went straight to her bedroom. After changing clothes, she gathered up the notes she’d managed to jot down during class and curled up in a chair. She remained there, doing her best to focus on Professor Barcroft’s remarks, until hunger eventually drove her to the kitchen.
When she walked into the room, she was surprised to find Chaz standing at the gas range stirring something in a large skillet. The delicious aroma of cooking food permeated the air and caused her mouth to water.
“Mmm. Something smells yummy.” In spite of vowing to keep her distance from him, she walked over to the range and stood next to him. “You didn’t tell me you could cook.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“What is that?” She peered closer at the frying mixture in the skillet. “It looks like fish with a bunch of other things.”
“It’s some of the fish you purchased during your grocery shopping binge. The rest is tomatoes, onions and two kinds of peppers. Bell for flavor and jalapeño for heat.”
He picked up a bottle of soy sauce and doused the whole thing. Her empty stomach growled.
“Where did you learn to do this? Surely not in the army.”
He slanted her a dry look. “Soldiers have to eat, too. But no, my KP duties were limited to washing dishes and mopping floors. The cooking is a family thing. All of us brothers are fairly handy in the kitchen.”
Ever since Chaz had picked her up at the university, she’d been trying to convince herself that she didn’t want to talk to him. That she didn’t need or want his company. But she’d only been fooling herself. “Cooking is something that interested all of you?”
“Hmm. I guess you could say we learned out of necessity more than interest.”
She wanted to ask him what he meant by that remark, but decided he probably wouldn’t want to answer. After meeting his father and brother yesterday, many questions about his family had crossed her mind. Such as the whereabouts of his mother and why he never mentioned her. But that, too, was none of her business.
No, she’d keep the questions to herself, she decided. And maybe a time would come when Chaz would want to talk to her about the parts of his life that mattered the most.
“Uh, were you planning on sharing your meal?” she dared to ask “Or is all of that for you?”
He turned his head toward her and she found herself looking into chocolate-brown eyes veiled with thick black lashes. Sensual bedroom eyes. She’d heard of them, but had never seen them. Until she’d met this man.
He turned his attention back to the skillet. “I believe there’s enough here for the both of us. That is, if you trust my cooking.”
“If the aroma coming from that skillet is anything like the taste, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble choking it down,” she said impishly, then asked, “Is there anything I can do?”
“You can set the table and get us something to drink. The iced tea you made yesterday would be good,” he suggested. “If there’s any left.”
“There’s plenty of tea,” she told him. “I’ll get it and the table ready.”
Leaving his side, she went to work gathering glasses, plates and utensils. “Would you rather eat here in the kitchen,” she asked, “or in the dining room?”
“Wherever,” he answered as he continued to stir the fish and vegetables. “I’m sure you’d prefer the dining room.”
“Wrong. I like it here in the kitchen. We can see out the glass doors to the patio.”
“Those sliding glass doors are a security nightmare,” he said gruffly. “If you ever get that house you want on Bourbon Street, make sure it doesn’t have any.”
Did he view everything with security in mind? Or did he think because she was a Fortune she was always going to be in danger? Dear God, she certainly hoped that wasn’t the case.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Chaz.”
She took her time setting the table with plates, glasses, linen napkins and silverware, then stood back to survey her work. Everything looked nice, yet the table needed something more.
“Flowers,” she said, more to herself than to him. “That’s the only thing missing.”
But she wasn’t back home in the Garden District where she could walk outside to her mother’s flower beds and cut whatever she wanted. There were a few blooming shrubs in front of the apartment, but those were oleanders and she hardly wanted to put anything toxic on the dinner table.
The rose! Her rose!
She hurried out of the kitchen and returned moments later with a juice glass partially filled with water and the pink rose bud. After placing it in the middle of the small table, she stood back and smiled.
“It’s perfect now.”
“This isn’t a dinner party, Savannah.”
The flat remark had her glancing over her shoulder to see he was looking at her, and the scowl on his face was like a storm cloud blocking out the sun.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re taking pains with the table like you’re expecting guests.”
“We’re having dinner,” she said primly. “Not eating a hot dog at the fair.”
The roll of his eyes was even worse than his scowl and Savannah had to fight the unladylike urge to march over and kick his shin.
“Don’t tell me you’ve done something as improper as eating something with your hands while walking around a dusty midway. I can’t imagine it, Miss Fortune.”
The sarcasm in his voice, especially the way he’d spoken her name, should have sent her temper skyrocketing. Instead, it hurt to think he viewed her as a spoiled diva. She wasn’t that sort of person.
With a shake of her head, she said, “You don’t understand, Chaz. I—uh, never get to do this sort of thing at my parents’ home, so it’s fun for me. And since you’ve done all the cooking, I want to make the table look nice for you.”
His expression stoic, he studied her for a brief moment, then turned back to the stove. “Fine,” he said curtly. “This is your apartment. Not mine.”
She pressed her lips tightly together. Calling him a jerk wouldn’t fix anything. “That’s right,” she said. “But thanks to my father, you and I are sharing this living space.”
“I guess you think it’s my fault that you’re a Fortune—that you need protecting.”
She needed protection all right, Savannah thought ruefully. The kind that would keep her feelings all safely wrapped away from Chaz Mendoza.
With a heavy sigh, she pulled a plastic pitcher from the refrigerator. “I’m sorry that living here with me is putting you under such a strain, Chaz. Really, I am. I understand that you have a life of your own. It can’t be easy to give up your friends and social life for an extended period of time.”
He didn’t make any sort of reply. Which didn’t surprise Savannah. He only talked when the mood struck him. And even then, she never knew what to expect. One minute he was sweet as sugar, the next as bitter as green persimmon.
Back at the table, she was pouring tea into ice-filled glasses and wondering if she should find some excuse to forgo this impromptu dinner, when he suddenly appeared beside her.
She turned her head just enough to see his brooding face and that was all it took to make her heart leap into her throat. Her grip on the pitcher wavered and she placed it on the tabletop rather than risk spilling the tea everywhere.
To her further dismay, he wrapped a hand around her upper arm. The sensation of his long fingers pressing into her flesh left her feeling like a meek little mouse caught in a hawk’s talons.
“You don’t understand anything about me,” he said gruffly. “You don’t even know me.”
She dared to meet his gaze and as she looked deep into the brown depths of his eyes, she saw shadows. The kind that harbored anger, loss and pain. Had he endured some sort of tragedy? Something in the army? Something about his family?
All at once, Savannah recognized there was a soft, vulnerable place inside of him, a space he didn’t want anyone else to see. Especially her. The realization was all it took to put a lump in her throat and a wobbly smile on her face.
“You don’t know anything about me, either,” she murmured.
Suddenly, the shadows in his eyes were replaced with a warm flickering light and then his gaze dropped to her lips. Raw energy crackled between them and Savannah was certain all the oxygen was being sucked from her lungs. Was he actually going to kiss her?
Her legs began to tremble and the hold he had on her arm had turned to a band of fire circling her flesh. She felt her upper body gravitating toward his. Or was the weakness in her knees causing her to sway?
Either way, she was certain she was going to wilt and she latched a hand onto the edge of the table and drew in a shaky breath.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice husky. “We don’t really know each other. But I—”
“Yes?”
His gaze slowly lifted back to hers and she could see the beckoning light in his eyes had vanished and the tense moment between them was over. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
“I think we’d better eat now.” He cleared his throat and added, “Before the food gets cold.”
“Yes, I’m hungry.”
She was hungry for him, Savannah thought. And all the things she’d missed since she’d grown into womanhood.
But he was her bodyguard and the moment she headed back to New Orleans, his services would end. He’d go back to his life and she’d return to hers.
She’d defied her father and made this trip to Austin anyway. Because she’d believed her stint at the university would be a big boon to her education and a favorable mark for any future employer to see. But at some point during these past few days, those things had lost their importance. Now she was more concerned with holding on to her heart.