displayed the detritus that ended up in summer homes: yellowed paperbacks, videotapes of old movies, board games in broken boxes held together by dehydrated rubber bands. There was something about this house she’d loved from the beginning, and her inner Martha Stewart wanted to toss out all the junk and clean those windows until they sparkled.
She picked up a ratty dish towel she’d used to wipe up a Coke spill and rubbed one corner of the glass. Most of the dirt was on the outside, but not nearly all of it. She blew on the pane and rubbed again. Better.
Cooking wasn’t the only homemaking task she’d observed during her White House years, and fifteen minutes later she was equipped with a squeegee she’d seen in the upstairs bathroom, a bucket of clean water with a few drops of dishwashing soap, and a stepladder from the pantry. Before long, she’d finished one section of the sunroom windows. She reached for a spot she’d missed, and when she was satisfied, climbed down only to trip on the bottom rung.
Panda stood just inside the door, a can of Coke in his hand, combat in his eyes. “I’ll bet you were real popular with the Secret Service.”
Chapter Eight
SHE SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME back to the house, and she certainly shouldn’t have let him catch her washing his filthy windows. She grabbed the ladder for support and tested Viper’s sneer again. “Did I hurt your pride?”
“Destroyed it,” he said dryly.
“Excellent. It’s not every day I get to outwit a trained professional.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘outwit.’”
“I would.” His clothes had dried, but he kicked his shoes off, and she could have sworn his dark stubble had grown since she’d given him the slip. “The ferry’s not due in until six.” She patted her tutu skirt back in place. “Obviously you had better luck chartering a boat than I did.”
“The gun helped.”
She had no idea whether he was serious or not. She knew nothing about him. He ran his thumb around the curve of the Coke can and propped a shoulder against the doorjamb. “Now I see why your father was so insistent about me not identifying myself. You’ve had practice pulling your disappearing act.”
“I’ve only slipped away a few times.”
He jabbed his Coke in the general direction of her face. “If I’d really been on duty, you wouldn’t have slipped away at all.”
True. He wouldn’t have let her out of his sight. Which meant her family really hadn’t rehired him. “Who tipped you off that I’ve been staying here?”
“Let’s just say I’ve kept tabs on you.”
He gestured toward the section of windows she’d been working on. “You want to tell me why you’re doing that?”
“Because they’re filthy.” She laid one more grievance at his feet. “The whole place is a mess. If you’re lucky enough to own a house like this, you should take care of it.”
“I do. A woman comes in every two weeks.”
“And you can see for yourself what a top-notch job she’s been doing.”
He glanced around as if he was looking at the place for the first time. “I guess it’s getting a little mangy.”
“You think?”
“I’ll hire somebody else.”
She wondered if his gun was back in its ankle holster. Firearms didn’t bother her. She’d spent years being guarded by armed agents, although they tended to wear business suits instead of jeans and obscene T-shirts. So it wasn’t the gun. It was the fact that she hadn’t known about the gun or the two-week contract or any of the measly details she should have known about before she decided to drop that towel and jump into bed with him.
She tossed down the squeegee. “Why did my parents hire you? As opposed to someone reputable?”
That annoyed him. “I am reputable.”
“I’m sure they thought so at the time.” Viper smirked. “How did they find you anyway? Never mind. You’re on one of those work-release programs the prisons offer.”
He cocked his head, his expression puzzled. “What’s happened to you?”
Her rudeness was giving her a rush. “Or maybe an aide spotted your name on a sex offenders registry and decided to play a little prank?” She wanted to go on like this forever, let her tongue run free, fling out one nasty after another, say whatever insult popped into her head without a care about how it reflected on the office of the president of the United States.
“You wanted to know about me. I’ll tell you.” The Coke can landed with a thud on the wobbly wooden table by the door.
“No need.” She practiced her new Viper’s smirk. “I don’t care.”
“I’m thirty-six. I was born and raised in Detroit. In and out of trouble until the army straightened me out. Pulled sweet duty in Germany, went to Wayne State for a degree in criminal justice-”
“You have a
That made him angrier. “Just because I don’t brag about my exclusive upbringing doesn’t mean I can’t talk.”
“I never bragged-”
“I joined the Detroit police force. Resigned a couple of years ago to take over a private firm in Chicago that specializes in security for corporate executives, celebrities, athletes, and Wall Street crooks getting death threats they damn well deserve. Your parents hired me to guard you because I’m good at what I do. I’ve never been married and don’t intend to be. I like dogs, but I’m gone too much to have one. I also like hip-hop and opera. Make of that whatever you want. When I’m not on duty I sleep in the raw. Anything else you’d like to know that’s none of your business?”
“Patrick Shade? Is that name another of your many lies?”
“No. And there weren’t that many lies.”
“How about Huntsville prison?”
“Give me a break. You knew that was bogus.”
She hadn’t exactly. “Construction worker?”
“I worked construction for a while.”
“A man of honor. My mistake.”
He wouldn’t back down. “Your parents hired me. I took my orders from them, and judging from what happened today, they made a good call when they told me not to identify myself.”
“They’re overprotective.”
“You’ve gotten threatening letters. You’ve been knocked over a couple of times. And you were part of a high- profile wedding. There is such a thing as exercising reasonable caution.”
“The only person who caused me any harm was you!”
He flinched, which should have made her feel better than it did. “You’re right,” he said. “I should have kept my hands to myself no matter how crazy you made me.”
Knowing she’d made him crazy encouraged her to continue her attack. “Whose idea was Caddo Lake?”
“It was a good place to keep you out of sight. The rental house was isolated, and your parents wanted to give you time to sort things out and realize you’d made a mistake.”
“All of you thought that sticking me on the back of a death machine was the best way to get me to Caddo?”
“I didn’t plan on that.”
“And here I thought you planned everything.”
“Yeah, well, next time I guard a bride, you can be damned sure I’ll anticipate that she might take off.”
