Nothing but Trouble (7 page)

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Authors: Tory Richards

Tags: #ocean, #boat, #Florida, #abductor, #millionaire, #daughter, #Romance, #wedding, #engagement, #bodyguard, #kidnap, #desire

BOOK: Nothing but Trouble
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Brent had heard the same rumors about Brody. “That may be true, Senator, but he’s still a man with more than his share of pride. Believe me when I say he won’t welcome the thought that another man might be touching Sophie. Those kinds of doubts have a way of acting like acid in a man’s gut.”

The smile was evident in the senator’s tone. “Yes…” he said, drawing out his response as though visualizing what they were talking about. “Good plan, son. I like the idea of planting those images in his arrogant head. That will definitely drive him mad. From what I’ve observed these last few weeks he’s been overly possessive of my daughter.”

Brent could almost understand that. She was the kind of woman men coveted while they feared at the same time. Wealthy, intelligent, beautiful, the kind who’d never held any special appeal to him. Nevertheless, in spite of the trouble she caused him and his peace of mind he couldn’t deny he liked her spirit.

“Has it occurred to you that maybe Sophie wants this union?” Brent had to ask, although his instincts, coupled with what he’d observed between her and Jonathan so far, indicated otherwise. He’d known a few women who’d married for convenience, and money was a powerful incentive.

The senator didn’t hesitate with a sharp response, his mind clearly made up. “No! Never! He’s blackmailing her; I’d bet my life on it. There was no way I would just stand by and let her marry him tomorrow.”

The conversation they’d had the week before came back to Brent. The senator had explained that kidnapping Sophie had been a last resort and not something he took lightly. Brent didn’t take kidnapping lightly either, especially when he was the one doing it. His services usually bordered on protecting people from this sort of thing.

Still, when the senator had first phoned Brent, detailing his plan, the distraught father wouldn’t take no for an answer. Brent had tried to reason with the senator but the desperation he’d detected in his old friend’s tone had finally worn Brent down. Convincing Brent that maybe the senator was on to something.

At that point Brent had never met Jonathan Lord, but he’d heard enough about Lord to know he was bad news and not someone he’d like as a human being. He hadn’t met Sophie either. For some reasons their paths had never crossed in the years he and the senator had known each other.

“I’ll stop by your office tomorrow at the scheduled time to see what your progress is,” Brent informed him before hanging up. It was late and he was tired. Tom was in the spare bedroom and that left him with the sofa.

He glanced at it skeptically. The shape of it resembled a square box with a throw tossed over it, looking about as comfortable as a bed of nails. They hadn’t made a sofa yet that could accommodate his tall frame, comfortably anyway. He glanced at the bedroom door wondering how much squealing Sophie would do if he joined her. The bed was big enough for the two of them. In the end he decided against it. Everything is peaceful now, why stir things up and risk having security return?

Besides, he was sure Sophie would make enough noise to wake the dead if she woke to find him in bed with her. Checking to make sure her door was locked he headed back to the couch, ready for a very uncomfortable night.

 

 

* * * *

 

 

Sophie waited until she was sure everyone was asleep before carefully trying the connecting bathroom door that led into the spare bedroom. Her heart was in her throat as she turned the doorknob and it actually opened. Someone didn’t do their homework. With silent elation she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room before continuing.

She made out the dark outline of a dresser in one corner and a bed in the center of the room, squinting until she recognized the outline of someone sleeping on it. Instincts warned her it was Tom. Sliding her feet along the plush carpet she quickly made her way to the door, holding her breath as she opened it and praying it wouldn’t make a noise. The hinges squeaked slightly but to Sophie they sounded as loud as a gunshot blast in the room, causing her to freeze in fear. Tom moaned and rolled into a sitting position, galvanizing her into action.

She was in the hallway heading toward the living room when she heard his voice question groggily, “What? Who’s there?”

As soon as her gaze landed on the sofa Sophie made out Brent’s tall form, realizing he’d been roused by Tom’s voice. He jumped off the couch just as she dashed by. With a cry of distress she ducked beneath his outstretched arm, racing for the front door. Her fingers fumbled with the various locks. If only she could make it into the hallway. The next noise she heard was his low curse when his leg hit the corner of the coffee table, causing the items on top of it to topple over and fall to the floor noisily.

There was nothing like a good dose of fear to get the adrenaline pumping but instead of aiding her escape, it crippled her fingers, slowing her down. They were trembling so badly they were useless. Swearing softly, her lips quivered with frustration and tears filled her eyes.
Why is this happening to me?

Chapter 7

 

 

Brent saved his breath, knowing if he called out it would fall on deaf ears. He could hear Sophie’s frantic gasps as she turned the locks one by one, deciding to pick up speed before she escaped into the hallway. Tom was supposed to check the apartment out and make sure all the necessary steps were taken to prevent something like this from happening. He caught up to her just as she turned the doorknob and opened the door, slamming it shut again just as fast. She spun around with a muffled cry of alarm.

Brent leaned in close, sucking in a harsh breath. “You lied to me, lady,” he accused. Whether her hands fell to his bare chest automatically or on purpose he wasn’t taking any chances. Knowing what those lethal nails were capable of, he pulled her hands down to her sides, holding them firmly against the door.

“I promised I wouldn’t make any noise,” she defended herself in a breathless little voice. “And I don’t lie.”

“Purposely omitting the truth is the same thing,” he grated with irritation. She made a half-hearted effort to break away and Brent let his body relax fully against her, ignoring her sharp gasp of protest.

“Just where did you think you were going?”

“For a walk,” she said without missing a beat. “Sometimes it helps me sleep.”

Even in the gloom Brent could make out the defiant glitter in her eyes. “Cute,” he said with disgust, trying not to notice how soft she was, or how sweet she smelled. “You get an A for being resourceful.” He yawned loudly, giving his head a rough shake to clear the cobwebs.

“Get off me!” she snapped, not bothering to keep her voice down. “You won’t get a penny from my father or Jonathan if you, if you touch me.”

Her unexpected remark caught Brent by surprise. “Somehow I doubt that.” There was a trace of laughter in his voice. “But if it was a stipulation, it just might be worth the forfeit of all those millions.”
What the devil am I saying?
Her nearness was affecting him and he took a step back.

Tom finally entered the room in a clumsy stumble, drawing to a halt when he saw them at the front door. His sigh of relief was unmistakable. “I’m sorry, Brent, it didn’t occur to me to check the connecting bathroom door.”

Brent didn’t budge, never taking his eyes off Sophie. “Forget it, Tom, go back to bed. I have the situation under control.” His stare captured and held the vulnerability he saw reflected in Sophie’s eyes. He made an attempt to read what he saw but he’d never been any good at figuring women out.

“You know, I get the impression you’re not the defenseless little senator’s daughter you’d like everyone to believe. She would never have attempted to escape while two men were holding her captive.”

“Then you’re wrong,” Sophie replied, injecting strength into her tone as though to prove her point. “What person in their right mind wouldn’t try to get away if they were being held against their will?” She strained against his hands as though testing his strength, arching her body slightly, but that was a mistake when all it did was bring her into bodily contact with him.

She stilled instantly. “Will you please let me go back to my room?”

“You brought this on yourself, princess. All I’m doing is keeping you from leaving this apartment.”

Struggling against a man wearing only boxer shorts, and snug ones at that, wasn’t a very good idea. Didn’t she have any inkling what she was doing? Brent clenched his teeth against the telltale signs of arousal racing through his blood. She was about to find out real soon. The fact he suspected she didn’t have anything on under his shirt wasn’t helping matters.

“Stop that,” he ordered when she slammed her hips into his again, chipping away at his control. The next time she did it he sucked in an audible breath, becoming angry at her inability to realize what she was provoking. He thrust his hips right back at her.

Well, he’d warned her.

His senses were suddenly wired, turning him harder than stone. Unbidden thoughts of reaching beneath the hem of his shirt and trailing his fingers along the soft skin of her inner thighs clouded his judgment, making him dizzy. He tried to tell himself it was because he was exhausted and needed sleep. He closed his eyes, groaning inwardly, refusing to give in to the hunger of his body. It wouldn’t take much to have her naked and beneath him.

Her helpless whimper penetrated the fog surrounding his head. With a low, frustrated noise he pulled her away from the door, squashing down the lust riding him. Nothing could happen between them. Yet he couldn’t help wondering what it was about her that made him forget his resolutions about not trusting women. Given a little time, he could probably figure it out, only he was too tired to think about it right now. He pulled her behind him.

“What are you going to do?”

“Something I should have done in the first place,” he grumbled, ignoring the underlining fear he detected in her soft tone. She should have thought about the consequences before breaking her promise. He dragged her through the darkened living room. With a deft flick of his wrist he unlocked her bedroom door, jerking her inside and slamming it behind them.

“No!” When it became clear they were heading straight for the bed she pulled back.

“Yes!” Brent hadn’t had as much as a cat nap in the last thirty hours and he was going to get a good night sleep if it killed him, or her! “I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you in this bed long enough for me to get some shuteye,” he snapped, tossing her on it.

As she bounced upon the bed she reached for the hem of her shirt where it rode up high, but not before Brent got a glimpse of her incredibly long and sexy legs. He thought he saw a flash of black silk before she was able to yank the shirt down, answering his earlier thoughts about whether or not she was wearing anything under her gown.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp filtering through the room cast a sensual warmth that provided just the right mood for lovers, if they’d been lovers. Brent ignored it, turning to the nightstand next to the bed. If memory served him correctly, he’d placed a pair of handcuffs there for an emergency. As far as he was concerned this definitely qualified. He rummaged around until he found what he was looking for, holding them up with a wicked grin.

“You can’t be serious!” Sophie gasped, her eyes growing round. “I haven’t broken my promise to be quiet!”

His chuckle held little humor. “You can’t be trusted. These are to ensure you keep the other half of your promise, to behave,” he shot back, reaching for her wrist and clamping one end of the cuffs around it before she could pull free.

She quickly rolled away from him, forgetting he still had the other end of the cuffs. Instead of forcing her back, Brent kneeled on the bed, yanking her wrist up with the cuff around it, fully intending to secure her to the bedpost. He hesitated, his eyes staring with total disbelief before swearing a blue streak a mile long. There was no headboard. Of all the rotten luck.

He looked at Sophie, narrowing his gaze at the ill-placed humor brimming in her eyes. Her expression clearly told him she’d guessed what he’d been about to do. For a moment he forgot about everything except her beautiful face, spellbound like some gawky teenager getting his first look at a woman’s breasts. The look in her lovely blue eyes asked him what he thought he was going to do next, so he calmly took the empty handcuff and clamped it around his own wrist, which promptly wiped the smug look off her face.

“You can’t do that,” she said when she was finally able to close her mouth again. Her eyes looked positively wild, the color on her cheeks deepening.

“I just did,” he responded calmly.

“But…”

“Listen, princess, you’re safe tonight. I’m too damn tired to try anything.” Before she could stop him Brent made himself comfortable on the bed next to her. He forced her down beside him with a not so gentle tug, fluffing the pillow under his head and releasing a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Get some sleep; tomorrow will be here before you know it.” He closed his eyes, hoping that was the end of further talk.

It was going to be hell lying next to her all night but it was a temporary solution to having to worry about her escaping. Tomorrow he’d figure out something different but right now all Brent wanted was some sleep.

Sophie mumbled something under her breath. “What was that?” In spite of being fatigued the humor was evident in his tone. “Did you say something about a goodnight kiss?”

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