Page 1 of My Bodyguard Neighbor
Chapter One
Holly Reese steppedback from her easel.Turquoise paint streaked her forearm as she studied the canvas.The abstract painting in front of her was a violent storm of color.Jagged midnight black slashed through fields of angry red.Perfect.It was a scream.Her scream.A way to bleed out the frustration of being Benedict Reese's daughter.
Federal Judge Benedict Reese was controlling, powerful, relentless.He was always trying to buy her silence with checks disguised as concern about her bohemian lifestyle.He had sent another one yesterday.She'd torn it up and thrown the pieces in the trash where they belonged.He'd long since stopped leaving her voice mails.
A heavy thud from the apartment next door rattled the walls.The unit had been empty for months, but apparently not anymore.She glanced toward the shared wall, curious.Her building attracted a specific type of tenant—artists, musicians, creative types who couldn't afford anything better.
Another thud.Then another.
Barefoot, she crept to the window, wiping her hands on her paint-stained apron.In the space beside her car sat a black pickup filled with moving boxes.
She wondered what her new neighbor would be like.She had started to turn away when a man emerged from her building and approached the truck.The sight of him made her catch her breath.Broad shoulders stretched a black T-shirt.Muscles filled worn jeans.He moved like every step mattered, like the world might attack him at any second and he was ready for it.When he lifted a heavy box off the back of the truck like it weighed nothing, his arms flexed in ways that made her mouth go dry.
Her fingers curled against the glass as she leaned closer.He wasn't just gorgeous.He was lethal.Everything in his stance screamed predator.He scanned the parking lot before every trip, cataloging threats and exits like a soldier who never stopped training.
Her brain whispered danger.
Her body whispered yes.
Then, as if he could feel her staring, his head snapped up.
She jerked back from the window, her heart hammering.Had he seen her staring?Of course he had.She was practically pressed against the glass like some desperate voyeur.
Holly retreated to her easel, but concentration was impossible now.Every few minutes, she stared at wall she shared with her mysterious neighbor, hyperaware of the sounds of boxes being moved and furniture arranged.
By the time evening fell, she'd accomplished nothing except spreading more paint on herself than the canvas.She was debating whether to call it a night when a sharp knock echoed through her apartment.
Holly froze, paintbrush halfway to the canvas.She wasn't expecting anyone.Her few friends knew better than to show up unannounced, and delivery drivers always buzzed from the front entrance.
Another knock, more insistent this time.
Setting down her brush, she peered through the peephole.Her new neighbor stood in the hallway, and up close he was even more devastating than she'd thought.Square jaw, full lips, and intense eyes that seemed to see too much.
"Can I help you?"she called through the door.
"I'm Jonah Bauer, your new neighbor."His voice was deep, rough around the edges in a way that sent shivers down her spine."I was hoping I could borrow some sugar."
Her lips parted.Sugar? He didn’t seem the baking type.
Holly glanced down at herself.Her paint-stained tank top and cutoff shorts had seen better days.Not exactly company-ready attire.
But he tweaked her curiosity.And maybe she was tired of being alone with her thoughts and her father's shadow.
She unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open, keeping the chain latch engaged."What are you making?"
His mouth curved, but his eyes were hungry.She felt his gaze right down to her turquoise painted toenails."Coffee.”
“At this hour?”
“I'm a night owl, and I didn't realize I was out until I tried to make some."
"Coffee doesn't need sugar."
"Mine does."
There was a challenge in his tone, like he was daring her to call him on the transparent excuse.Holly responded to that challenge, her curiosity overriding her caution.She closed the door, slipped the chain, and opened it fully.He filled her doorway, six-foot-something of hard male muscle, broad enough to block the hall light.He was too close, too big, too much—and she couldn't move.
"Sugar," she managed."I think I’ve got some around here somewhere."
