My Bodyguard. Dana Marton

tickled her ear, so she shifted position, setting the hammock swinging again. Shoes crunched gravel underfoot. Roberto was moving on.

      He seemed to be an important member of Cavanaugh’s security team. He was always visible, always watching, making his rounds. He seemed to take himself as seriously as if he were part of the Secret Service.

      Sam lifted her head and looked around. “Should I try to get back in now?”

      “Not tonight.” Reese sat with her. “It might look too suspicious if we got caught loitering this close to the house twice in the same night. We have the whole week to get what we want. Let’s not blow anything the first day.”

      She slipped out of the hammock and he came after her, looped his arms around her waist. She made herself relax against him and held the pose, allowing him time to check for any danger.

      None of Cavanaugh’s men were in sight.

      “Let’s go down to the beach,” he said as he broke away and took her hand. “We’ll see what we can find out about Philippe from his friends.”