Tempted By The Bodyguard. Elle James

low in her belly ache for something she had never ached for in the past.

      Sure, she’d had her share of experimenting with sex with men her own age, but none of them seemed as raw and dangerous as Daniel.

      After she’d cleaned her body with scented soap, she scrubbed her hair with herbal-scented shampoo, applied conditioner, rinsed and climbed out of the shower.

      The tub full of water and bubbles called to her, the soft-scented bath salts filling the air with subtle fragrance. What would it hurt to soak for a while? After being tied to a chair for the better part of the past two weeks, stretching out in warm, perfumed water sounded like pure heaven.

      Wrapping her hair in a large fluffy towel, she pressed the button on the side of the tub that activated the jets lining the sides. The water roiled, creating more bubbles. Shelby slid into the warm water and stretched her legs along the bottom of the tub, positioning herself in front of strategic jets and redistributing the bubbles to cover herself should anyone walk in uninvited.

      Again, her core tightened and throbbed.

      If she called out from the bathroom, would Daniel hear her through two doors? Her nipples peaked through the bubbles. Why couldn’t she get the man off her mind? Daniel had told her he wasn’t thrilled with his assignment. He obviously wasn’t interested in her or the fact that she was naked in the room beside his.

      Shelby lay still, letting the jets and warm water do their thing to relax her and let the soreness of two weeks of captivity leach from her muscles. With her eyes closed, she pushed all thoughts out of her head except for the amazing way her body felt. She leaned back and let go of a long sigh.

      Moments later, sleep claimed her and she slipped into the nightmare.

      She was back in the parking lot at the college, juggling her books to get her key out. Dark figures floated out of the trees and surrounded her, shoving her into the dark interior of a van.

      A hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream. She struggled, but couldn’t break the hold on her arms. Shelby kicked out, but only hit air and water.

      Her mouth and nose covered by meaty fingers, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get air to her lungs and felt herself blacking out.

      A moan rose up her throat. One of the men backhanded her cheek. Another moan escaped and she thrashed, trying to break the hold on her.

      Then strong arms scooped her up and carried her away from the van.

      She fought the arms, kicking, struggling, desperate to get away and back to her grandfather.

      “Shh…it’s okay,” a deep male voice whispered into her ear. “Open your eyes, Shelby.”

      “It won’t help. It’s dark,” she muttered.

      The arms lowered her into a bed so soft, she felt as if she floated on clouds. It wrapped around her, warming her wet body.

      “Shelby, open your eyes.” A hand smoothed across her cheek.

      She winced, afraid of being hit again. “My eyes are open,” she insisted.

      “No, they’re not,” the voice said. A thumb brushed gently across her eyelid. “Look at me.”

      Shelby blinked, her eyelids fluttering. Light filtered through her lashes as she focused on the face leaning over her. She wasn’t in the parking lot of the university, but in a bed. She’d fallen asleep.

      A glow from behind illuminated the highlights in his dark blond hair. Moss-green eyes stared down at her and he wore a gentle smile on his face. “See? You’re safe. You were having a bad dream.”

      She leaned her face into his shoulder, breathing in the clean scent of his shirt. Her hands pressed into the solid wall of his chest and she felt safe and protected.

      He held her, his warm hand stroking her back, skin against skin. After a while he stiffened and set her away from him. “This isn’t a good idea.”

      Without his warm chest to lean against, a cool air-conditioned breeze brushed across her skin and she glanced down. The remaining fog of sleep whipped away and she pushed to a sitting position. “Holy hell, I’m naked!” She grabbed the comforter and pulled it up over her body. “Explain yourself,” she demanded in the commanding tone she only used when she had to evict a rowdy customer from the bar.

      The bodyguard chuckled, straightened and stood. “Let’s get something straight, little girl—I never explain myself.” He trailed a finger along the curve of her shoulder. “You might want to dry off with a towel. And next time you take a bath while recovering from a concussion, don’t fall asleep. I’ll do my best to protect you from bad guys, but unless you want me to be with you in your bathtub, I can’t always protect you from drowning.”

      Daniel retreated to his room. As soon as he closed the door between them, he heard a soft whomp against the door. Probably a thrown pillow. He smiled.

      “I’m not a little girl!” she shouted, the sound muffled by the door.

      No, she wasn’t a little girl. When he’d carried her wet, sexy body to the bed, he’d been more than aware of that fact. And he was glad he’d left her mad instead of terrified, as she’d been when he’d found her, thrashing in the tub, splashing water over the sides, deep in a nightmare.

      She must have been reliving her kidnapping and captivity. Kept in a basement in the dark for two weeks had to have played hell with her mind, not knowing who was holding her, what they had planned for her or if she’d ever see her family again.

      Lucy, Thad’s nurse fiancée, had been to his room, removed the pieces of shrapnel lodged in his back and applied antiseptic ointment.

      He’d just dressed after showering off the stench of smoke from the day before, when he’d heard her soft moans. At first, he’d thought the sound was the wind in the trees. When the moans continued and grew louder, he’d pushed through the connecting door, afraid she was under attack again and that he wouldn’t get to her in time to save her.

      He’d run into the bathroom and found her caught in a terrifying dream after having fallen asleep in the bath. He’d reached in and scooped her out, holding her naked body against his.

      She’d fought, kicking and wiggling, her breasts rubbing against his knuckles, her thighs straining against his hold, and he’d been so turned on by the sight of her body he could barely walk with her into the bedroom and lay her on the bed.

      When he should have set her down and walked away, he couldn’t. He’d stayed, holding her, his pants growing tighter by the minute.

      Then she’d leaned into his chest, pressing her breasts against his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric, holding him hostage.

      Hell, he’d wanted to strip down and climb onto the bed with her.

      Daniel paced the length of his room, his leg aching, the walls seeming to close in around him. He wasn’t cut out to be a bodyguard to a woman like Shelby. The Secret Service was his life. He’d been all about the job, training hard, putting his life on the line daily. But this… Being with her constantly would only create more problems. He had to get Kate to see reason, assign someone else. Anyone but him.

      His mind made up, Daniel unbuttoned the damp white dress shirt and ripped it from his shoulders, the scent of Shelby still clinging to him. How could he protect a woman he wanted to kiss, hold and make love to? She’d keep him distracted every moment of every day.

      He pulled a black polo shirt over his head and tucked it into his pants. Then he marched toward the door and threw it open.

      Patrick O’Hara walked toward him, his face drawn and haggard. When he spied Daniel, he smiled. “Mr. Henderson.”

      “Daniel,” he said. “Call me Daniel.”

      Patrick held out