Soldier Bodyguard. Lisa Childs

known him better than anyone else ever had. Or so he’d thought.

      Maybe she’d married another man because she had known how much it would hurt him. And she’d wanted to hurt him like he had hurt her.

      “My family is the Payne Protection Agency,” he said. “I served with them.” On the battlefield and on the bodyguard frontlines. He wasn’t talking just about his former unit but about Nikki and the rest of the Payne family who’d embraced him and his friends like their own.

      “So that’s why you didn’t say no?” she asked. “Because you couldn’t let them down?”

      He heard the bitterness and resentment in her voice. Did she still hate him for breaking up with her? Even after all these years, even after she’d found happiness with another man? Of course that happiness was over now.

      Emery Little was dead.

      And Cole needed to find out why. Had the killer really intended Shawna as the target? If so, she was in serious danger. “You need a bodyguard,” he pointed out. “Even your daughter is worried about you.”

      “I’m okay with having a bodyguard,” she said. “To make Maisy feel more secure. But I don’t want that bodyguard to be you.”

      “Why not?” he asked.

      “You know why,” she said.

      But he shook his head. “You got married. You had a kid. You moved on.”

      “But I never got over...”

      His heart flipped in his chest. Had she never gotten over him—just as he had never really gotten over her?

      “...what you said,” she finished. “When you broke up with me, you told me that you couldn’t play hero anymore to my damsel in distress. That there were people in real danger who needed you.”

      He barely remembered what he’d told her then. He’d just needed to make her mad enough to agree to the breakup. Again, mission accomplished.

      “You told me that I had to grow up and finally learn to take care of myself for once.” Her face was flushed now and her eyes were bright with anger.

      Cole’s own temper flared now. “And instead of listening to me, you married some other guy within weeks of our breakup, so that he could take care of you!”

      “You son of a bitch!” she cursed him.

      He’d been called that before—by his own father. Coleman hadn’t been insulting him, though. He’d been insulting his wife. Cole’s parents had hated each other that much. That was another reason Cole never should have proposed to Shawna. He had no idea how to have a successful marriage. His parents’ had been a disaster. And none of his grandfather’s three marriages had lasted. His uncles had certainly not set good examples for him either.

      He didn’t argue with Shawna’s assessment of him. He couldn’t.

      She turned and ran toward the doors—that at some point somebody must have closed. She fumbled with them before cursing again and sliding them open just wide enough for her to slip out into the hall.

      Cole shouldn’t have said what he had—six years ago or now.

      Especially not now.

      She had just lost her husband in what had probably been an attempt on her life. Her life was in danger. Remembering that no matter what she said he was supposed to be protecting her, he rushed toward the doors. He pushed them open the rest of the way and stumbled out into the hall.

      But she was gone.

      Where had she gone?

      Shawna dragged in a deep breath as she stepped outside. The sweet, acrid scent of cigars filled her lungs, making her cough and sputter. She found the butt of a cigar, the tip still glowing, lying beside the steps leading out the back door of the garage.

      So this was where Xavier came to smoke. Of course if she confronted him, the old codger would probably blame the chauffeur. And Astin, being as loyal as he was, would willingly cover for him.

      Xavier charmed everyone—even her—into doing what he wanted. That was why Cole was here. It wasn’t because he cared about her; he’d made his opinion of her abundantly clear six years ago and again just now in the library.

      She wasn’t the helpless female he had accused her of being, though. She hadn’t married Emery to protect her. She’d married Emery to protect Maisy. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know her child was a Bentler, hadn’t wanted to subject a baby to the resentment and anger Cole had endured.

      And because she wanted to protect Maisy, Shawna would agree to have a bodyguard. Anyone but Cole, though. Her superhero when they were kids. And as a Marine, decorated for his heroism, he had also been a superhero. Why had he changed with her?

      Why had he become as cruel as the people from whom he’d once protected her when they were kids? What had she done to him?

      Sure, she’d married Emery, but that had been only after he’d broken their engagement and her heart. She never would have stopped loving him, if he hadn’t stopped loving her first.

      He still affected her. Even after all these years—even after how much he’d hurt her, he still affected her physically. Emotionally. Passionately.

      She wanted to feel nothing. She wanted to be numb—like she had been when she’d gone into shock after the explosion, after she’d realized what had happened to Emery.

      Poor Emery.

      She blinked back tears. She needed to get back inside, back to mourning her husband and best friend. But she didn’t want to see Cole again. She doubted he had left despite being told she didn’t want him as her bodyguard. But it wouldn’t matter even if he had left. She would still see him—as she saw him all the time—in her mind.

      Sometimes he was the boy who’d rescued her and protected her. Sometimes he was the man who’d taught her about love and passion. And sometimes he was the monster who’d broken her heart.

      She tensed as she thought of him, but it wasn’t with just anger. She realized that in her haste to get away from him she had stepped outside alone. If she was in real danger, that wasn’t the smartest idea.

      And while she would rather not believe that bomb had been meant for her, it had been in her car. Not Emery’s...

      She shivered now as a cold chill raised goose bumps along her skin. Her black dress had long sleeves, but it was lightweight material. She needed a sweater. Hell, she needed to be back inside—with people.

      With Maisy...

      Pushing open the service door, she stepped back into the garage. The lights that had been on moments ago were off. Had she accidentally flipped them off as she’d walked out? But when she touched the switches, she found them facing up already. Turning them the other way didn’t do anything.

      Had the power gone out?

      There was no storm raging outside. That was only inside her—in her head and in her heart—from having to deal with Cole and her grief. She couldn’t even hear the wind blowing outside. But she could hear something else...

      The garage had several stalls, and Xavier had a car in each. It sounded as if the engines of several of them were running now. Why?

      Distracted, she stumbled against the rear bumper of one of the vehicles and struck her knee. Pain radiated up her leg, and a cry slipped through her lips. It was so dark without the lights.

      She could barely remember which direction led to the house. The garage was attached to the French provincial mansion. That was why she’d rushed into it—because it had been close. She probably should have gone outside instead, like onto the expansive back patio or the wide front porch or the balcony on the second story.

      But as desperate as she’d been for air, she hadn’t wanted to see anyone else. Or more important, she hadn’t wanted anyone