The Bride's Bodyguard. Beth Cornelison

we’ll miss our plane.”

      Jake opened the back door for Paige, and she climbed into the car. Once they were settled in the sedan, Paige and Jake listened to the older couple regale them with stories of the mishaps from their wedding fifty-two years ago and many of the disagreements since.

      As they approached town, their elderly driver turned from the main road onto a side street that led into a residential area.

      “Henry, where are you going? This isn’t the right way!” the woman fussed.

      “It’s a shortcut.”

      Henry’s wife harrumphed. “Shortcut, my fanny. Shortcut is your term for lost. Turn around and go back to the highway.”

      Paige sent Jake a worried side glance, and he lifted a corner of his mouth in amusement before returning his attention to the middle-class houses they passed.

      “I’m not lost. Stop worrying,” Henry returned.

      “That’s what you always say. I’m telling you—”

      “Wait a minute,” Jake interrupted, spotting a for-sale sign in one of the front yards. “Stop here.”

      Henry stomped the brakes, and the sedan stopped with a lurch. “Something wrong?”

      Paige gave Jake a curious look.

      “I just remembered that a friend of mine lives on this street.” He opened the car door and tugged on Paige’s hand. “We’ll go to his house, use his phone to call the airline, arrange for a tow truck and so forth.” He tugged harder on his “bride’s” hand, encouraging her compliance. “We appreciate the ride, folks.”

      “I can—” their driver started, then fumbled, as Jake hauled Paige’s suitcase from the backseat. “Well, all right. Good luck, kids.”

      Jake gave the couple a friendly wave as they drove away, then faced Paige’s confused scowl. “You don’t have a friend in this neighborhood at all. Do you?”

      “No.”

      “Then why did we get out?”

      “Because I found a place for us to lay low until we can regroup and plan our next move.” Jake lifted her suitcase and headed across the street to the small Acadian-style house with the Realtor’s sign in the front yard.

      Paige grabbed his arm. “Hang on a minute. Where are—?” Her gaze darted to the for-sale sign then back to him. He could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Whoa! You are not thinking about breaking into this house, are you?”

      “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. There are newspapers in the driveway, the grass hasn’t been mowed. It’s obvious the house is vacant.”

      He jogged to the backyard, and Paige stumbled to keep up. “I don’t care if it’s vacant! It’s still breaking and entering. I won’t do it!”

      Pulling a small army knife from his pocket, Jake got to work jimmying the lock on the back door. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be picky about your accommodations, princess.”

      She grabbed his wrist as he worked, and he met her fiery glare. “Who died and made you boss of me?”

      His jaw clenched. “Scofield.”

      Paige drew back with a gasp as if slapped. The wounded look in her eyes burrowed to his marrow.

      “I’m sorry.” He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “That was uncalled for.” Jake squeezed her shoulder and drilled her with a stare that brooked no resistance. “I don’t like the idea of breaking the law any more than you do, but this house is the safest cover we have right now. We’re not here to rob it or deface it. In fact, we’ll leave it better than we found it. We’ll clean up the yard before we go, so it doesn’t scream ‘vacant’ anymore.”

      With a last wiggle of his blade, the lock popped, and the door swung open. “After you.”

      Paige hesitated, glaring at him with righteous indignation. “This isn’t right. We could go to a hotel.”

      Jake struggled to keep his cool. “Nothing about this situation is right. But we can’t fix anything if we’re dead and, for now, this house is our best chance to stay alive. By now, those thugs have every hotel within a hundred miles under surveillance or on their radar in some way. I’m not willing to risk being spotted at a hotel.” He planted a hand at the small of her back and nudged her inside. “Now get in before the neighbors see us and call the cops.”

      Pressing her lips in a tight line of discontent, Paige stamped into the house. When she reached for the light switch, he caught her hand.

      “A vacant house wouldn’t have lights on. We can’t give any indication we’re here.”

      Beneath his fingers, her pulse fluttered at her wrist. Her gaze clashed with his, and he felt an answering kick of adrenaline in his veins. The anger sparking in her eyes and flushing her cheeks made her even more beautiful. He suppressed the urge to plow his fingers through the thick tresses of raven hair swirling around her shoulders.

      “So we’re just supposed to sit here in the dark?” She turned her attention to the empty room, then back to him. “There isn’t even any furniture.”

      “Sorry, princess. Five-star accommodations aren’t always possible when you’re on the run.”

      “Stop calling me princess like that,” she said through gritted teeth.

      He arched an eyebrow, more amused by her temper than put off by it. “Like what?”

      “Like you think I’m some pampered diva.”

      “Aren’t you?”

      She growled and snatched her wrist from his grip. “Can I at least use my cell phone to call my family and make sure they’re safe? Let them know I’m all right?”

      Jake rolled the tension from his shoulders, knowing how his answer wouldn’t be received. “No. Cell phones can be tracked. In fact…give me your phone. We have to get rid of it.”

      Paige sputtered, her eyes wide. “Get rid—But all my contacts are on—”

      He seized her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “Listen to me, and listen good. You saw what those men were capable of. This is no game. I can keep you alive and help you figure out what is going on, what you have that they want, but you have to trust me. You have to do what I tell you without question. All right? ”

      She opened her mouth, but immediately snapped it shut again. Fear and defeat crossed her face, and her muscles slackened beneath his hands. When she nodded her understanding, instead of feeling he’d won her cooperation, he felt a sense of loss.

      “Where’s your phone?”

      She pointed to the floral suitcase. “In my purse. I packed it for safekeeping during the ceremony and reception.”

      He lay the suitcase flat on the floor and opened it. He handed her the handbag that had been tucked in one corner, and Paige fished her cell phone out. With an irritated huff, she handed the phone to him. He tucked the phone in his pocket and strode to the empty living room. After glancing out the front window, he lowered the blinds. “I’m going back out to get us a few things for tonight. Clothes for me. Food. Cash for later. I’ll pick up a prepaid phone while I’m out, and you can use it to call your family. Okay?”

      “Aren’t you afraid you’ll be seen?”

      He scoffed. “Give me some credit. I’m a SEAL. I know how to avoid being spotted.”

      Paige wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her bare elbows, despite the stuffy heat inside the house. “What am I supposed to do?”

      “Stay out of sight. And try to think what you have, what Scofield might have given you or hidden in your suitcase that terrorists would want. Make a list of everything