Her Lieutenant Protector. Lara Lacombe

two members of my team. This is Wesley Tatum, my right-hand man.” He gestured to the stocky, dark-haired man on the right, who acknowledged her with a nod. “If you ever need anything and you can’t get me, Wesley is your man.” Everest then turned to the second man, a tall redhead with kind brown eyes. “And this is Taylor Higgins, one of the newest members of my team.”

      Taylor smiled and offered his hand. Mallory’s stomach turned over, and she hesitated. He was only being polite, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch him.

      “Ah, I’d better not,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t washed my hands yet. Don’t want to spread anything around.” It was a weak excuse, but it was the best she could do. She glanced over to find Everest watching her, the look in his eyes far too knowing. Did the man miss anything?

      If he was curious about her refusal to shake Taylor’s hand, he didn’t mention it. Instead, Everest turned back to his men and briefed them on the situation. “Wesley, I need you to go check out the room. I’m sure it’s probably nothing, but I want to be able to assure the captain we’ve followed up on everything.”

      Wesley nodded, apparently unfazed by the order to search a guest’s cabin for a dead body trapped in the wall. Maybe it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d ever done in his line of work. Mallory certainly understood there were some odd things that happened on cruise ships. Or maybe Wesley’s immediate acceptance of Everest’s order came more from his respect for his boss. She studied Everest as he spoke to his team, noting the way he laid out a clear, concise plan and made it sound like he had every confidence his employees would succeed. It was no wonder he was the head of security for the ship—his manner seemed to inspire loyalty and trust, and even though he wasn’t asking these men to do anything terribly difficult or dangerous, Mallory had no doubt their reaction would have been the same if he’d proposed they storm a bunker carrying only water pistols for protection.

      “Taylor, I’d like you to stay here and keep an eye on these two. Make sure they don’t cause any more trouble for the medical staff.”

      The young man nodded eagerly, clearly excited for his first assignment on the ship. He reminded Mallory of a puppy, and she glanced discreetly at the seat of his pants, half expecting to find a wagging tail protruding from his slacks.

      “And you, sir?” asked Wesley.

      “I’m going to brief the captain. Any questions or issues, you can reach me on channel three.”

      The men nodded, and Wesley walked over to Jeff’s side, where he proceeded to search the man’s pockets, presumably for his room key. Taylor took up a post between the two beds and assumed a parade rest stance. Mallory wondered if he planned to stand all night, or if he’d relax enough to sit down.

      Everest’s voice cut into her musings. “You have my pager number?”

      “I think so—we have a form by the phone with contact information listed for various people.” Mallory waved a hand in the direction of the wall-mounted unit where she’d seen the information sheet posted. She hadn’t checked lately, but she was willing to bet Everest’s number was on it.

      Everest frowned. “Let me give you my personal cell number, as well.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and snagged a pen off the table. “If anything comes up, don’t hesitate to call me.” He passed her the card, and Mallory tucked it away. The paper was still warm from his body, and she felt the heat of it through the cotton of her pants. It was an odd sensation, this almost-contact between them.

      “I think we’re in for a quiet night now, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

      He nodded and turned to go. For some reason, Mallory was reluctant to see him leave, and she called out before she could think twice about it. “Hey.”

      He turned back, one eyebrow lifted in silent question.

      Great, now what? “Um,” she stalled, her self-consciousness threatening to swamp her. “I want to thank you. For being here.”

      The corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. “I didn’t do anything. You had things well under control.”

      Mallory felt her cheeks heat and hoped her blush wasn’t too obvious. “Well, I still appreciate your backing me up.”

      “It was my pleasure,” he said. A spark of heat flared in his blue eyes, and Mallory was shocked to feel an answering tingle in her stomach. “Like I said, call me anytime.”

      Was there a hint of innuendo in his voice? Mallory dismissed the possibility almost instantly; Everest seemed far too professional for that. Even so, she felt a little wistful at the thought that he might flirt with her. She was quite out of practice as far as dating went, but the idea of spending more time with Everest was...appealing.

      “I will,” she replied. God, did he hear the quaver in her voice? Get it together! She was turning into a mess, and all because the man in front of her had somehow slipped past her defenses. But there wasn’t time for her to worry about that now. She’d think about it later, when she was in the privacy of her own room.

      Everest turned and walked out of the sick bay, closing the door quietly behind him. The room seemed to deflate with his exit, another sign that he’d gotten under her skin.

      Part of her wanted to celebrate; this was the first time in years she’d felt any kind of attraction to a man. She was curious to see how it would develop. Of course, there was no guarantee he had noticed her in that way, and perhaps that was for the best. If her attraction was one-sided, she could indulge in a little crush without having to worry about getting hurt. This might turn out to be a great opportunity to shake the dust off her emotions and finally put the rape behind her, once and for all. If she could see herself with Everest, she was one step closer to having a real relationship someday.

      But the small, scared girl inside wanted to slam the door on any kind of attraction. It wasn’t worth the risk. He was a physically powerful man—tall, broad-shouldered, his hands large enough to wrap around her arm in a painful grip. And she’d seen the evidence of his muscles earlier in the gym and knew he was in excellent shape. If he decided to hurt her, she wouldn’t stand a chance.

      “Dr. Watkins?”

      She shook her head slightly and focused on the nurse in front of her, grateful for the distraction. “Yes?”

      The woman launched into a question regarding drug dosages for Jeff and his friend, and a sense of calm descended as Mallory turned her thoughts back to work. Medicine was her refuge, and no matter how upset or emotional she felt, tending to patients was a surefire way to push the reset button on her inner turmoil.

      For now, anyway.

      * * *

      Wesley slipped into the room and was immediately assaulted with the stale, slightly sweet stench of weed. Apparently, Jeff and his buddy hadn’t limited themselves to only one drug tonight...

      Sure enough, two fat stubs lay discarded on top of the built-in dresser amid a scatter of pills. He poked at the display with his fingertip, searching for any marks that would indicate what the different-colored pills were. The blue ones were easy enough—the star shape stamped onto the surface made it clear he was looking at ecstasy. But the oblong white pills and the yellow tablets sported no such identifiers. He scooped a few into an empty plastic baggie and tucked it into his pocket. Maybe the doctor could figure out what these were. If not, the police in Jacksonville would probably know.

      He glanced around, a sense of disgust rising in his chest as he took in the mess. Two open suitcases sat on the desk, vomiting clothes onto the floor. Towels sat in damp piles on the bed and the recliner, and empty beer cans littered almost every horizontal surface.

      Wesley shook his head. The Abigail Adams was a premier ship, and what she lacked in size, she made up for in luxury. How had these two classless idiots gotten on board?

      Mommy and Daddy, he thought, taking in the expensive watches lying on the bedside table, the designer sunglasses tossed on the floor, and the roll of cash peeking