Bodyguard. Lori Foster

couldn’t allow her to be manhandled. He pushed himself away from the doorway and started forward. The men were obviously drunk. One of them was doing his best to pull her close, but she kept sidestepping him. Judd approached them all with a casual air.

      “Here now, boys.” He kept his tone low and deep, deliberately commanding. “Why don’t you leave the lady alone.”

      Judd could see her trembling, could see the paleness of her face in the yellow light of the street lamp. The man didn’t release her; if anything, he tightened his grip. “Go to hell.”

      The words were slurred, and Judd wondered just how drunk they were. They might believe him to be a cop, but in this neighborhood, being a law enforcement officer carried very little clout and regularly drew vicious disdain. Damn.

      He couldn’t get into a brawl—he might literally lose his pants. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy knocking some heads together, but still…. Where was a real uniformed cop when you needed one?

      He turned his gaze on the woman. “Do you want their company?”

      She swallowed, her throat working convulsively. “No.”

      One of the men shook his fist in Judd’s face, stumbling drunkenly as he did so. “She’s already made a deal with us.” The man grinned stupidly at the woman, then added, “You can’t expect a little thing like her to run around here without a weapon to protect herself…”

      One of the other men slugged the speaker. “Shut up, you fool.”

      Judd went very still, scrutinizing the woman’s face. “Well?”

      Again, she swallowed. “Well…what?”

      “Why do you need a weapon? You planning to kill someone?” Whisper-soft, his question still demanded an immediate answer.

      Shaking her head, then looking around as if desperately seeking a means of escape, she managed to pique his interest. He couldn’t walk away now. Whatever she was up to, she didn’t want him to know. Because she thought he was a cop?

      Disgusted, Judd propped his hands on his hips, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “Do you want the company of these men or not?”

      She peered cautiously at the drunken, leering face so close to her own. Her lips tightened in disapproval and disdain. “Ah…no. Not particularly.”

      A genuine smile tipped his mouth before he caught himself. She had gumption, he’d give her that. She was no bigger than a ten-year-old sickly kid. The coat she wore practically swallowed her up. She was fine-boned, petite, and everything about her seemed fragile. “There you go, fellas. The lady doesn’t find you to her liking. Turn her loose and go find something else to do.”

      “I got somethin’ to do already.” Her captor’s hold seemed to loosen just a bit as he spoke, and taking advantage, she suddenly jerked free. Then she did the dumbest thing Judd had ever seen. She sent her knee into the man’s groin.

      Unbelievable. Judd shook his head, even as he yanked her behind him, trying to protect her from the ensuing chaos. He couldn’t do any real damage to the men without attracting more spectators, which would threaten his cover. And the woman was gasping behind him, scared out of her wits from the sound of it. But damn it all, he definitely did not want to lose his pants out here scuffling in the middle of the sidewalk with common drunks. One of the men started to throw a punch.

      Judd cursed loudly as the woman ran around him, evidently not as frightened as he’d thought, and leaped onto his attacker’s back. She couldn’t weigh over a hundred pounds, but she wound her fingers in the man’s hair and pulled with all her might.

      Enough was enough. A glimpse at his watch told him it was time for his performance. Judd grabbed the man away from her and sent him reeling with a firm kick to the rear end, then stalked the other two, every muscle in his body tensed. Too drunk to persist in their efforts, the men scurried away.

      Judd turned to face the woman, and she was…tidying her hair? Good God, was she nuts? He saw her look toward her canvas bag, which now lay in a puddle on the sidewalk, but she made no move to retrieve it.

      “You don’t want your bag?” he asked with all the sarcasm he could muster.

      “Oh.” She glanced at him. “Well, of course…” She made a move in its direction, but he shook his head. He could see more raggedy clothing falling out the opening, and if there was one thing this woman didn’t need, it was hand-me-downs.

      He took her arm in a firm but gentle hold, ignoring her resistance, and started her toward the bar. He automatically moved her to his right side, bringing her between his body and the building, protecting her from passersby. He held his temper for all of about three seconds, then gave up the effort.

      “Of all the stupid, harebrained…lady, what the hell did you think you were doing back there?” He wondered if she could be a journalist, or a TV newswoman? She damn well wasn’t used to living in alleys, or going without. Everything about her screamed money. Even now, with him hustling her down the sidewalk, she had a certain grace, a definite poise, that didn’t come from being underprivileged.

      She glanced up at him, and he noticed she smelled nice, too. Not heavily perfumed like the women in the bar, just…very feminine. Her wavy shoulder-length hair, a light brown that looked as baby soft as her eyes, bounced as he hurried her along. She was practically running, but he couldn’t help that. He was going to be late. He could hear the music for his number starting. Taking off his clothes in public was bad enough. He didn’t intend to make a grand entrance by jumping in late.

      She cleared her throat. “I appreciate your assistance, Officer.”

      Without slowing his pace, he glared at her. “Answer my question. Who are you? What the hell are you up to?”

      “That’s two questions.”

      He growled, his patience at an end. “Answer me, dammit!”

      She stumbled, then glared up at him defiantly. “That’s really none of your business.”

      Everything inside his body clenched. “I’m making it my business.”

      Digging in her heels as he tried to haul her through the front door, she forced him to slow down. She was wide-eyed again and he noticed her mouth was hanging open as he dragged her into the bar. “What are you doing?”

      There was a note of shrill panic in her voice as she took in her surroundings. Judd had no time to explain, and no time to consider her delicate sensibilities. Everyone in this part of town thought of him as a money-hungry, oversexed, willing exhibitionist—Clayton Donner included. It was a necessary cover and one he wasn’t ready to forfeit. Donner would show up again soon, and once he decided Judd was a familiar face in the area, the gun dealer would make his move. It would happen. He’d make it happen.

      Still gripping her arm, Judd trotted her toward the nearest bar stool. “Stay right here.” He stared down at her, trying to intimidate her with his blackest scowl. The music was picking up tempo, signaling his cue.

      She popped right back off the seat, those eyes of hers accurately portraying her shock. “Now see here! I have no intention of waiting—”

      He picked her up, dropped her onto the stool again, then called to the bartender. “Keep her here, Freddie. Make certain she doesn’t budge.”

      Freddie, a huge, jovial sort with two front teeth missing, grinned and nodded. “What’d she do?”

      “She owes me. Big. Keep your eye on her.”

      “And if she tries to pike it?”

      Judd gave Freddie a conspiratorial wink. “Make her sorry if she so much as flinches.”

      Freddie looked ferocious, but Judd knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly. That was the reason they had not one, but two bouncers on the premises. But the little lady didn’t know that, and Judd wanted to find out exactly what she was up to. Gut instinct told him he wouldn’t like what