One had just returned from a harrowing assignment that required him to spend several days piloting a desperate senior citizen through Florida swamps in an ultimately successful attempt to avoid his vengeful heirs, eager to collect sooner rather than later.
The other was brand-new, bright eyed and bushy tailed; he had just signed on and trained and was waiting for his first assignment.
She flipped open his folder. Jed Kelby, thirty-three. Heir to a winery in California’s Napa Valley. Six years an officer in the U.S. Marine Corps. Might have made a military career if his father hadn’t died, requiring his presence at home. When his younger brother had stepped forward to take over Kelby-Linus Wines, Jed had looked around for something to do that might offer a little adventure.
Samantha, who’d known the senior Kelby in the wild days of her youth, had been taken aback when Jed knocked on her door one day and asked for a job. Not that she’d found anything wrong with his credentials; far from it. The tall—six foot two—Jed, with his straight, short dark hair and piercing eyes, was a true poster Marine. He was eager for the opportunity and ready to work hard to deserve it.
Still, she’d had reservations that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe it was that he seemed too good to be true, too much a straight arrow. People in Sam’s business sometimes had to stretch a point or two, without being told officially that they should. If she had one real concern about Jed, it was that he might be too much by the book and not innovative enough to protect his life and that of his charge.
Would it be fair to make his first charge a man-eater like Sharlayne Kenyon?
“YOU’VE BEEN ASKING for it, sweetheart, and you’re about to get it—a chance to prove yourself.”
Jed’s pulse picked up, but he held himself at ease. “What’s the job?” he asked casually, as if it didn’t matter.
“Guarding a beautiful woman.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Someone everybody knows. You have heard of Sharlayne Kenyon?”
“Jeez.” He sucked in his breath. “What is it? Kidnapping threat? Blackmail? Stalker?”
Samantha laughed, but he didn’t think she looked entirely comfortable. “None of the above. She’s tired. She wants someone to fend off the press and public so she can get some rest.”
“She wants—” He stared at his boss, in the grip of bitter disappointment. “You’ve been saving me for this?”
“You might be the only man in America who’d object to being cooped up with Sharlayne Kenyon for a few weeks. Just don’t get too cocksure, okay?”
“Cocksure about what?”
“About your ability to treat her like just another client. Of course, that’d be a stretch for you, since she’ll be your first client.”
“If that’s your subtle way of telling me to keep my hands off, save your breath. I’m a professional.” He grimaced. “Okay, a new professional, but everybody starts somewhere.”
Sam nodded as if satisfied…or resigned. “Just remember the rules according to me. Thou shalt not get involved with thy client. It can get thee both killed.”
He gave her a thumbs-up. “I got it, Boss. Don’t give it another thought.” He grinned, determined to make the best of the task. “From what I hear, she’s too old for me anyway.”
Samantha’s great guffaw rocked the room. “Oh, you fool!” But she said it affectionately. “You don’t know women like this one. She’ll chew you up and spit you out if you’re not careful.”
“Naw,” he scoffed, “not me. I’m not a skirt chaser.”
“No,” she agreed, “what you are is an idiot if you try to match hormones with an adventuress like Sharlayne Kenyon. But what the hell. Boys have to grow up someday.”
She opened the file, all business again. “Now, here’s the deal…”
CHAPTER TWO
Sharlayne update:
Sharlayne Kenyon’s gone into hiding at her glamorous new digs in Beverly Hills, where, according to the smart money, she’s working on her autobiography. Half the rich and/or handsome men in California are expected to head for the hills, should this prove to be true….
Gina Godfrey, U.S. Eye
JED CALLED HOME Thursday before leaving for Los Angeles. He’d be driving down from the agency headquarters in San Francisco in his old Ford pickup, only a six-or seven-hour trek. Before he left, he figured he should tell his family where they could reach him.
His brother, Steve, answered. After the usual chitchat—they needed rain, Mom was still flitting around Europe with Aunt Margaret, their sister Dana was expecting her second kid in the fall—Jed finally got around to the reason for his call.
“Hey, great, man,” Steve said enthusiastically.
“I know you’ve just been waiting for that first assignment. Who and what?”
“I’ll be guarding Sharlayne Kenyon.”
“Say that again?”
“Sharlayne—”
“Jeez! You mean the one who’s been married about a dozen times? The one who’s been in movies and magazines and—”
“That’s the one, all right,” Jed confirmed dryly.
“You always did have all the luck.”
That surprised Jed, who didn’t think he ever had any luck. “How so?” he challenged.
“You’re gonna be guarding one of the most famous bodies in America. That’s not luck?”
“I’m guarding it, not making moves on it.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Steve, she must be ten years older than I am.” He figured the photos in his briefcase must have been taken fifteen years ago and extensively retouched.
“Fifteen years older and twenty years smarter,” Steve shot back.
“You think so? Look, little brother, guarding some flighty celebrity isn’t my idea of a plum assignment.”
“Everybody’s got to start somewhere, my man.”
“That’s what I figure, so I intend to make the best of it. The body of Sharlayne What’s-Her-Name will be guarded like never before, but that’s all—guarded. This is strictly business.”
“Knowing you, I believe it.” Steve sounded disgusted. “Good old straight-arrow Jed.” He sighed. “If it were me…”
“It’s not. If you need me, use my cell phone number. I’ll be at her place in L.A.—Beverly Hills, Bel Air, wherever.”
