want to be put on display, or to help her father win. What she longed for was right in front of her. She wished she had the nerve to tell Owen how she felt. To shed her inhibitions and offer herself to him.
“What if they boo me?” she asked.
“They won’t.”
Penny pressed a palm to her stomach. If she choked, the media would have a field day. If she tripped and fell, the video clip would go viral.
“Try to picture the audience naked,” he said. “I’ve heard it helps.”
She started with him, her eyes trailing down his body. Years ago, she’d seen him bare-chested. He was lean and strong, built more like a runner than a weight lifter. She knew he’d had some of his tattoos removed. She remembered one on his shoulder, a three-leaf clover. It wasn’t quite as offensive as the rest.
“Kiss me,” she said, meeting his gaze. “For luck.”
He stared at her in disbelief. She crossed her fingers and waited, pulse racing. When he realized she was serious, he glanced around to see who was watching. Her grandmother and Cruz were nearby, their backs turned. Her mother studied her cue cards on the other end of the stage, more than a hundred feet away.
She didn’t know if he did it because she asked, or because he wanted to. But he stepped forward and lifted his hand to her face, indulging her request. His fingertips skimmed the side of her neck as he leaned in. She held her breath, longing for a tongue-tangling kiss. At the last second, he moved to the left, brushing his lips over her cheek.
Chaste. Respectful. Distant.
But when he retreated, she saw the heat in his eyes. The want.
After they broke apart, her grandmother approached with Cruz. “Leslie can’t find Raven. I have to go look for her.”
“Cruz can hang out with me,” Owen said.
Penny didn’t challenge the arrangement. Babysitting wasn’t part of Owen’s job, but neither was kissing, and she’d only be onstage for thirty seconds. While her grandmother went to search for Raven, Owen chatted with Cruz, avoiding Penny’s gaze. His expression showed no indication that they’d just shared an intimate moment.
Penny focused on the heavy curtains, her anxiety spiking. An innocent peck on the cheek was the most action she’d had in the past five years. She could still feel his mouth on her skin, his thumb against her throat.
When the production assistant gave her the go signal, she glanced at Owen and Cruz. They both smiled at her encouragingly.
Taking the plunge, she walked out on stage. The crowd stretched into infinity, red signs waving, a blur of excited faces. She continued toward her mark, terrified. Don’t trip. Don’t forget your lines. Smile.
She reached the podium without incident. Gripping its comforting wood edges, she stared at the blinking red light on the center camera, aware that her image was being broadcast on a huge screen behind her.
Smile.
Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. There were no boos or rude remarks. Someone in the far corner whistled, causing a ripple of laughter in the audience. Then her tension eased, and she stopped worrying about flubbing her lines.
She didn’t value the opinion of the bigots in the Freedom Party, a vocal right-wing minority. Let them criticize her wardrobe, her figure or her conduct. The only thing that mattered was getting through the introduction and moving on with her life.
Channeling confidence, she leaned forward to start her introduction. Before she’d uttered a single word, an alarm sounded, splitting the air with high-pitched wails. She stepped away from the microphone, flinching at the loud noise.
The stadium erupted into chaos.
CHAPTER TWO
OWEN HAD NEVER WANTED to be Penny’s bodyguard.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care about her. He’d give his life for her or Cruz in a heartbeat. He had self-defense training, rescue experience and an EMT certificate. After three years in prison, he’d learned how to read tensions in a crowd and anticipate violence. Even his entry-level position at Sierra National Park had been more dangerous than he’d anticipated.
But private security wasn’t his field of interest, and he was a poor candidate for Penny, in particular. He’d had a crush on her for years. It was extremely difficult for him to focus on the surroundings instead of her. He found himself following her every move, studying her body language and facial expressions...imagining them together.
In protective services, getting emotionally involved with a client was a bad idea. Engaging in sexual fantasies about her was downright stupid.
She often tried to draw him into conversations with her, which didn’t help. He was already distracted by her beauty. He liked her voice, her animated gestures, her smile. Her personality was irresistible.
And that kiss. Jesus.
He could get fired for touching her. There were cameras all over the place. If Sandoval heard Owen was sniffing around his daughter, he’d cut him loose without the recommendation Owen desperately needed.
Owen had developed a few coping strategies for keeping his cool around Penny. He avoided eye contact. He memorized her clothing details at a glance. When he had to look at her, he concentrated on her attire, not the body underneath. He treated her like an assignment, blanking his mind of their previous interactions.
It didn’t always work, obviously. He was slipping.
After Penny walked across the stage, Cruz tugged at Owen’s hand, pointing to a dark corner he wanted to explore. Owen might be biased, because he’d helped bring Cruz into this world, but the kid struck him as ridiculously cute. He had Penny’s honey-colored complexion and big brown eyes.
Owen pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head. He couldn’t let the boy wander off. There was a fleet of security personnel at this event, so he didn’t have to monitor the audience, but he had to stay alert.
A second later, an alarm sounded, indicating an emergency that required immediate evacuation.
Penny.
He tightened his grip on Cruz’s hand and strode toward the podium to retrieve her. She was already on her way backstage. As soon as she saw Cruz, she bent down and picked him up, her face tense.
The voice in Owen’s ear told him what to do: find the closest exit. He was familiar with the layout of the building. A production assistant waved a group of people forward. Owen placed his hand on Penny’s shoulder as they skirted around stage and lighting equipment. He looked for Penny’s mother but didn’t see her.
The alarm continued to go off in loud, intermittent blares. He couldn’t hear any more instructions from his boss. Pressing the button on the microphone at his collar, he checked in. “Moving toward the exit,” he said, reciting their code names and basic location.
They spilled out the door into a pavilion on the side of the main building. Audience members were emerging from multiple exits. Most of them headed west, to the area behind the convention center. It offered
