Page 4

Chapter Three

Knox was up again before the sun. His short night had been interrupted by a text message from headquarters about the bridge incident.

The owner of the vehicle involved reported it stolen two days ago. Thanks to Knox and the research team, local police recovered the sporty crossover a few miles away from the bridge, parked on the street in an older neighborhood.

Rookie mistake or an intentional choice? The jury was still out.

The collective assumption was that the driver had abandoned the vehicle as soon as the attempt to rattle—or harm—Harper failed.

None of this made sense to Knox.

Who in her orbit would have the guts to steal a car? Much less the skill. And why would any of her associates choose that kind of scare tactic? The actions didn’t line up with anyone she regularly interacted with. Though they continued digging, they had yet to find a single friend or business connection with ties to known criminals.

There was a first time for everything, of course. Hiring someone to do the unsavory task was logical, but where was the motive? Who could possibly be that pissed off with her?

With still more questions than answers, Knox called in a favor and borrowed a boat so he could be out on the water, as close to Harper as possible. If all went well, no one would know he was here.

But if things went to hell, he’d be close enough to help. It was the only way he could reconcile his concerns and fulfill his obligation to the job.

With the sun a hopeful glow on the eastern horizon, there was plenty of traffic moving away from the docks. Enough to make him relatively anonymous. This would’ve been easier still if he had the GPS for the boat, but he wouldn’t have that intel until he watched her board.

From a distance. Through binoculars. Like a stalker.

No. He was here as her protector looking for the bastard who’d been harassing her.

He trailed after the fleet of fishing boats until Harper’s charter found their spot and settled in, baiting hooks and dropping the lines. She seemed to be having a good time. Relaxed, she chatted with the crew and guests, even pouring what he assumed were mimosas at this hour.

Knox managed to get a couple pictures without being spotted. As soon as he got a cell signal, he’d send the images to Jenna for identification.

There were other boats in the vicinity, typical for the prime charter fishing spots. Knox did what he could to record the closest vessels for further investigation, though no one seemed to be paying much attention to Harper.

Knox set a fishing pole and pretended to do his own thing, blending in with the other fishermen. The sun rose, rays of yellow and orange spearing across the sky, glowing over the water. For a while, Knox relaxed under the sheer beauty of it.

When the peace shattered, it began in silence. Black smoke billowed up, charring the morning sky. Knox grabbed his binoculars, a beat ahead of the explosive boom that rolled across the sea, rocking his boat. Damn, it was the same charter Harper was on.

He radioed for help, heard others doing the same as he sped closer to the scene. He could see fire flashing deep within the smoke and nudged the throttle, arrowing toward the danger. Maydays continued pouring over the emergency channel, along with responses from the Coast Guard.

Knox slowed as he came alongside the boat, close enough he could feel the heat of the fire. The acrid odor of burning fuel stung his nose and the heavy smoke cloud swelled.

The crew fought the flames rising from the stern near the motors while the guests, Harper included, gathered near the bow. Everyone on board had donned life jackets.

Didn’t take a nautical expert to see that the charter boat didn’t have much time left.

Other vessels moved in, offering advice and assistance. The commotion turned the water choppy, making it hard to safely hold position for rescue. His priority was Harper.

At the bow, she was far from the flames, but still in a great deal of danger. She’d taken over, shouting directions to the nearest vessels to get the guests and crew off the burning boat as quickly as possible.

Knox steered closer. He didn’t care who rescued the others, but he could not allow her to leave this scene with a stranger.

A big fishing cruiser maneuvered into position. They had plenty of room for everyone from Harper’s boat. The pilot managed the chop with an expertise that made it look easy and they tossed a line to maintain their position as they deployed an inflatable rescue boat.

If not for the bridge incident last night, Knox might’ve let her go and followed the big cruiser back to shore. But he couldn’t take the chance this was a random crisis.

“Harper!” he shouted. The odds of her hearing him over the commotion were low. Waving his arms, he tried to catch her attention.

The narrow inflatable hit the water with a smack. A clever design, it could support three or four people at once. The crewman on both vessels worked in tandem swiftly, without rushing, to get everyone across safely. Harper was poised at the gunwale, ready to move to the inflatable, when the hull cracked. The smaller boat pitched up high, then lurched to starboard. She lost her grip and cartwheeled into the water.

Someone from the rescuing vessel dove in after her.

Time slowed down for Knox, each detail feeling separated from the others. The would-be rescuer had made a rookie move, going in like that. Knox understood the desperation, but refused to give in. Watching the point where she’d gone in, aware of her skills, he tossed a line where he expected her to pop up.

She surfaced, spotted the line, and grabbed hold.

He reeled her in, gripping the lifejacket to help her out of the water and into his boat.

“I’ve got her!” he shouted, unsure if anyone could hear him over the noise of the engines in the makeshift rescue armada.

“Kn-Knox?” Her teeth chattered. “What are you doing here?”

He grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. “Just lucky timing I guess.”

He nudged her down onto the bench nearest the helm and eased away from the rescue operation. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, blotting her face. “Scared, but?—”

The windscreen shattered, interrupting her. He hadn’t heard a gunshot, but he couldn’t think of anything else that would leave a hole like that.

“Get down,” he barked, dragging her under the helm. It was the best shelter he could offer.

“What was that?”

“A problem.”

She was trying to stand up for a look at the windscreen. “Was it a gunshot?”

“Stay down, Harper.” He’d answer questions later.

Blocking her with his body, he turned away from the controlled chaos of the emergency response and accelerated away.

So much for going unnoticed.

* * *

“Is it safe?” Harper asked after a few minutes of steady movement over the water. The boat lifted and fell back again as he sped across the waves with gentle expertise, away from the emergency. The hum of the engine combined with the consistent rise and fall of the boat lulled her into something close to a trance.

She was too stressed to call it sleep, but she didn’t feel alert either. She didn’t know if they’d been out here for hours or merely a few minutes.

“Should we go back and help?”

“No.”

“Knox.” She should argue, persuade him to do the right thing.

“Harper,” he matched her scolding tone. “You need to see the bullet?” His sharp tone scraped against her rattled senses. “The hole isn’t good enough?”

She’d hoped she’d imagined that. “It wasn’t debris from the fishing boat?”

“No.”

That tone meant she’d be wasting her energy trying to change his mind. How long had she been tucked under here? Shouldn’t they have reached the marina by now? Her perspective was all warped.

One minute she’d been reveling in a glorious morning, eager for a fun day as they set the lines. Then everything was chaos. The explosion had been like a full-body blow and she could still taste the fire in her mouth.

“Let me up.” He didn’t move, so she bumped his legs, doing her best to ignore the strong muscles revealed by his board shorts. “Knox, please.”

“In a minute.”

She didn’t have a minute. If she didn’t get this taste out of her mouth, get some clean air on her face, she’d puke. No way would she give into that ultimate indignity in front of him. Squeezing out of the cramped space, she crawled over to the bench seat. In deference to his abundance of caution, she stayed low on the deck, resting her head against the seat and turning her face into the wind. She let the strong breeze tug at her hair, hoping it would strip away the clinging smell of smoke.

“What the hell happened back there?” she asked. She’d barely understood the full scope of the fire before she’d fallen overboard.

“Engine trouble?”

When he turned her way, she assumed he was glaring at her. His eyebrows were flexed down, his mouth too, but his eyes were shielded by dark sunglasses.

“Where are you taking me?” She was cold, her legs were cramping up, and the motion that had been comforting moments ago was becoming unbearable. An overreaction, yes, but she couldn’t ignore it much longer. “Do you have any water on board?”

He didn’t reply other than to ease off the throttle until the boat was drifting along with the gentlest of rollers. “I think we’re clear.” He reached down and helped her to her feet. “I’ll get you some water.”

She looked around. They were definitely clear. The nearest vessel was a cargo ship at the horizon, plodding along toward Charleston. She had a thousand questions, but as soon as she saw the hole in the destroyed windscreen, her focus narrowed quickly.

“That’s a bullet hole.”

He handed her a bottle of water. “I believe so.”

Her knees buckled and he caught her one-handed. “Easy now.” He supported her until she was seated on the bench seat next to the helm. “Hydrate.”

“Thanks.” Her shaking hands fumbled on the cap and he opened it for her. She tipped it back, guzzling the contents and soothing her throat. “Why would anyone shoot at you?”

A single dark eyebrow lifted over the frames of his sunglasses. “No idea.”

It had to be an accident. Had to be. She just couldn’t explore any alternatives right now. No one other than Bruce and Audrey knew she was going fishing this morning. This couldn’t be about her.

And yet…

Somehow, Knox just happened to be fishing in the same area? Her stomach twisted and she downed more water.

“Thank you.” First and foremost, she was grateful that he’d been there when she needed an assist. Maybe if she pretended hard enough, she could convince herself this was all a happy coincidence. “What were you doing fishing out there today?” Like her, he’d grown up near the coast, but she couldn’t recall hearing much about his fishing preferences.

“Seemed like a good day for fishing.” He pointed to her. “I’d say I got the best catch.”

“Funny.”

He shrugged, then tilted his head toward the radio, still tuned to the emergency channel. “Hear that? They got everyone off the boat.”

“Good.” It was a big relief to know her friends would be safely back at the marina soon. They’d have to schedule a meeting for the business details they’d hoped to work out this morning. Of course, that would require communication. Her cell phone was likely on its way to the bottom of the ocean. Considering the jerk who’d been sending her messages, she wasn’t all that sad about it.

“What about us? Where are we going?” They were drifting toward the south, but she didn’t see any familiar landmarks. “I should get back to the resort.”

He only shook his head. “Bruce knows where you are. Knows you’re safe.”

Good. Her uncle would relay that to her parents. But when had Knox made that call? She hadn’t heard him speak with anyone but her. Hadn’t seen him use his phone.

“That charter went down too fast,” Knox said. “Who jumped in the water after you?”

“Someone went in?” She didn’t remember much of anything after she’d slipped. She’d gone under until the lifejacket buoyed her up. She hadn’t realized it was Knox who’d pulled her in until she was on the boat with him.

“Yes. A split-second after you fell,” he explained. “Some guy from the other boat dove right in after you.”

That was a huge risk with the fishing boat sinking and the other vessels pressing in to offer help. “I should probably figure out who that was and thank him.”

“Or not.” Knox grunted. “Were you friendly with that crew? Someone must’ve recognized you.”

She shivered as cold fear trickled down her spine. “I guess so. I didn’t see anyone until you.”

Another grunt as he started the engine and got underway once more.

“Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t reply, focused on cruising over the waves. She took a moment to drink him in while he was distracted. He wore a white and navy colorblock windbreaker over dark blue board shorts and deck shoes with no socks. His legs were braced, his hands light on the wheel, looking completely relaxed. The only evidence to the contrary was the hard set of his jaw.

When he didn’t volunteer any more information, she tried to sort it out on her own. Instead, her mind kept replaying the fire and smoke from the fishing boat. What on earth had caused that? Her gaze drifted back to the windscreen and that trickle of fear turned into a hard grip around her heart.

“Knox? Talk to me.” No response, though he must’ve heard her. “You can’t ignore me forever.”

“I have never ignored you,” he said without sparing her a glance.

She wasn’t sure he’d meant to admit that. Though she wanted clarification, she stuck to the more pressing issue. “What do you think is going on?”

An accident or sabotage? If the damage was deliberate, was it about her? This time she was ready for the shiver and braced against it, refusing to give in. A stunt like that being about her seemed like an extreme theory and more than a little self-centered.

Accidents happened, even on well-maintained vessels. As he kept up the silent treatment, she took in the view, searching for a landmark. To port, it was nothing but ocean. Glancing starboard, she spied a barrier island in the distance. “You’re certainly taking the long way. Have I been shanghaied?”

“You’ve been rescued from an attempt on your life,” he stated baldly.

“What?” That was exactly what she didn’t want to hear. “I know you pulled me out?—”

“I know what I saw, Harper. That was a setup. Someone planted an explosive on the charter. On the day you booked it.”

“That can’t be true.” She draped the towel he’d bundled her in over her legs, rubbing away the chill. “It was a last-minute thing. You’re making a wild assumption.”

She needed it to be a wild assumption. Needed his theory to be completely wrong .

He throttled down, scanning the area for anyone who might get too close. They were still remarkably alone. Sailboats had been skimming on the wind as they passed the Charleston harbor, but that was behind them now.

Knox pulled off his sunglasses and hooked them in the collar of his shirt. “Is it wild? I think it’s the safe bet. The logical answer.”

Logical? This couldn’t be happening. If he believed she was a target, then his presence wasn’t a simple coincidence. “What are you doing here?”

He scrubbed at the stubble shadowing his jaw. “My job. I’ve been hired to protect you.”

“My parents.”

“Yes,” he replied, though it wasn’t a question. “After they received some unfortunate mail.”

“Threats?” She shoved to her feet. “Someone mailed threats to my parents?”

“To you actually.” He grimaced. “But the envelopes were suspicious, so they opened them.” He paused and she nearly begged for the rest of the story. “They opened the letters and the messages distressed them enough to reach out to the Guardian Agency.”

“Of course they did.” She dropped back to her seat, feeling defeated and frustrated. “And without telling me.” The wind turned cold against her skin and wet clothing and she tried to rub it away with the towel.

The Ellington properties and the Guardian Agency had been working together for a few years now for optimal security measures. With such a wide variety of potential crimes moving through hotels and guests, it was essential for staying ahead of criminal trends. Their combined efforts had paid off already—multiple times over.

Their legitimate guests were safer. The staff was safer. And that reputation definitely bolstered the business. More importantly in Harper’s mind, the global community at large was safer when hotels took strong, effective precautions.

No, they’d never catch every criminal or preempt all crimes, but each time they prevented trouble was a win in her mind.

Knox unzipped his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The warmth was intense and such a relief. The scent of his soap and skin wound around her, enticing as it blended with the salt air and sunshine. Her shivering eased, and for a moment, she indulged in the fantasy of being a real couple.

Him sharing his jacket, seeing to her comfort was normal. They were two people who shared everything, from inside jokes and loving affection to a passion for the ocean. Today had simply been a good day to be out on the water and they’d given in.

“I’m taking you to a safe house on Brookwell.”

His words were a wrecking ball, shattering her brief bliss. She should’ve expected such a high-handed move. Whenever she thought she might gain his attention on a personal, intimate level he jerked away, pulling the proverbial rug out from under her feet.

“No, thank you.”

“I insist,” he replied, without looking at her.

Didn’t she have a vote? It was her life. This was the kind of interference she and Trina had commiserated over last night. Someone should’ve consulted her .

“No, Knox. I mean it. I can’t go into lockdown. I’ve got business?—”

“What you have is a serious problem, Harper. One we’d hoped to eliminate without ever troubling you.

“A safe house turns the odds in your favor. As for the business, you’re going to have to deal with that remotely until we sort out the source of the threat.” He faced her and though his eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses once more, she felt the intensity of his stare. “Unless you already know who it is.”

“I beg your pardon.” She felt her cheeks heat. Thank goodness she could blame it on the wind in her face and the sunshine warming up the day. “What are you implying?”

She didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was angry. The hard line of his mouth and tough set of his jaw gave it away.

“Stop, Harper. I know you’ve been receiving threats. Someone’s been following you. And you haven’t talked to anyone about it.”

How did he know everything? “I was going to talk to Bruce,” she said, immediately defensive. She’d planned to get her uncle involved as soon as she had some idea of who was behind the harassment. “I just?—”

“You just got tossed off a boat that was on fire. And shot at.”

Because of course he’d make her feel worse. “Accidents happen.”

“You mean accidents like nearly getting rear ended on the bridge last night? Have you considered how badly that might’ve ended?”

He really did know everything. Her heart sank.

“Yes.” The unpleasant possibilities had kept her awake all night. She shivered again and this time it had nothing to do with the cool air or the recent crisis. “How do you know all of this?”

“Because I’ve been on the job for a couple of weeks now. Following you. Making sure you’re safe.”

His frank declaration should be reassuring. Somehow, the idea that he’d been close and keeping tabs on her wasn’t nearly as comforting as it was in movies and books. She thought of all the things she’d done in the past couple of weeks. Errands, her annual gynecology appointment, trivia nights, business meetings. Thankfully, no dates, because she’d sworn off romance for a while.

And he’d been her shadow through all of that? As attuned as she was to Knox’s presence, it shocked her that she hadn’t noticed him. He’d been keeping secrets too. Obviously, he was far more than a regular security consultant.

She sighed, choosing deflection rather than another useless denial. “Being the only girl sucks sometimes. My parents don’t shelter Rhett like this.”

Only girl and the youngest. Her brother had free rein, dated whoever he wanted without any parental commentary, and made his own decisions about where he wanted to work and live. But with her, “the precious daughter”, they hovered.

Even thinking it made her feel petty because it wasn’t an entirely fair assessment. Too bad. She wasn’t in a fair mood. She was mad and getting angrier by the minute. Bad enough that someone was trying to intimidate her. Those threatening letters must’ve been terrible, but to hire protection without even talking to her?

She wasn’t a child.

“Far as I know,” Knox said, “no one has sent threats aimed at Rhett to the family home.”

“This sucks,” she groused. “They should’ve talked to me.”

“You could have talked to them first.”

“I’m handling it.”

“How?” Knox challenged. “You’re stalling at best. This is serious, Harper. You need to tell me who is doing this so I can do my job.”

Right. Of course, her bodyguard would be the man she’d been crushing on for years. Hadn’t she just been admiring all of him? And to him, she was merely his current job. The universe was having a field day with this one, for sure.

“Well, you can stop now. Get me to shore and I’ll take it from here.”

“Not happening.”

Wasn’t anyone going to give her a say? “I mean it, Knox. Mom and Dad had no right to hire you without discussing it with me.”

“What would you have done differently if they had?”

Oh, nothing about this conversation was going the way it should. She wanted to shout or argue, but Knox wasn’t the right target. She burrowed into his jacket, but that only made her ache for what was clearly a one-way attraction.

“We’ll never know.” She wanted off this boat. “Can we go now? I need to get back.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asked, ignoring her request completely.

Frustrated and scared, her temper snapped. “Is this how you treat your clients? Your assignments?” He opened his mouth, snapped it shut, and she barreled on. “No one from the Guardian Agency has ever spoken to me like this.”

“Don’t pull out that sensitive-princess routine,” Knox said. His voice was light, but the words stung. “I know you better than that.”

He did and he didn’t. They’d met as kids and so he’d known about her for some time, thanks to their parents running in similar social circles. But they weren’t friends. Weren’t close. He probably used the same labels for her as everyone else: independent, serious, confident, business savvy. He might know about her dance background, or the charities she supported professionally and personally.

Admittedly, the reverse was also true. She couldn’t claim to truly know him. She sure hadn’t known the true nature of his work until today. Her friends and members of her family—Hannah and Bruce—knew him far better than she did. She’d heard about him getting into scrapes with her brother and even bigger trouble without him, but no one had shared the gory details with her. Feeling annoyed and brittle, she just wanted as far from him as she could get.

Look at that. There really was a first time for everything.

Her past infatuation with him was irrelevant to the pressing issue. There was no point in arguing with him. “Please take me home. I’ll talk to Bruce.” If that conversation convinced her she needed protection, they could assign someone else.

Someone who hadn’t starred in every delicious fantasy she’d ever had.

Counting on him to cooperate, she tucked the towel around her legs and turned her gaze to the stern, watching the foamy white wake behind the boat. To her dismay, he cut the engine once more. The ensuing silence was uncomfortable. The wake disappeared, the rollers rocking the boat. Thank goodness it was a calm day.

Aside from a fishing charter blowing up.

Adrenaline had her all jacked up. Her stomach was queasy and though her hands were steady, she still felt shaky inside.

She risked a glance in his direction. He sat in front of the wheel, hands folded over his trim abs, eyes closed, and his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. Utterly relaxed. To an outsider he was just another guy taking his girl out for a day on the water.

Thinking back, she had seen him around more often recently. He’d stopped by the resort to speak with Bruce and of course, he’d been at trivia last night. Months ago, she’d bumped into him on Brookwell, supposedly consulting with Trina on a security issue.

“Why do you pretend to be a security consultant?”

He was so still she thought maybe he’d actually fallen asleep. Of course that was only wishful thinking. When he moved, it was with such ease despite the rocking boat. He adjusted those long limbs and leaned forward, his soft brown eyes held her captive. Though he wasn’t close to touching her, she felt caged in.

It wasn’t awful.

Closer to wonderful. Ugh. She had to find a way to get over her infatuation.

“I do consulting,” he replied, almost lazily. “Particularly as it pertains to hotel security.”

“Mm-hm.” She wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. “Were you consulting or dating Trina when we ran into each other a while back?”

Thinking about it, Harper decided they’d be good together. Beautiful, in complementary ways. His height a balance to her smaller stature. His long lines to her rich curves. She suddenly had a vision of the two of them in a kitchen where Knox helped Trina with anything on a high shelf. His family money would surely impress her parents. It was a match worth mentioning.

“What?” His eyes went wide and he lurched back in his seat. “No. What gave you that idea?”

“It’s not a bad idea,” she mused, inexplicably delighted to have flustered him. “Her parents would approve of you.”

“Stop it,” he snapped. “I was out there that day because Jess called. We met with Trina to go over ideas to strengthen security around the Inn.”

“I see.” Crossing her legs, the towel slipped and she was pleasantly surprised at the way he tracked the movement. Maybe he wasn’t indifferent to her after all. “Molly mentioned you were a big help to Miles recently.” She didn’t say anymore, letting the silence imply she knew he had secrets too.

“You’ve gotten pretty close with all of them,” he noted.

“I have. They’re all great.” And going to Brookwell gave her a healthy break from all things Ellington. Family and business.

“You count Jess as a friend?”

“Of course.”

“So why aren’t you mad at her?” he asked. “She’s in charge of personnel in this area.”

Harper sat up straighter. “You’re here because of her decisions?” His hesitation was answer enough. “I didn’t think so.”

“Personnel assignments are her job,” he protested.

“Mm-hm.” She was aware of that, but in this particular instance she knew there was more to it. “You’re here because Bruce wanted you .” Her uncle and her parents would’ve insisted on having the best person available watch over her. Preferably someone they were familiar with. Someone they trusted. Especially if that someone wasn’t supposed to get caught protecting her.

He shoved at his sun-streaked brown hair. “Does it really matter?”

She rolled her eyes wishing she had her sunglasses, but they were on the way to the bottom of the ocean to join her phone. “Not really. Can you blame me for being annoyed with the entire mess? Who likes having their life turned upside down?”

“No one,” he agreed. “If you’ll cooperate with us, we’ll get this resolved quickly and I’ll be out of your hair.”

He said it with such confidence, as if he was catering to her greatest hope. He had no idea how wrong he was. She’d do just about anything for more time with him, not less. She snapped the towel back across her legs, wishing she could walk away. Some physical distance would surely allow her to get her emotions back under control.

“You’ve been hiding critical information.” Knox aimed a finger at her and she could practically feel it drilling into her heart. “You’ve been ignoring threats and putting yourself in danger. That stops today.”

“I’ll cooperate,” she promised reluctantly.

Soon enough he’d realize she didn’t know anything about the person harassing her. Would he give up on her then? Get himself reassigned somewhere far, far away?

Probably. He always managed to show up, reignite her longing for the impossible, and dash off again.