The Jaguar Bodyguard Page 2

  It was a delicious combination that made it hard for Nick to concentrate on his mission, but he was a professional. He’d manage. Somehow.

  “Here you go,” Sullivan said as she approached.

  He noticed she had two steaming mugs in her hands, walking carefully so as not to spill any of the contents. She held one out to him, which he took in his much larger hands, the contrast between her delicate bone structure and his big paws making an emphatic statement in his mind about the differences between them.

  He thanked her as he stood to take the mug, and then, she surprised him by hooking one slipper-shod foot around the leg of the empty chair and drawing it closer. She sat down with him, behind the little desk of the security station, and smiled as if having tea in the middle of the night with a stranger she’d hired to protect her was perfectly normal.

  Nick sat back down, leaving as much space as he could between them within the tight confines of the desk area. They both had to rest their hot mugs on the desk, after all, so they needed to squeeze in to be within reach. Plus, he didn’t want her to think he was shying away from her. On the contrary, it was hard to hold a distance with his inner cat wanting to rub right up against her so badly.

  What had gotten into him? He’d been around beautiful women before, and none had ever affected his inner beast so much. Although, to be honest, Sullivan wasn’t a classic beauty. She had a sharper edge to her than the porcelain-skinned dolls or darkly curvaceous beauties currently in favor in Hollywood. She had a style all her own that was both striking and nontraditional.

  It was her acting ability that had driven her to stardom. Nick had taken time to see her new movie—as well as a few of her older films. He counted it as research but had found himself staring at Sullivan Lane up on the screen for reasons he couldn’t quite define. She intrigued him on every level, and he was hoping like hell that she wasn’t going to turn out to be a rat looking to make an even bigger name for herself by outing shifters to some tabloid.

  If she had the proof they feared, she could very well screw up the shifter world with her revelation. No group of shifters wanted to be the one to open that particular can of worms. If the humans did find out, Nick was determined that it wasn’t going to be because of a silly jaguar kid taking a fright. How ignominious.

  “So, what do you think of the night shift so far, Nick? I can call you Nick, right?” Her smile was as enchanting in person as it was on the silver screen.

  He nodded. “It’s been pretty standard, so far, until you showed up with the tea. Thank you, again, by the way. I’m not a coffee man, so tea is actually perfect for me,” he told her, trying his best to be non-threatening.

  His Alpha’s new mate had been calling him Attila the Bodyguard lately, and he didn’t necessarily like it. She had other names for him, too, which weren’t exactly complimentary. Of course, they’d met under trying circumstances when he’d been interrogating her about an attempt on his Alpha’s life. Nick had seen her talking with the gunman before the shooting and justifiably suspected that she might have something to do with the assassination attempt.

  He’d done his duty and grilled her for an hour or more before the Alpha had come back with the news that she hadn’t been involved after all. He’d spent the hour doing his own investigation at the hotel, where she and the gunman had coincidentally both been staying, which revealed that not only was she innocent but also, very likely, his mate.

  Nick had been as stunned as the rest of the Clan. Mark had searched the world over for his one true mate and had never even come close to finding her. Then, all of a sudden, like lightning, there she was. It had taken a bit of getting used to, but Nick was beginning to like the new Alpha female of the Clan. She had good ideas for the new community they were building and seemed to have her heart in the right place.

  There was no forgetting the fact that they had gotten off on the wrong foot. She still wasn’t all that friendly toward him, but he hoped, someday, she’d realize that he’d only been such a hard ass because the safety of his Alpha came first. He hoped, in time, she’d forgive him for being so rough on her. That day hadn’t quite come yet, though.

  “A man who likes tea, who isn’t British. Cool. I feel like I just discovered pirate treasure. You’re a rarity, my friend.” She raised her mug in joking salute before taking another sip. “You’re not British, right?” she asked after, her brows drawing together in question.

  “I don’t think so,” he replied. “My family hails from various parts of South America, but the States are my home for now.”

  “All of them? Or just California?” she teased, a very attractive joyful light shining in her eyes.

  “California is the most recent, but I spend a lot of time in New York, too.” He kept his answers deliberately vague.

  “An international man of mystery,” she mused. “I like that.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments, each enjoying their tea. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, Nick found. Just two souls sharing the quiet of the night. There were hidden depths to Sullivan Lane, he was discovering.

  “To answer your question, the night shift suits me just fine,” he said some moments later, hoping to draw her out a bit more. Who knew when he’d have another chance to talk to her like this? He had to develop a feel for her personality in order to gauge how much of a threat she was to his people. Best to not waste any opportunities. “I’m nocturnal by nature, I guess.” An old master at subterfuge, Nick knew just the right amount of truth to add to his words.

  “You’re a night owl, huh?” she asked with a slight grin.

  “Something like that,” he agreed. Though he had fur, not feathers.

  “I’ve worked nights, so I know what you mean. There’s a different energy to the world at night. Sort of crystalline and delicate, yet powerful. I always enjoyed the drive home at four in the morning when almost everyone else was asleep and there was nothing but me and the stars to light my path.”

  Hidden depths, indeed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “What did you do that kept you out at such dangerous hours?” he asked gently, wanting to know more but not wanting to push too hard.

  “I was on the cleaning staff at a theater where they had bands and traveling companies come through all the time. The shows would end around ten or eleven at night, then the guys from the stage hands union would go in and break down the sets or instruments or whatever and then give our cleaning crew the go ahead to clean the seating areas and backstage. We always started with the lobby, restrooms and public areas, but we couldn’t go into the theater and finish the seating and performing areas until they had cleared out enough of their equipment to make the place safe for us, so we were always the last ones out.”

  Sullivan Lane had been a cleaning lady? Nick found admiration starting to grow for the woman who didn’t seem to shy away from hard work. Maybe she wasn’t a rich bitch, stuck-up starlet, after all? He had to revise his opinion. He’d had her pegged all wrong, which wasn’t a comfortable thing to admit, even in the privacy of his own mind.

  “Is that where you caught the acting bug?” he asked, wanting to know more about this new facet of Sullivan Lane that he’d just uncovered.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. We didn’t really get to see the shows. By the time we came in for work, they were nearly over, and we weren’t allowed in the theater until after the crowds left, but every once in a while, they’d leave a door open to the lobby and I could just see in a little. I enjoyed the plays—what I could see of them. The musicals were nice, too, but I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” She chuckled lightly, an inviting sound that begged him to join in. “To be honest, I never had dreams of all this.” She gestured to the grand foyer and the big house all around them. “I wasn’t one of those actresses who had a side gig as a waitress. I was just a waitress who had a side gig as an actress. All the films I’ve been in started out as poorly funded indie projects. This last one just took off in ways nobody expected because of the d
irector, Raja Kapoor. He’s kind of a genius.”

  Whether or not the young Indian director who’d successfully made the jump from Bollywood to Hollywood was really a genius or just a guy who could spot amazing talent remained to be seen. What was not in dispute in Nick’s mind was Sullivan’s incredible portrayal of a real-life heroine. She’d been spectacular and had some gripping scenes that were written by another up-and-comer, a screenwriter chosen by Kapoor. The team of nascent talent the young director had put together for this film was what had driven its success, at least in Nick’s mind.

  But he was hearing something in Sullivan’s words and tone. She wasn’t entirely happy with the way things had turned out. Surprising.

  “Is this one of those cases of be careful what you wish for?” he asked gently.

  “That’s just it,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “I didn’t wish for any of this. I was doing okay as a waitress, and I certainly wasn’t getting death threats or bloody dead squirrels on my front steps. I also didn’t need a bodyguard just to go to the grocery store.” She huffed out a breath and calmed. “I’m sorry. I must sound like the most ungrateful wretch to you.”

  “Not at all. You’ve had an upheaval in your life, coupled with threats nobody would take lightly. You’re entitled to wish it all away for a moment…as long as you realize you can’t, in the end. Which is why you did the sensible thing and hired us to look out for you. Your circumstances have changed, and you can’t stuff that genie back in the bottle. You’re Sullivan Lane, and you’re going to have to adapt to your new circumstances.”

  She gave him a sidelong look. “Harsh, but true.” She shook her head. “And there are benefits to this change in my circumstances, as you put it. Having money is nice. Not having to worry about scrimping and saving and holding down a steady job for the first time in my life is kind of liberating,” she admitted. “And the house is gorgeous, even if it isn’t mine to keep. Eventually, when the heat dies down a bit, I want to buy a nice little place of my own—not something this gaudy or big, but something I can turn into a real cozy home. With all due consideration for security, of course.” She nodded to him respectfully. “And please, call me Sal. We might as well be on a first-name basis since it’s the middle of the night and I’m drinking tea with you in my pajamas.”

  Nick did chuckle, then, enjoying her sense of humor. “How did you get Sal from Sullivan?”

  “It’s the other way around. My name was always Sal. Sullivan is a stage name. The tabloids shortened it to Sully, which I’m not crazy about, but I haven’t tried correcting them,” she said offhandedly.

  “All right, Sal, then” he said agreeably. “I had you pegged all wrong, and I’m sorry to admit I thought you might be like a lot of other Hollywood starlets.”

  Her eyes narrowed a little, but she didn’t seem to take offense. “Spoiled rotten, you mean?” She laughed outright. “Don’t worry. I don’t have any delusions of grandeur. I’m probably a flash in the pan, and after this movie, I just might be able to go back into obscurity.”

  “Oh, I seriously doubt that,” he told her. “I’ve seen the movie, you know. It was part of my prep for taking on this job. You’ve got real talent. A presence that sort of steps off the screen and into your head,” he told her, inadvertently revealing more than he’d intended, but he supposed it was okay. It was the middle of the night, after all, when secrets were more easily shared. “I don’t think Hollywood is going to leave you alone. Offers are probably already rolling in, aren’t they?”

  She looked a bit guilty. “Yeah.” She sighed. “My agent says I can have my pick of projects, which is really kind of amazing, but I guess it hasn’t all sunk in yet. This business with the death threats has sort of taken the shine off this experience for me, you know?”

  Suddenly, Nick wanted to bash the stalker’s face in. How dare some unknown perv ruin what should be Sal’s moment of triumph?

  “I can see how that would put a damper on your enthusiasm, but you’ve done the right thing here, calling us in. We can protect you and hopefully give you the peace of mind to be able to enjoy your success the way you should.”

  She raised her mug in silent toast to his words and drained the rest of the tea. She stood, then, and he realized he was sorry to see this intimate moment out of time come to an end.

  “Well, I’d better try to get back to sleep. I’ve got an appearance tomorrow with the rest of the cast. We’re doing a charity thing that should be fun, and useful, too. We’re raising funds for the local hospital, which I think is a good cause. Somebody actually paid ten grand to have lunch with me. Can you believe it?”

  “I believe it,” Nick answered without hesitation.

  She shook her head, smiling as if she couldn’t understand what motivated some people, then turned to walk away. But she paused, just a few steps away, turning back to look at him.

  “Thanks for what you said about my work,” she said, almost shyly. “It means a lot.”

  Nick saw in that moment that Sal Lane was a creature of delicate sensibilities. She might present a tough exterior to the world, but deep down she was just another fragile human soul, seeking friendship and approval. He could give her that, at the very least.

  “I meant every word, Sal,” he told her in a soft voice meant to convey compassion and belief.

  She held his gaze for a moment longer then nodded slightly, just once, and turned to go. He watched her walk toward the stairs. There was more he wanted to say, but now was not the time. Maybe that time would never come. He just wasn’t sure.

  There was something so compelling about her, yet she confused him. It was like there were two Sullivan Lanes inside her—the one she presented to the world, and one that she protected, hiding that special light from everybody. Until he cleared up the mystery surrounding this woman, he wouldn’t fully understand what she was to him.

  For the more he was around her, the more he became convinced that she was significant to his future in some way. But his inner cat was puzzled. On the one hand, her scent was so familiar. So compelling. On the other, her words and deeds were secretive in a way the jaguar couldn’t understand. There was something about her—some hidden depth that he needed to understand before he would know what she was to him.

  Friend or enemy. Acquaintance or…mate?

  Sweet Mother of All. Could he have really have just shared a late-night cup of tea with his future mate?

  It didn’t seem possible. Usually, jaguars knew their mates the moment they first scented them. Of course, it didn’t always happen like that, but nine times out of ten, scent was what alerted them to their perfect matches.

  The fact that Sal was human, and an actress, might have something to do with the disorder of his senses. He knew she smelled of something…beautiful…but he had no frame of reference. He wasn’t sure what his nose was telling him, and the uncertainty annoyed his inner cat.

  To be sure, it enjoyed puzzles, but this was getting a little ridiculous. The jaguar was on a mission, and the confusion wasn’t helping. In fact, it was hindering his investigation and confounding his instincts. Not good. Not good at all.

  Was she doing it on purpose? Did she have some way of hampering his senses? Was she in league with evil to have such a weapon against him? Or was it all just circumstantial? He had no idea, but he redoubled his resolve to keep his eyes open on this case. There could be a whole lot more going on here than he first realized.

  *

  Nick searched every nook and cranny of the rented house over the next few days, finding nothing. He went through all the papers she had in her study—mostly bills and scripts. He found that she’d been telling the truth about her career as a waitress. Last year’s tax return listed a small restaurant in the next county as her employer. Previous returns had listed her on staff at a cleaning service, as well.

  He also ran her social security number and learned that she had started out life with a different name. That wasn’t altogether surprising since she was a
n actress and stage names were the norm. Sullivan Lane had started life as Sally Lannier, but she hadn’t used that name in more than a few years except on a few legal documents, like her taxes.

  Nick discovered that she was meticulous in her bookkeeping, balancing everything to the penny. He liked that. Order was important to him, as well. And she wasn’t a spendthrift. She had carefully budgeted for all of her expenditures. He found her notes and the raw numbers she’d been working with. It sure looked like she was carefully squirreling away most of her money.

  That ran counter to what he’d thought most young starlets who suddenly became rich and famous might do. He’d expected extravagant expenditures. Instead, she’d bought a new car—a practical vehicle, not anything ostentatious with a high price tag and a fancy name. No, she’d opted for something that would last for years, if she wanted to keep it that long. Time would tell.

  As Nick worked his way through her personal stuff, he built a picture in his mind of a woman very unlike his expectations. She was a saver. Careful with her money and how she spent it. She didn’t scrimp on necessary things, but she seemed aware that her windfall was new and fragile.

  Not that he thought her career was over after only one hit movie. It could be, but he thought she had a lot of talent, if she wanted to keep on acting. What impressed him was that she wasn’t counting on future income. No, she was hoarding her winnings while she had them…just in case.

  Cautious. Practical. Talented and not full of herself. She appealed to his own no nonsense nature. It would have been so easy for someone in her position to go hog wild, buying all sorts of crazy stuff, but she hadn’t. That spoke well of her personal control and maturity, and impressed the hell out of him.