“Plus,” Rafe added, “my dad said that if Taylor’s biological dad could forgive Frederick, then so could he.”
“He forgave him? Really?” Gideon said, then heard the clacking of heels as Daisy joined them in the lobby. “That’s pretty unbelievable.”
“You’re talking about Clay?” she asked. “Taylor’s bio-dad?”
Gideon nodded. “It had to be hard for Taylor’s father to forgive yours.”
Daisy’s face softened into a sweet smile. “Not really. Clay forgave Dad almost right away. Basically said life was too short to be bitter. He and Dad have become good friends. It’s kind of amazing to watch them together. Speaking of, I need to call my dad. Which means I have to go to the phone store for a new cell. Unless your lab guy is finished with it,” she added hopefully, looking up at Rafe.
Rafe produced a phone from his pocket. “They aren’t, but I took care of it. This is an old one of mine. I had it wiped and your contacts and stuff transferred over. Use it as long as you need to.”
“Thank you.” Gratefully she took the phone and slid it into one of the front pockets of her bag, before reaching in and producing the ball of fur she called Brutus. Snuggling the dog up under her chin, she met Gideon’s eyes. “Why are you here, Agent Reynolds?”
“Gideon,” he corrected without having planned to. He’d planned to keep it formal. He frowned at that, so hard that his forehead pinched.
“Are you sure?” she drawled, sounding amused. “I can call you Agent Reynolds if you want me to.”
His frown deepened. She kept him at a disadvantage and he didn’t like that. “That won’t be necessary.”
She regarded him levelly, a mix of curiosity and compassion in her eyes that was both compelling and unsettling. Like she knew something he would have preferred to keep private. “Why are you here, Gideon?”
“I’m your . . .” His words failed because her blue eyes were narrowing in displeasure.
“My bodyguard?” she snapped.
“That’s as good a word as any,” he said, fighting the need to wince. A small woman with a ridiculous dog should not be so intimidating.
Rafe sighed. “Look at it as a mutually beneficial business arrangement,” he said, and Daisy closed her mouth, silencing what would no doubt have been objections.
Gideon noted this. Rafe was very good at corralling Daisy to do what he wanted her to. He had the feeling he himself would not be so lucky.
“All right,” she said suspiciously. She pointed to Gideon. “You explain. Rafe’s got some silver-tongued pact with Satan going on. Tries to distract me.”
Gideon snorted a laugh before he could stop himself. “That’s accurate,” he said, and when she smiled back at him, something settled in his chest. “It’s pretty simple. The guy who attacked you connects to the locket. I want to trace that locket. If he comes after you again, I can keep you safe and get some information at the same time.”
She watched him for a long moment. “So let’s say I agree. How long will this mutually beneficial business arrangement last?”
“A week for now.”
“And if he doesn’t come after me? Especially considering I have a bodyguard?”
Gideon exchanged a glance with Rafe, who wore an I-told-you-so smile. Bastard. But Rafe had warned him that Daisy wouldn’t take well to a bodyguard. After her father hiring someone to follow her around Europe, Gideon couldn’t say he blamed her.
Still, he was a little offended. “I am quite capable of following you in a way that no one will know I’m there, Miss Dawson. Including you.”
“Then why tell me at all?” she asked innocently.
Rafe covered a laugh with a cough. Gideon forced his expression to remain passively neutral even though in his mind he was grinding his teeth. “I thought you’d like to know you’re being protected. I was trying to be nice.”
She smiled at that. “Okay.”
It was his turn to be suspicious. “Okay what?”
“Okay, you can be my bodyguard,” she said graciously, dipping her head like a queen might. “And you may call me Daisy. Well, if we’re done here, I’d like to go back to my apartment to go to sleep. Is that acceptable, Gideon?”
He found himself smiling yet again. “It is. My car’s parked in the lot in back.”
SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 10:30 A.M.
I have a fucking bodyguard. Un-frickin-believable. Daisy was still silently fuming as Gideon pulled his car into the driveway of Rafe’s house, where she rented a studio apartment. But she was not too stupid to live, and thus grateful not to be alone after last night’s attack. So she’d bitten back her irritation and smiled sweetly, offering no overt resistance. It seemed to work because Gideon Reynolds had finally relaxed, his mysterious, growly, bad-boy vibes settling into something resembling grim competence.
He didn’t seem to be any happier about the arrangement than she was. Although he had been furious with Tad. More like he wanted to take the prick apart.
Which really wasn’t that surprising. Irina had been insisting for the last six months that Gideon was one of the “rare good guys.”
A good guy who apparently had programmed Rafe’s garage door into his own car. Gideon pressed a button on the overhead light panel and the garage door slid up.
“How can you open Rafe’s garage?” she asked him.
He spared her a quick glance. “I used to live here.”
She blinked. “When?”
His smile was wry. “Until six months ago,” he said. “When Rafe told me to hurry my ass up and move because he had a new tenant.”
Daisy’s mouth fell open, genuinely horrified. “I kicked you out of your apartment? But Karl said it was available, that Rafe needed the rent check. I never would have—”
“Daisy,” Gideon interrupted, his voice deep and . . . authoritative. Which should not be so enticing. Because I hate authority. I really do. But she couldn’t deny the shivers that ran over her skin at the sound of him saying her name.
He was watching her warily. Because I probably sound insane.
She lifted her chin, met his eyes. “Yes?”
“I’d bought a house and it was sitting empty because the thought of moving was exhausting. I was griping loudly every day about the commute from Midtown to the field office and the fact that I was paying rent and a mortgage. Rafe was about to kill me.”
She smiled, relieved. “So my moving here kept Rafe from a homicide charge?”
He frowned as he pulled into the garage. “And kept me from being murdered.”
She chuckled. “Okay. That’s good, too.”
He shut off the engine, then turned to give her his full attention. Which was a little overwhelming, Daisy thought, feeling her pulse ratchet up.
This could end up being very, very good or very, very bad.
“I won’t bother you,” he said quietly.
“Too late,” she murmured, then bit her lip as her cheeks heated. But it was true. Gideon Reynolds bothered her on so many levels. Still, it was rude and that was not okay. “Sorry. I’d intended to keep that to myself.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “I know having someone watch over you is not what you want.”
“But right now, it’s what I need. I really do appreciate it.” She made a face. “Part of me hopes the guy will try again so that you’ll get what you need. How insane is that?”
His smile was so gentle that it stole her next breath. “Incredibly insane. And very generous.” He cleared his throat abruptly and the moment was gone. “This is how I thought we’d work this. I’ll sleep on your sofa and drive you to and from work.”
“What about my commitments? I’m doing the pet adoption clinic tomorrow.” She knew she sounded a little childish and a lot defensive, but she couldn’t make herself care. “I don’t want him to steal my life, Gideon. I’ve lived that. For years. It was like prison. I can’t go back to that. I won’t.”
Understanding flickered in his eyes, but it was more than empathy. It was a lot more personal than that. Like maybe he really did understand. She wondered about the locket once again. “I know,” he said before she could probe for answers. “I respect that.”
“But?”
“But nothing. You’ll go about your life as if nothing is wrong. I’ll discreetly follow you. If someone does happen to notice me and asks, tell them I’m a friend from the East Coast or from the ranch, like that Jacob person you mentioned last night.”
She lifted a brow, the downsides to this plan all too apparent. “And if I’m going about my life, it’s more likely that the guy from last night will try again.”
Gideon shrugged. “It’s more likely he’ll try again if you’re out there than if you’re holed up somewhere safe. Make me a copy of your schedule. I’ll research the setups ahead of time to figure out how to best remain out of sight.”
“And at the end of one week you’ll be gone?”
His left eye twitched. Just a hair. A tell, she thought, filing the discovery away for later. “How about we renegotiate terms when the time comes?”
Her cell phone buzzed, saving her from answering one way or the other. She winced when she saw her screen.
“What is it?” Gideon asked.
“A text from Irina. Asking if I’ve called my father yet.”