Guarding Madison (Bodyguards, Inc.) Page 4

  “Go ahead,” Trace replied, but didn’t move from his position.

  Madison didn’t bother to argue with him about leaving. She was sure it was useless. Instead, she retreated to the private bathroom and completed her nighttime ritual. She shut the light out and took a deep breath before she returned to her bed. He was still there.

  Surprisingly, there was a cheeseburger and French fries arranged in picnic style on the bed. Madison’s stomach rumbled in acceptance. She crawled across the king size mattress to sit near her food and began to eat.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” Madison asked as she finished off a handful of fries.

  “Nope. I ate while you were changing.”

  “How did you get this so quickly?”

  “I have my ways,” he said. She could tell he was joking by his words but not by the look on his face or the tone in his voice. He was all business. Madison finished her late night meal in silence.

  After she finished, she brushed her teeth again then returned to the bed. She pulled back the covers and climbed in, glancing at Trace.

  “Trace?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you leaving?”

  “Not a chance,” Trace replied and moved over to the chair near the bath. He picked it up easily and sat it next to her bedside then pulled out his gun and set it on her night stand. Madison thought it was an odd contrast next to her crystal lamp and delicate vase filled with lavender. She smiled though and curled up to her large pillow, laying on her right side so she could face him.

  Madison turned the switch on the crystal lamp twice until the base was dimly lit by a tiny bulb inside. She had lived nearly thirty-three years and still couldn’t go to sleep in the dark.

  “Why do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Put yourself in harm’s way for virtual strangers.”

  Trace shrugged. “It’s my job.”

  “I’m sure that there are other jobs that don’t require guns and bullet proof vests.”

  “There are, they just don’t interest me.”

  “Thrill junkie?” she questioned. His lack of concern for his own personal safety both interested and confused her.

  “I don’t bungee jump or sky dive, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replied.

  Madison was silent for a few moments. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was racing. It had been a long time since she had a man overnight in her bedroom. Granted he was in a chair but she was still conscience of the warmth his body radiated, his masculine scent, the cold steel of his gun nearby.

  “Trace?”

  “Yea?”

  “Do you snore?”

  “Go to sleep Madison.”

  She smiled in the semi darkness and closed her eyes.

  Trace studied the starlet as she slept. Every fiber of his being screamed out to slip beneath the sheets and do more to her body than just guard it.

  His mind drifted back to earlier when they had walked into the dining room and found the blade through her picture. It had been pizza sauce that covered a portion of the blade and Madison’s picture. He figured it was supposed to represent blood, which made his boil.

  He couldn’t stop himself from looking into her face either. Hearing her call out his name in fear really affected him so he looked. One of his own rules on what never to do while on the job and he broke it. Madison’s look of pure terror would be fixed in his memory for a long, long time. Acting on a client’s emotion could get him killed and he knew it. He decided right then and there to treat Madison as nothing more than a client. Deep inside, he knew that was nothing but wishful thinking. Madison mattered more than what she should.

  What was it about her that got under his skin? She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Had she not been a movie star, he doubt men would really give her the time of day because of her size. Trace thought she was perfect though. He guessed her to be about a size fourteen. Not exactly what society had in mind for a Hollywood darling, yet she was.

  So who wanted her dead? That thought brought him to his feet and he began to pace. He made mental lists of things to do tomorrow. It was back to business or he would lose his meal ticket. No, not just a meal ticket. A special woman.

  Trace stopped at the foot of Madison’s bed and looked down at her. She had kicked the covers off her legs while her nightshirt and rode up affording him a view of her legs. He started at her perfectly pedicured toes and allowed his gaze to travel slowly upwards. Surprisingly trim ankles and calves led to substantial but muscular thighs. Her bottom was covered by white lace and silk that peeked out from underneath her nightshirt.

  He held back a groan and paced again, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the tightening in his jeans. Visions of her silhouetted by the bathroom light reminded him of how luscious her fuller figure was. She was curved in all the right places. Just enough to remind him that he had manly needs that hadn’t been satisfied in a long, damn time.

  Trace needed a distraction. Swinging around, he headed for Madison’s secret candy stash in the closet. A good Snickers bar ought to help. He took one step before the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end.

  A creak sounded outside of Madison’s bedroom door. Tensing, he moved quickly to her bedside and picked up his gun then carefully stepped toward the door. The soft light of Madison’s lamp allowed him a view of the brass handle. He waited for it to turn before making his move. Instead, he was surprised by a soft knock.

  Trace holstered his weapon and cracked open the door to see Maggie. He stepped out into the hall and shut the door quietly.

  “Is everything ok?” he asked, his voice softer than normal. Madison had a hard time falling asleep and he didn’t want to wake her.

  “Yes, I just wanted to see if my daughter was ok.”

  “She’s fine and asleep finally. Isn’t that where you should be as well?”

  Maggie sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I wish I could sleep. I’ve never really thought about my daughter’s safety much, Trace. I just assumed that she would never have this type of problem. I mean, she isn’t some beauty queen—“ Maggie began but was quickly interrupted by Trace.

  “Let me tell you something about your daughter, Maggie. Madison is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. She’s generous and kind and damn talented. You’re lucky to have her as your daughter.”

  Maggie gave Trace a smile. “Well, I know of one fan,” she began then held up a hand before Trace could continue. “What I’m saying is most stalker cases that I’ve read about deal with people who live for the limelight. Madison has never had this issue before. I’ve kept her sheltered from this type of lifestyle, regardless of what she has done. I’m really worried about this, Trace.”

  “Well, don’t be. I’ve got her covered.”

  “Oh really?” Maggie gave him a sideway wink.

  “She’s just a job. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Maggie patted him on the arm and turned around to leave. “If you say so,” she tossed over her shoulder to him as she left.

  Trace shook his head and returned to Madison’s room. She had turned on her other side, still sleeping.

  The conversation with Maggie had managed to cool his adore. Still, he couldn’t let himself get caught up in the emotion again. Not if he planned to keep her safe.

  He sat back down in the chair, put his gun back on her nightstand and stretched out his legs. He wondered if taking this job had been a mistake. Perhaps it was, but then he never would have met Madison.

  Madison Jordan. She was what fuller figure women called a real woman. Hell, he knew that just by looking at her. She was one fine, real woman. A major distraction though. Again he wondered if taking this job had been a mistake.

  Trace closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, never seeing the tears that dotted Madison’s pillow.

  Chapter 5

  The next week Madison kept busy learning her lines. She remained silent and aloof towards Trace. After all, she was just a job wasn’t she?<
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  He was never far from her sight. A few times when she was inside with Jay or her mother, Trace would be outside checking the grounds. He had ordered a new staff of security guards while arranging to have several new additions to her front gate. A new alarm was installed for the house and windows.

  Nothing had come of the knife found stabbed through her photograph so the police had nothing to go on. That meant Trace would stay longer. That also meant Madison would have double duty when it came to acting.

  Since that first night, Madison insisted that Trace stay in his room. Trace tried to argue with her on the issue but Madison held firm, even threatening to fire him. She knew he was mad but it was all she could do to keep her emotions in tact until he gave in and walked away. A quick trip to the shower covered the rush of tears that blended with the hot water until she could no longer tell the difference between the two.

  Late one afternoon, Stanley Stevens, the director for the film she was currently working on stopped by. Madison thought Stanley to be frog-like but brilliant. He was the most sought after director by stars all over, but was known for being picky about which script and who he would direct.

  When the script for The Circle of Friends End came up, Madison had been surprised by Stanley insisting on her for the lead, but didn’t question it. She knew of several other A-list actresses on a waiting list for Stanley Stevens. This film and its director would be the highlight of Madison’s career.

  “Hello Madison.”

  “Stanley, welcome to my home. Please sit down,” Madison said and motioned to the sofa.

  Stanley took a seat, pushed his glasses back up his nose and rolled the script he brought with him. Madison asked Carol to bring them some ice tea and turned back to the eccentric director.

  “What brings you here today, Stanley?”

  “I… I wanted to go… go over the script with you,” he began. Madison had studied him for a long time and had worked through his stuttering with no issues. Others on the set snickered behind his back but Madison ignored them.

  “What about it?” Madison asked and leaned over to look at the script in his hands.

  Stanley began to unroll it but it was knocked from his hands by Trace. Stanley stuttered a surprise when Trace stalked around the couch and pulled him up and began to pat him down.

  “Trace! What are you doing?” Madison gasped out loud.

  “My job,” he said and turned Stanley around none too gently to continue his search.

  “Stop it this instant!” Madison said and tugged at his muscular arms in effort to pull him away from Stanley.

  “Wh…what is g…going on here?” Stanley’s face was bright red with either angry or embarrassment. Madison’s face was red as well for both reasons. Who the hell did Trace think he was?

  “Stanley, I apologize for Mr. Trace. Please sit down, I’ll be right back.”

  Carol had entered with the ice tea and was startled by the scene. Madison asked her to take care of Stanley while she stepped out for a moment then took Trace by the hand and dragged him out on the veranda.

  “Are you insane?” Madison said loudly, then cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “That is one of the most premier directors not only in Hollywood, but all over the world! How could you just come in and manhandle him like that?”

  “Despite his too open invitation, he could be the perp.”

  “The perp? Do you listen to yourself? The man is in his fifties and in case you missed it, walks with a slight limp and stutters! Since the gates were locked and hadn’t been tampered with, how do you suppose he got in? Scale the ten foot wall?”

  Madison had put her hands on her hips and glared up at her fierce protector. She was surprised by the look of defeat she read in his eyes. Softening a bit, she took him by the hand and tried to give him a smile.

  “I understand that you are just trying to do your job. I can’t fault you for that. That’s your line of work. But this is my line of work and feeling up the man who is going to make my career isn’t a good thing.”

  “I wasn’t feeling him up,” Trace grunted.

  “What do you call it then?”

  “Patting him down. There is a big difference.”

  “You had me fooled,” Madison said with a snort.

  Trace stepped closer and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t feel up men. I save that for my woman.”

  Chill bumps chased each other up and down Madison’s body. She tried to keep her focus on the issue at hand, but was overwhelmed by visions of Trace feeling his way up her body. The titillating thoughts left a warm sensation within her.

  “Yes, well,” Madison said and cleared her throat. He was too close. She had to remember that she was just a job.

  “Well what?”

  “Well, now that we have that cleared up, I can continue with my meeting. Excuse me,” she said and moved past him as fast as she could back into the house.

  “Stanley,” Madison began, “I’m so sorry about that. We’ve had a few… security issues here. Better safe than sorry.” She gave Stanley a big smile and sat back down next to him. He didn’t look happy, but accepted her explanation.

  “Where… where was I?”

  “The script. Was there some changes you wanted to make?”

  “Well, not… not exactly. The f…final scene is the t…topic of discussion on the set,” he stuttered out and fumbled through the script. Handing it to Madison, he pointed out a scene.

  “This… this one. I th… think that instead of using a s…stunt person, perhaps you could do your own s…stunt.”

  “Like hell she will.”

  Madison had opened her mouth to speak but had been interrupted by Trace. God this was a nightmare.

  “Trace, please,” she began but seeing the look in his eyes, knew it would be a cold day in hell before he would let her go through this. It was due to be shot in a few weeks and somehow she didn’t think they would find this stalker by then.

  Trace marched over and snatched the script from Stanley’s hand and read the scene. Madison watched a red patch creep from under his shirt and move up his neck. He looked furious.

  He took several deep breaths before he handed the script back to Stanley, surprising Madison, in a nice manner. “No.”

  “Now… now see here, I d… don’t know who y… you are, but this is m… my film and I s… say what goes,” Stanley sputtered out. Madison had never seen Stanley mad before. She was sure this was the end of her career.

  “Then she doesn’t finish the film,” Trace said and took a seat across from them. He stretched out his legs casually and crossed his arms.

  Madison and Stanley looked at each other, then back to Trace. “Trace, please. This really is my decision.”

  “Not on my watch. Either a stunt person is used or it doesn’t happen at all.”

  Stanley stood and rolled up the script. He gave Madison a nod before speaking. “We… we’ll talk on set. Good day.” Turning, he left.

  Madison hung her head. She raised her hands to her head and rubbed her temples trying in vain to ward off the swift arriving migraine.

  “You think I’m being unreasonable?”

  Madison looked up at Trace’s question. “Damn right I do.” She surprised even herself with that reply.

  “Then fire me.”

  His statement took her by surprise. Fire him? Was he kidding? She needed him.

  That thought shocked her. When she really thought about it, did she really need him in particular or would any bodyguard do?

  Without him, there would be less headaches and hassles, less drama in her life. She wouldn’t be so frustrated at his crass comments and arrogance. She also wouldn’t be longing for his never-to-be-felt touch at night. How many times had she crept to the door that connected his room to hers and listened? And when had it become his room? This whole situation was getting out of control.

  Terminating him was best for everyone involved, wasn’t it? She was just a job and she was sure tha
t he could find another one with no problem. Yes, it was for the best.

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” she said, going against what her mind told her was best, going with what her heart longed for.

  “Good. Then no more nonsense of you doing your own stunts.”

  “We’ll discuss it as that particular scene gets closer to being filmed.”

  “I’m not kidding, Madison. I don’t want to take a chance on you getting hurt or worse.”

  “I’m sure there will be plenty of people there to ensure my safety.”

  “That’s my job,” Trace said. Madison thought he sounded a little possessive. It kind of thrilled her.

  “I meant stunt wise. The pros. They know the contraptions inside and out. I’ll be fine.”

  Trace scowled at her. Madison thought he was trying his best into scaring her into backing out. It wasn’t working. Besides, the stunt was weeks away.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said, sounding dejected and in charge all at the same time. Madison thought it cute, but didn’t disclose that information. Instead she smiled up at him and held out her hand.

  “Deal. Shake?”

  Trace took her hand and shook it briefly before he pulled her close to him. Madison was too startled to speak. His other hand snaked up to bury in her hair and grip tightly, but not painfully before tilting her head backwards.

  A slow throb began between Madison’s legs. She knew Trace was rough and unrefined but that didn’t deter her shameless reaction to his body. Madison leaned back with his pull, excited and anxious to see where this would go. He leaned over her and rubbed his whiskered chin against her neck while his lips touched her earlobe in the softest way.

  Madison arched her back and pressed her breasts against his chest, not caring how wanton she must look. Trace turned her on and made her body hot like no other man had. Her breathing came fast, almost panting while her hands splayed his muscular, upper arms.

  “Now, see how easy it was to get to you?”

  Huh?

  Trace didn’t want to prove this point. Madison thought just because he was around, that she was completely safe. The truth of it was if someone wanted her dead, no amount of security could stop them.