Page 29 of Thirsty Bodyguard Summer

“It is personal. You’re my client.”

“That isn’t the kind of personal I meant.”

I knew exactly what he meant.

The humor left his eyes.

He stepped nearer, giving me time to stop him.

I didn’t.

His T-shirt brushed my knuckles. He smelled like clean cotton, lime, and the faint salt of dried sweat. My pulse accelerated at my throat.

Shane lowered his voice. “Tell me to move.”

I should have.

Instead, I said, “You’re inside my space.”

“I noticed.”

“That usually means I reposition you.”

“I’m willing to cooperate.”

His mouth hovered inches from mine.

A sharp electronic tone split the quiet.

My earpiece flashed against my skin.

CODE 808.

I stepped away so quickly that my hip struck the counter.

Shane closed his eyes. “That system hates me.”

“It doesn’t know you well enough.”

I pressed the control. “Cassidy responding.”

“West patio sensor triggered,” the exterior agent said. “I’m checking it now.”

I crossed to the curtained doors without opening them. “Report before you approach the fence.”

“Visual is clear. A neighboring beach umbrella came over the divider and struck the sensor line. No person entered the side path.”

“Hold coverage while Carlos has it removed.”

“Understood.”

I called Carlos.

“The umbrella belongs to the next cottage,” he said. “I’m having it removed now.”

“Let me know when the route is clear.”

I waited until the exterior agent confirmed the side path was clear again.