Protecting His Beautiful Lover - Leslie North Page 0,12
school, his next-door neighbor, an older retired teacher by the name of Mrs. Crocker, had volunteered to have his daughter stay with her until he could get home—which wouldn’t be too late, thankfully. Tara had said that once he installed security measures on her house, she wouldn’t need protection once she was in for the evening. Clint had talked with the woman casually over the backyard fence a few times and knew she used to teach at Ashley’s elementary school. She also headed the neighborhood watch group, so she seemed trustworthy enough. The only worry he had was Ashley’s opinion about the schedule change, since she wasn’t really big on change, but she’d gone over and inspected Mrs. Crocker’s garden several times and came back announcing it would be fine, since it would give her an opportunity to enlighten the older lady about the virtues of composting.
Better her than me, Clint thought, chuckling to himself as he headed over to Tara’s place later that night. Funny how all the pieces had fallen into place, like it was meant to be or something. He pulled up and parked in front of her little two-story Tudor-style house that looked like it was probably built in the 1920s. He got out and surveyed the area, taking note of all the exits and entry points to the home as he went. He’d need to know the layout of her place by heart for security reasons, if he was going to be effective. The neighborhood seemed relatively quiet and well-kept, with lots of manicured lawns and fenced-in yards. Not that different from his own area. That was good, since it would be easier for him to use the knowledge he had to design a layout for the cameras and such.
On the porch, he knocked on the door, noting the elaborate stone surrounding it with an arch at the top. The white limestone contrasted nicely with the red brick surrounding it. There were a few potted plants on either side, and a small garden. He wondered if Tara spent a lot of time tending it. The house itself looked nice enough, if a bit worn around the edges. Could use a new coat of paint on the timber trim, maybe some mortar around the brick window casings and on those tall chimneys. His place was a fixer-upper too, and he took pride in doing most of the reno himself, on the weekends and at night. Two-story and four bedrooms, it was bigger than he and Ashley needed, but he’d turned one of the bedrooms into a yoga studio for himself, so it worked out in the end.
He waited another moment, checked his watch, then rang the bell when no one answered his knock. He’d called before heading over to make sure Tara would be home and she said she would be. Huh. He leaned back to try to see in the tall, narrow window, but the curtains were pulled. There was a light on, though, so… His mind started spinning worst-case scenarios, because yeah. That’s what a security-expert-for-hire did. Had the person responsible for the attack at the rally this past Saturday somehow gotten Tara’s home address and come here? Was she in the house, hurt or worse? Should he bust down the door and charge to her rescue?
Before he could act on that impulse, the sound of several locks scraping sounded from the other side of the door. Clint released the breath he’d held without realizing it and clasped his hands behind his back, shaking his head at himself and wondering when he’d gotten so high-strung.
The door opened to Tara standing there, her phone to one ear as she waved him inside. Her pretty face looked a bit more drawn and anxious than he remembered from earlier that day, and he started to wonder if maybe his earlier thoughts about the attacker contacting her weren’t so far off the mark after all. He stepped into a small foyer and waited while she closed the door behind him and finished her call. Once she’d ended it, Clint gave a slight bow and small smile. “Your bodyguard, reporting for duty.”
Tara shoved her phone into the pocket of the pink hoodie she was wearing, then set about relocking all those locks. Three that he could see. Then she swallowed hard and faced him again, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Why?” He turned to face her, concerned at the hint of panic in