Protecting His Kidnapped Family - Leslie North Page 0,61
he was here to do—not moon over Tara Crumb. He was here to guard her and the other activists. That was all.
The sooner he got his head on straight and remembered that, the better.
Tara and his daughter emerged a short while later and he watched as they stopped at the slushie booth before Tara dropped Ashley off with the guys in the VIP tent. When she returned to his side, Clint did his best not to notice that flowery perfume of Tara’s swirling around him or the sudden tingle of heat when her arm brushed his in the crowd. “Your daughter is a delight.”
“Thanks,” he said, all too aware of her. “The nanny that just quit had other ideas.”
“Is that who that was?” Tara laughed again, the sound heading straight to Clint’s groin. God. What was it about this woman that got under his skin so bad? He shifted his weight and clasped his hands tighter behind his back. “From the way she flounced out of here earlier, I figured she was a debutante or something.”
Clint gave a low snort and squared his shoulders. He liked to keep his private and his professional life separate. It was rare for him to even talk about his private life while he was on the job, but something about her made it all too easy. He shouldn’t be enjoying this woman’s company or her jokes, and yet, he was. Way more than he should. “Thank you for taking Ashley to the bathroom for me. And getting her a slushie.”
“You’re welcome. And she seemed happy as a clam with your friends, but what girl wouldn’t be, with a blue Slush Puppy and two men fawning over her.” Tara grinned up at him, making his heart do a weird little dip. “Plus, she’ll have the best seat in the house for all the performances later.”
In a way, this rally reminded him more of a carnival than a protest. There were food vendors and speakers and later, a couple of folk rock, granola-fed bands were going to play. Not really his style. He preferred rock and metal type music—but considering his kid was here, he supposed he should be glad the offerings were family-friendly.
“Hmm,” Clint grunted. “I appreciate you stepping in like that. I don’t usually let my personal life interfere with my jobs.”
“Yeah. Me neither,” Tara said, staring at the stage, same as him. “Of course, I have no personal life to speak of, so that solves that problem.”
He found that hard to believe. A woman as gorgeous as her must have people lined up to date her. Clint wasn’t much into flirting at all, but she made it easy. “C’mon. I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true.” She raised her chin. “Work takes up all of my time these days. I’m determined to get this state-wide climate change bill enacted while I’m still interim executive director of GGE.”
Right. Clint had studied up on her dossier before this job, same as he had with the other potential targets SSoF were being paid to protect. She was temporary head of Go Green Energy, a regional non-profit that was fighting for legislation to combat climate change. Considering she was only twenty-seven, the fact that she’d been put in charge—even just as an interim director—was pretty damned impressive. She’d taken over the position after the last guy, Howard Steinman, had been killed the previous year. From what Clint read, that investigation was still pending, thus the reason he’d been hired for added security around Tara and the other people most visibly and vocally involved in trying to get this legislation passed. There was a group of opposing forces who, rumor had it, weren’t afraid to get violent to get their point across.
So, here Clint stood on a fine summer day, next to the most beautiful woman in the place, and he refused to give in to the attraction fizzing between them like shaken soda pop. Story of his life.
The guys at SSoF joked with him sometimes that he wasn’t happy unless he was miserable. That wasn’t exactly true. The truth was, Clint didn’t trust happiness. After all, when he was a kid, he’d been happy as could be right up until the day his mother had packed her bags and walked out of his life forever, saying she couldn’t take it anymore. He hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t been prepared at all—and when it happened, it had hit him all the harder as a result. Once that had happened, he