Barefoot With a Bodyguard by Roxanne St. Claire Page A

‘special guests,’ but…”
    She took a breath and paused, as if she couldn’t remember where she’d actually started that sentence, since it might have gone on for a full minute. “But,” she continued, nodding as she picked up her train of thought, “there is no swearing without a penalty, so bad words in my presence get tallied, and the funds go to the Jamaican Children’s Fund so that I may bring my nephews home.” Another breath, and a big smile of bright white teeth against dark coffee skin. “Rules are rules, and they cannot, will not, and may not be broken, ever.”
    Kate didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Okay, I don’t generally swear too much.” Though she might be starting soon. “But I will tell you that I’m not here to follow or break rules. I’m going to study for the bar, soak up some sunshine, get my head cleared, and then fog it all up again at the end of the day with a good, stiff drink. So, let’s not bog things down with rules, since there are already a number of people determined to get in the way of my plans.”
    “All righty, then, but I’ll need your phone as well as anything that has your name on it, right now. I have a new one here for you that only your father can call.” She reached into her pocket and held out a brand new iPhone. “We’ll monitor your phone in case someone tries to get in touch with you. Mr. Gabriel has it all figured out.”
    “Oh, does he now?”
    Both eyebrows went up now. “He said you were feisty.”
    “He…”
    “Mr. Benjamin.”
    She closed her eyes, her blood pressure spiking with each new comment. He was passing judgment on her now? With the housekeeper/spy lady who charged for curses and scolded people for long showers?
    “This was so not what I wanted,” she muttered.
    “You can’t always get what you want,” Poppy said.
    Kate shook her head as she crossed the room. “So I’ve heard.”
    “But you do have a beautiful home to stay in on a tropical island, a kind man whose entire existence is to make sure you’re safe, and the best housekeeper south of the Mason-Dixon Line and east of the Mississippi.”
    “That may be tr—”
    “And you’re alive and safe.”
    She couldn’t argue with that.
    “So be joyful!” Poppy practically shouted, and extended her sizable arms.
    Then Kate did laugh. How could she not? “I’m going to try,” she assured the other woman, heading to the door. “I’ll give you my phone on your way out. In the meantime, I guess I’ll go see what the warden suggests for lunch.”
    Poppy stopped her with a large hand held up in the air.
    “Sorry, I mean Benjamin, my ever-faithful bodyguard.” She winked at Poppy. “See? Joyous.”
    The hand became a single finger pointing up and down Kate’s body. “That’s not very many clothes, Miss Mathilda.”
    Okay, now she was going to swear, because it would hurt when she pulled out her own hair from the roots in abject frustration.
    Instead, Kate lowered her voice and reached for the icy demeanor she hoped she’d exhibit in the courtroom…if she ever passed the damn bar exam.
    “It’s very hot outside,” she managed to say through only a slightly clenched jaw. “And I realize that I’m here under bizarre and mitigating circumstances, which, I might add, continue to get stranger and more palliative with each passing moment, but I don’t need your guidance on my wardrobe decisions.”
    The other woman crossed her arms and let her generous lower lip protrude a bit. “He’s a man,” she finally said.
    “Yes, I noticed.” Maybe more than she wanted to.
    “And these are mighty tight quarters.”
    An old fire shot up her back and seared her brain, making Kate lean closer and stare down Poppy, because this conversation just went from amusing to annoying and was headed straight to a full-blown argument and dismissal.
    “Are you suggesting I adjust the way I dress so as not to tempt him? Forget the fact that he is ostensibly here to protect me.