The Bodyguard's Baby (Billionaire Bodyguard Series) by Kristi Avalon

pinched the bridge of his nose until the dampness went away, requiring more effort than he expected.
    Then, for added torture, he picked up one of two letters from Adele. A glossy professional photo dropped out of the folded page. He held it reverently at the edges to keep his fingerprints from messing up the pristine finish.
    The photo captured a moment of pure happiness and endless possibilities frozen in time. James held his arm around his wife Adele, the two smiling with undiminished joy. Perched on Adele’s knee was a drooling, grinning six-month-old, with chipmunk cheeks and huge, innocent gray-blue eyes just like her daddy’s. Baby Grace.
    Pulling in a heavy breath, he turned the picture over. The message scrawled on the back in permanent blue ink ravaged him every time. See what you took from us?
    As his fingers shook, a blast of emotion exploded n his chest. He didn’t need to read Adele’s letter. The words were branded into his mind. Angry, hateful, broken hearted, accusatory words she’d lobbed against Slone. And he deserved every one of them. He hadn’t encouraged James to join the Marines, but he hadn’t discouraged his brother either. He regretted that every since day of his life that he continued to breathe, while his brother lay six feet in the ground.
    Breathing deep, he shook his head to clear it. The memory reminded him it was the end of the month, time to send another check to Adele.
    Behind him the knob of his door turned. Lindsey. Shit. He shoved the letters and photo back into the trunk and slammed the lid right as she walked in.
    “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
    “No,” he said with curt irritation. “But knocking before you barge into someone’s room is a decent gesture.”
    “I was worried about you.” She tugged the turban-shaped towel from her head, the wet dark blonde layers falling around her face. “You always get into the shower before me. I’m just making sure you’re okay.”
    “Fine,” he said through a tight jaw. He narrowed his eyes at her. Don’t sit on my bed, Lindsey. Don’t sit on the—
    Damn.
    She bounced down onto the edge of his mattress, drying the ends of her hair with the towel. “Listen, I want to apologize for last night.”
    “Don’t.”
    “I need to.”
    “Not necessary.”
    “Yes, it is,” she said firmly. “While I was showering, it gave me time to think.”
    The image of her naked body covered in water, surrounded by steam, gave him an instant hard-on. He swallowed a groan.
    “I realized you’re right.”
    “Probably.”
    She snorted. “At least let me finish. You were right about you being the only person I interact with, so you see the good and the grumpier sides of me, and I’m sorry I’ve been such awful company.”
    “You’re going through a lot.” He couldn’t look at her on his bed without wanting to lay her down on it and kiss her from her lips to her toes. Glancing around for something else to occupy his attention, he went around his bedroom picking up dirty socks and clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket in his closet.
    Meanwhile, she talked and dried her hair, oblivious to how much she affected him. How desperately he wanted to be wrapped in her softness to blunt the sharp edges of his secret pain. “I texted Kylie,” she said, “and my sister invited us over to Cade’s penthouse for dinner tonight.”
    “Sure. Whatever you want.”
    “Before that, I thought we could get out of the house for awhile. Just you and me.”
    He paused. “And do what?”
    “Well, there’s an ice skating rink about twenty minutes away. Since we’re stuck with each other, we might as well enjoy ourselves.”
    He could think of better ways to enjoy themselves. He shot a glance at his rumpled sheets. A moan slipped out and he covered it with a cough. “Yeah, we could use some fresh air. Have you ice skated before?”
    She shrugged. “No, there’s no ice in Las Vegas. But how hard could it be?”
    Now this could offer some serious