Under His Protection by Karen Erickson Page B

him was how she acted toward every man she met. Deep down,
he knew it wasn’t.
    Maybe, just maybe, she wanted only him and
no one else.
    Mason snorted and shook his head. Hell, a
man could dream.

Chapter Five

    “You’re not causing any trouble out there,
are you?”
    Blake sighed. Unbelievable. Her father sent
her away almost a week ago so he wouldn’t have to deal with her.
She hadn’t heard from him in days, yet he called her up out of the
blue and accused her of bad behavior.
    “Causing trouble is never my intent, Father.
You know this.” She called him father on purpose, keeping it
formal. She’d kept it formal for years.
    “I don’t want to hear any outrageous stories
coming from Russell. You need to stay home, stay low key.”
    Anger spiked her blood pressure and she
closed her eyes, searching for peace. He always thought the
absolute worst of her. She was sick of it. “I’m not doing anything
outrageous, trust me.” She actually started painting a couple of
days ago, all the gorgeous fall colors, the turning leaves
inspiring her. She’d locked herself up in her studio for hours each
day, painting furiously. Not bothering to talk to Mason or tell him
what she was doing.
    Earlier today, she had lunch at the Whitney
Café, visiting with Suzanne and making plans to get together later
in the week.
    She refused to talk to Mason beyond the
cursory polite comments or telling him her plans for the day when
he asked. It was easier that way. Supposedly.
    Mason had come with her to lunch, always her
shadow. Lurking outside the cafe, he’d kept watch on her, though he
wasn’t as obvious as last time. He’d eventually ordered a sandwich
and sat on the patio, close enough that she could see him. Suzanne
had never questioned it and Blake had felt the need to make up a
story about paranoid parents and a bodyguard.
    It was as close to the truth as she could
get.
    They’d kept a certain distance, she and
Mason, both physical and emotional, and she’d grown somewhat used
to it. They went about their business, Mason spending most of his
day in the smaller cabin working if Blake stayed home. If she went
out, he followed.
    “Things are going well here. Numbers are up
and support is strong,” her dad said, tearing Blake from her
thoughts.
    “That’s great.” She should care, really she
should. But she’d become numb to it all. He’d been absent
practically her entire life and she’d grown used to it. This
election was more important to him than anything else.
    Certainly more important than his family,
she knew this from personal experience.
    “I’d like you to be back here on Election
Day, preferably the night before.” His voice lowered and he sounded
almost pained. “It would please me to have your support,
Blake.”
    Tears threatened and she swallowed hard,
refusing to cry. Crying got her nowhere in front of this man. It
usually made him angrier, frustrated, whatever. Tears never got a
positive reaction. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll be
there.”
    “Perfect. It’ll look good, surrounded by my
beautiful wife and daughter, a nice photo op for the various media
that’ll be in attendance. You know how much they love those.”
    Right. That’s all she was useful for, a
photo op. Well, unless she got snapped in a bikini. Then she became
a photo disaster.
    “I have to go,” she choked out, hardly able
to speak. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she let it,
didn’t bother wiping it away. As if she wanted to feel that tear
burn into her heated skin. “Bye.”
    Blake hung up, barely hearing her father’s
goodbye. She set the phone carefully on the end table and perched
on the edge of the couch, clutching her knees so tight, her
knuckles went white.
    She felt like a useless little princess set
up high in the castle tower. Only brought out when necessary, for
appearance’s sake, and then banished to a remote island for bad
behavior. Like she was some sort of criminal.
    It didn’t matter how