The Bodyguard Contract Read online

  “My parents are getting married?”

  “Stay focused, Red,” Ian complained. “I love you. Come home with me.”

  “I am home. We both are. You’re our home, Ian.” Lara smoothed her hand over the baby. “But you haven’t answered my question.”

  “What question?” Ian murmured, his mouth traveling down the side of her neck.

  She tipped her head back, allowing him more access. “Why you felt the need to lock the door.”

  “The door?”

  “Yes, I distinctly remember saying…” He nipped at the delicate hollow of her collarbone, then immediately soothed the spot with his tongue.

  Lara trembled. “I wasn’t running anywhere. But you locked me in anyway.”

  “I didn’t explain?” Ian’s mouth dipped between her breasts, kissed the rapid beat of her heart, watched her nipples pucker in response. “I thought for sure…”

  “Ian…” His mouth found her beaded nub, nibbled at it through the cotton. Lara gasped, and her insides liquefied.

  “It’s my hormones, Red.” Ian returned to her mouth, nudged her lips apart. “They’re raging.”

  Epilogue

  Quentin “Mac” MacAlister watched the young couple twirl around the dance floor from his place beside the bar. The bride’s pearl-white evening gown sparkled in the ballroom lights with a radiance that only a new love merited.

  They’d been married several weeks already, having done the deed in France. Mac’s disappointment at not seeing his final child wed was forgotten when the couple circled in front of him. Lara MacAlister’s face beamed. She blew her father-in-law a kiss and showed off her belly—big with child.

  “They’re beautiful together, aren’t they, Mac?”

  Without looking away from the sight, he hugged his own bride of forty years. “That they are, Christel. That they are.”

  She sighed the sigh of a mother losing her last child. One of joy, but forlorn at the same time. Mac turned toward her and smiled with affection. Not quite a foot shorter than his own six-two, with sea- smoked eyes and hair the color of ravens, Christel MacAlister was blessed with the refined features of her Scottish ancestors. The same features which left her with the beauty of a woman in her forties rather than her sixties.

  She smiled back, love shimmering in her eyes.

  “He’s good for her, dearest. He chased away her fears,” Mac said. Fears that couldn’t be hidden from family, he thought.

  “She chased away his, too.”

  “Aye, she did.” Mac chuckled. Leave it to his lass to balance the scales. A trait she had passed on to their daughter Kate and now to their daughters-in-law, Celeste and Lara.

  “They’ll have a strong child. With Scot blood running through him,” he said with an arrogance that survived a dozen generations. His gaze shifted once again back to the center of the floor where the music had stopped and an impromptu applause was taking place. He watched Ian pull Lara into his arms and kiss her with a fierceness that roused some cheering.

  To think he’d almost lost them both six months ago. Fear prodded his heart, but Mac quickly banished the feeling. It was the time for celebrating life and its blessings, not worrying about what might have been.

  He could already see a titian-haired baby on his lap, smiling and cooing, tugging on his thick white beard. The picture restored his good humor and he toasted the couple with the glass of whiskey in his hand. “Yes, fine Scottish babies.”

  “Who’ll be half Irish, MacAlister. The better half I’m thinking.”

  A hefty slap on Mac’s shoulder sent the liquor spewing from his mouth.

  He swung around to see Jon Mercer grinning with delight. The man falls in love, and somehow finds a sense of humor after thirty years. A funny sight on a bulldog face, thought Mac perversely as he wiped his chin. “You just wasted forty-year-old scotch, man. That’s a sin against God.”

  Mac sighed. The man was family now. Although Mac hadn’t decided if he’d vote for Mercer if he decided to run for President. They’d yet to debate any issues. Then there was the fact, Mercer was ex-army. Anyone with half a brain knew the Navy was the only military worth serving.

  “Don’t forget our grandchild will be carrying the name Mercer.” Jon smiled, not the least bit intimated by Mac’s scowl.

  A promise his boy, Ian, had made. And if it was a girl? Mac thought. What kind of name would that be for an angel? “I won’t be forgetting that, you Irish—”

  “Quentin MacAlister.”

  Mac bit off the last word while the bulldog laughed. In his lifetime, he’d gone head-to-head with many world leaders, often taking pleasure in the fight. Christel was another matter. Experience had taught him when his wife used a certain tone of voice, it never paid to tangle with her because he never won. He adored the woman, but sometimes she could be a tyrant and Ian’s reception wasn’t the time or the place to do battle. Not if he wanted to live.

  Mac suspected Mercer knew it, too, if the glint in the man’s eye was any indication.

  After a stern look at her husband, Christel smiled at their guest. “Would you care for a drink, Jon? Mac has brought a bottle of his best for the occasion. I’m sure he would like you to join him in a toast.” The elbow that jabbed Mac’s stomach wasn’t as gracious as her next question. “Wouldn’t you, Mac?”

  Mac sighed rather than cringed at the words, his bushy white brows drawing together into a deep V while he poured the drink for Mercer. One more waste of his best scotch. Irish, hah! The thought of conspiring with the enemy grated against every bone that made him a MacAlister. Nevertheless, he’d do it to keep the peace at Ian’s reception. With a last glance at his wife’s determined expression, Mac raised his glass with the bulldog’s.

  “Here’s to the baby’s last name. A Scottish dynasty in the making,” Jon proposed.

  “I’ll not be drinking to any toast you’d—”

  Startled, Mac stopped and looked at the Irishman, whose expression was full of amusement. “A dynasty?” Mac stroked his beard.

  Kate’s husband, Roman, was Italian. They’d giv en Mac a beautiful cherub, Kyla Anne MacAlister, with raven hair like her grandma and Mac’s own blue eyes.

  And now Cain’s wife, Celeste, was expecting in the spring. With twins.

  It was a good beginning.

  “Well now, a dynasty. There’s a thought.” He studied Mercer, suddenly pleased. The heathen might not be so bad after all. And Mac certainly wasn’t the type of fellow to hold a grudge. What’s more, Christel liked the sod and Mac enjoyed indulging his wife whenever possible.

  Suddenly, Ian picked up Lara and twirled her around. Laughter rang out from the dance floor. Mac’s mouth curved slightly. Aye, the boy will cherish the lass.

  Mac slapped his friend on the back and grinned when the whiskey sloshed a bit. “A toast then,” he said, his agreement booming across the room like a cannon. “To the last name, MacAlister.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-2259-5

  THE BODYGUARD CONTRACT

  Copyright © 2007 by Donna Young

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.


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  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Books by Donna Young

  Cast of Characters

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Copyright