Bodyguard Under the Mistletoe by Cassie Miles Page A

would have been a hell of a lot more comfortable on the sofa, he couldn’t allow himself to take off his shoes and relax. If he did that, he’d be asleep in minutes.
    Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, he listened. Both doors to the bedrooms were ajar, and he could hear Abby and Fiona shifting in their beds. He thought of Fiona’s long hair spread across the pillows, and her graceful body stretched out across the sheets. Her face in repose. Her lips.
    He hadn’t planned to kiss her, but he didn’t regret that moment. It tasted right. And the sensual jolt to his system had gotten his heart pumping and his blood circulating. He felt better now than he had since he woke in the hospital. If he made love to her, he’d probably be completely cured.
    A sound outside the window interrupted his reverie. The wind rattling the bare branches of the aspens near the front door? He wouldn’t take any chances. Gun in hand, he went to the curtains and peered around the edge. From this limited vantage point, he saw nothing suspicious.
    One-man guard duty was difficult. If Wentworth had been here, one of them could have gone outside to check while the other stayed here. Alone, he couldn’t risk leaving the house unprotected.
    He checked his wristwatch. Wentworth was supposed to be here any minute.
    He sank into the rocking chair again. Waiting. Listening.
    The next sound seemed to come from overhead. A tree squirrel running across the roof? He looked up.
    It was quiet again.
    Then he heard the tires from Wentworth’s vehicle pulling up the gravel drive. He stood at the front door, watching as Wentworth got out of the car, and motioned him inside.
    With the door bolted, Jesse said, “I heard something on the roof.”
    â€œHow big?”
    â€œDon’t know. It was a scraping noise.”
    Wentworth exhaled a weary sigh. It had been a long day for him, too. “What should we do about it?”
    â€œYou stay here. I’ll go out and take a look around.”
    Though Jesse would have preferred using a rifle, his left arm wasn’t steady enough to be trusted. He took his handgun and stepped outside. Earlier today, he’d had an opportunity to check out her house from various angles, figuring out which direction an intruder might take. But he hadn’t considered the roof.
    The cold night air was bracing. After taking a moment to allow his eyes get accustomed to the moonlight, he circled around to the rear of the house. None of the aspens at the front of the house were good for climbing; the branches started too far from the ground. At the back, there was one tall pine tree.
    He stared into the depths of its branches. Nothing there.
    The roof of Fiona’s one-story house formed a shallow peak—just enough of an angle to encourage the snow toslide off. He saw nothing in the back or the front. But he sensed a threat.
    When he returned to the inside of the house, Wentworth escorted him into the kitchen. “Here’s the deal, Jesse. I’ll change those dressings. Then you go to bed. I’ll wake you in three hours to relieve me.”
    â€œYou should go back to the Carlisle Ranch.”
    â€œThey don’t need me. Our man, Neville, is there. And Burke. And a whole mob of cowboys with rifles.”
    Though Jesse didn’t like to admit that he needed help, he wasn’t a fool. “I won’t lie. I could use some rest.”
    He had the feeling that the next couple of days weren’t going to get any easier.

Chapter Nine
    By dawn of the following day, Jesse felt damn good. The aching lessened. His drumming headache was gone. He’d recovered a decent range of movement in his arm and shoulder but continued to wear the sling as a reminder to be careful.
    Best of all, his appetite had returned. He sat at the table in Fiona’s cheery tangerine kitchen, scarfing down the excellent pancakes she’d whipped up. On the other side of the