Excerpt for Body Heat

Excerpt for Body Heat

The view is breathtaking, Hurst Rodriguez thought as he looked up at the snow covered mountains of the French Alps. He looked to his right. The view next to him wasn’t bad either. Rayna Wright, his charge, was all dolled up in a pink and yellow ski suit that molded to her spectacular nubile curves, giving a new meaning to the term snow bunny. It was hard to believe she was now twenty-one years old and considering leaving the nest. He had been her bodyguard for four years, since her father became President of the United States, and he wasn’t ready to give up the job. He could still recall the first day the two of them met. Rayna was loudly telling her father what he could do with his Secret Service protection and the President was embarrassingly trying to calm down his seventeen year old hellcat of a daughter before she caused a national scandal. They had grown to respect each other over the last few years…which didn’t necessarily mean they liked each other. President Wright’s re-election guaranteed him a job for the next four years, even though Rayna kept insisting she was much too old for a babysitter. In some aspects she was right. There was no way the African American beauty could be mistaken for anybody’s baby, but in other ways she was still just a child.

He watched her sometimes as she sat alone in the family room by the fireside. She liked to drink hot chocolate and read romance novels with the aid of her Braille reader. She had been legally blind from birth but that had not stopped her from growing up wild and rambunctious, hamming it up in front of the media and all the while charming the world with her southern accent and her deep-dimpled smile. But there were some moments when he looked past the bravado and saw the real her. The frightened one who wasn’t sure what life had in store for her, wondering if the world would look past her blindness and see her for what she really was. Tears would often fill those brown eyes and make him feel helpless because he knew a lot about being a bodyguard but absolutely nothing about being a young woman. Maybe if the President and First Lady would have had more children Rayna would not be so lonely. For him it was just the opposite. He grew up wishing his mother would stop having children. Being the eldest of ten children was no picnic and often meant he was responsible for taking care of them. Rayna had grown up alone and often over-protected by her loving parents so it didn’t surprise him that they had a hissy-fit when they found out she wanted to go skiing without them. She just put her hands on her hips, cocked an upward chin and told them she was a grown woman and could damn well go on a vacation alone. Alone meant he was to be the only one to accompany her. The President had given him one of those I’ll kill you if you lay a finger on my baby looks, which Hurst knew Andrew Wright meant. He wouldn’t say the thought hadn’t crossed his mind a couple of times, but protecting her from harm outweighed his need for sex.

Hurst gently reached for Rayna’s elbow and led her up the stairs of the chalet her father had rented for the two of them. He, being a trained cook, would prepare their meals and tend to her every need while shielding her from the enemy and making sure she had a good time on the slopes. He had been on skiing trips with the family before; Rayna was good, even though she couldn’t use the big mountains. The place they were at, Big Blue Mountains, catered to people with physical handicaps and was often the site where the winter Special Olympics was held. The President and his family had been visiting there since Rayna was a child and it would have been a shame for her to miss it this year just because her father had other obligations. Hurst let go of her elbow once they were inside. Rayna didn’t mind a little assistance every now and then but she was fiercely independent and wanted to do things on her own. She had this wild idea about moving out and getting herself a little studio apartment in New York where she could practice her sculpting. She also wanted to do something with computers, like becoming a consultant. Hurst wasn’t sure how all this was going to work out but he would be there for her for the next four years whether she wanted him there or not. Rayna used her hands to feel her way around the stylishly renovated chalet, counting the steps from the door to the sofa and embedding the path to memory.

“I’m going to get our stuff,” he told her once he was sure she was safe. Safe meant checking the rooms, the closets and under the beds to make sure it was free from assassins or explosives.

“Okay. I’ll just get comfortable.”

Hurst hurried out to the car. The temperature had dropped and it was beginning to snow. He grabbed their luggage first and carried it inside and then went back for the food. He found Rayna seated on a chaise beside the fireplace in the family room. He liked that room out of all the rooms in the chalet. It was big and airy and painted white to give the room more depth. The sight of the French Alps right outside the window was spectacular and inviting with its snow-covered tops soaring up into the clouds. “I’ll light the fireplace just as soon as I put the groceries up.”

“Okay,” she replied, turning toward his voice.

Hurst shuddered. She had the voice of an angel…deep and throaty…and a smile that could light up Manhattan. Dark sooty lashes shielded eyes the color of melted chocolate. If she kept smiling at him like that all the frozen food he had in his arms would melt. “I’ll just be a minute.” Hurst dashed off to the kitchen with the groceries, unpacked them and hurried back to the family room. Rayna had taken off her parka and boots and had managed to find the remote control and turned on the wide screen television set. Hurst lit the fire, stoked it with fresh wood and put the safety shield up in front of it. “I’m going to take your things up to your room and light the fire in there.”

Rayna nodded. She wiggled her toes around in her pink socks, trying to build up the circulation.

She has the cutest little feet, he mused. “You’ll be warm and toasty in a minute.” He went out of the room, grabbed the luggage in the lobby and headed upstairs. He put his things into one of the bedrooms. It contained a single king-sized bedroom suite, a private bath, and a balcony. It also had a closet large enough to stash his weapons and security gear. He put most of it away for safety’s sake and locked the closet door before proceeding across the hall to Rayna’s room. The room assigned to her also had a king-sized bed, a balcony, and private bath equipped with a special toilet and sink, a shower with rails and a magnifying mirror. He lit the fireplace and made sure the safety shield could not be moved by her accidentally. He picked up her suitcase and unpacked her things, gently stroking the lace of the pristine white panties and bras she had brought along. He put her toiletries in the bathroom, trying not to look at the tampons and sanitary items, and then placed her warm flannel robe on the foot of her bed. He left her books in her bag, but placed it on the nightstand so she could easily reach them, and then went back downstairs to start dinner.

* * * *

“What’s for dinner?” Rayna asked, detecting his presence.

He hadn’t made a sound, just stood there and watched her. “I was thinking about preparing a couple of steaks, but I’ve brought along a lot of stuff just in case you’re not in the mood for red meat.”

“Steaks will be fine, just as long as I can have a baked potato.”

Hurst pulled two huge potatoes out of the grocery sack and placed them on the tiled counter. “Loaded?”

“Yes, please, and heavy on the sour cream.”

She was the only person he knew who shared his tastes in food. Rayna could also eat more than any woman he ever knew and she never seemed to gain a pound. She was barely five feet, six inches tall, and probably weighed one-hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. She was also not afraid to try anything new he prepared for her to eat, which made the cook at the White House pretty pissed off at times. Rayna always picked at her plate and complained about the tastes when he didn’t prepare her meals. He didn’t mind cooking for her because he liked being in her company. The things he had learned from his father really came in handy at times. He had literally grown up in the kitchen of the family’s restaurant, watching his father prepare meals for the everyday Joe on up to royalty. He probably would have become a chef if he had not joined the military and decided on a career in the federal government.

“And for dessert, can we have pecan pie?”

“I’m way ahead of you, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled the fresh pecans from the sack. “I also brought along your favorite whipped cream to top it off with.”

There was gleam in her eyes as she salivated over the thought of the rich southern dessert. She liked it when he added chocolate chips to the mixture and toasted the pecans in butter before he baked it.

“Can I help you cook?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say no but he knew she didn’t have anything better to do at the moment. “Of course you can. Would you like to make the salad?” He had purchased the ingredients already pre-sliced, so all she had to do was the get them out of the package and toss it in the bowl with their favorite Caesar dressing. He cranked up the grill on the stove and put on the steaks, and then he checked on the potatoes that were already baking in the oven. He watched Rayna prepare the salad out of the corner of his eye, making sure that the bowl didn’t get pulled to the edge of the counter. “Would you like to help me with the pie?” he asked as she finished the salad.

“Can I have the batter spoon when we finish?”

“That’s about a zillion calories.”

“I can afford them,” she bragged, playfully lifting her shirt and showing him her flat stomach.

He gulped. If she didn’t cut that out he was going to lose it. “It’s going to catch up with you when you reach your forties and then your husband will pack you off to fat camp.”

Rayna giggled, the sound filling the kitchen. “Not likely. I’m never getting married.”

Hurst put the ingredients before her. “We’ll start with the brown sugar and then work our way up to the eggs and butter.” Why doesn’t she want to get married?

Rayna deftly opened the sugar with her small hands, feeling around for the measuring cup, scooping out two cups and pouring it into the big mixing bowl. She followed his directions until all the ingredients had been added and it was time for her to stir. He got the ready-made pie shell from the bag, and grabbed the pecans from the end of the counter. “I’ll blanch the pecans while you mix the batter.” Several minutes later he added the pie to the oven next to the potatoes and watched as Rayna attacked the sugary mixture on the spoon. “If I bring you home with cavities your mother is going to kill me.”

“No, she won’t,” Rayna replied. “This is a secret I’m taking to my grave.”

Hurst smiled. Rayna had a fantastic sense of humor once you got past the shield she often erected around her. And a great set of lips, he noted as she wrapped them around the spoon. His penis twitched in his pants. “I’d better check on the food.” He moved over to the stove, flipped the steaks and tested the potatoes with a fork.

“Make sure my steak is medium-well,” Rayna said with the spoon deep in her mouth. She pulled it out slowly, as if charming him. “I hate to taste blood when I eat.”

“Over-cooking it will make it tough.”

“I have a good set of teeth and I know how to use them.”

She demonstrated with the spoon. He’d have to take a quick run up the snowy mountain if she didn’t stop doing what she was doing with that spoon. “Go wash those grubby little hands and that face while I set the table.”

Rayna carefully scooted off the bar stool and walked over to the sink to wash while he got out the silverware. Less than an hour later they were seated at the table attacking their meal.

* * * *

“Have you ever been in love?” Rayna asked him as they sat in the family room listening to music.

“Once.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I was too old for her.”

Rayna looked over to him. “That’s not possible. You can’t be any older than thirty, so what was she—ten?”

“No, but not old enough for a healthy relationship.”

“What did you love about her?”

“You’re going to miss the rest of the song.”

“I’ve heard it before,” she answered jokingly. “What did you love about her?”

He wasn’t really comfortable discussing his feelings with anyone but Rayna seemed genuinely interested. “I loved the way her eyes twinkled when she smiled and the way her giggles sounded.”

“I always knew you were a bit of the romantic,” Rayna exclaimed. “I can just see you charging after her on a big white horse and sweeping her off her feet.”

Hurst smirked. “You read too many of those romance books.”

“How else am I going to find out about life?” she replied innocently. “It’s not like my parents are allowing me to have one.”

“They let you come on this trip.”

“Only because you’re here with me.” She formed those luscious brown lips into a pout. “Do you know that I’ve never had my first kiss or been out on a date yet?”

Sure he did. It was part of his job to keep it that way. “Well, if we don’t destroy France, maybe your father will let you go out one of these days.”

“Unchaperoned?”

“Probably not. I’ll probably will be there making sure he doesn’t touch you below the collar.”

She pouted. “You take the fun out of everything.”

“It’s my job,” he replied. He would also kill the first man that laid a hand on her.

Rayna settled back in the chair and listened to the movie. “What’s sex like, Hurst?”

He sat frozen for a moment, not sure if he should answer her or not. “It’s great, when you’re with the right person.”

“How will I know if I’m with the right person?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking your mother these questions?”

She shook her head. “No, she won’t tell me the truth. She wants to keep me a little girl forever.”

He could understand that. Her mother didn’t want her to get hurt. It was bad enough that her sight had been taken from her.

“My eyes have nothing to do with my heart,” Rayna stated, as if reading his mind. “I don’t need eyes to have sex.”

“No, you don’t, but you also shouldn’t rush into it, either. First you get that date, and then you date some more for a couple of years, and then you can think about having sex after you’re married.”

“I probably will not need a man by then,” she replied. “I probably will be old and have worn out a couple of vibrators.”

Hurst nearly choked. Now where did she learn about those from? “Save your money, honey. Plastic doesn’t compare to the real thing.”

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