Eva was frowning at him. “On TV, people always say that when they are trying to impersonate someone. So that everyone will think they’re on the level.”
N
ate grinned, his eyes sparkling. They were a warm brown color—everything about him was warm, almost honey-colored: his eyes, his tanned skin, his blond-streaked hair. “Good, a suspicious mind. That’ll keep you safe. Here, I’m calling now.” He dialed, hitting speakerphone so that they could all hear.
A second later, Ken’s voice was unmistakable. “Are you in town already?”
“Sure am,” Nate drawled. “At the house with your sister-in-law and her daughter right now. Already frightened the target off outside.”
The target. It sounded intimidatingly...military. Although he had been a Marine with Ken, so that made sense.
Ken was so lighthearted, funny and charming, that Stella tended to forget he’d ever been a military man. She had the sense that with Nate, it would be harder to forget.
“Damn,” Ken said. “Glad I called you in. I’m in town right now, I’ll be home soon, and you can let me know what I can do for support.”
“Will do.” Nate ended the call and looked at Eva. “Now you can be confident that I am who I say I am, and good on you for making me prove it.”
Eva was still giving him a suspicious look. But Stella suspected it was the more normal teenage look of I can’t tell if you’re talking down to me, rather than you might be an intruder. Finally, she looked over at Stella. “I’m going to head upstairs, if you don’t need me for anything.”
Stella glanced at Nate. “I don’t think we do. Tonight was the first time you’d seen Todd around here since this all started.”
“Then there’s no need for any debriefing,” Nate confirmed. “I’ll just sit down with your mom and talk the situation over. But if you have any questions about anything, or if you’re worried about something happening, I’m happy to talk things over.”
“Sure.” With that promising monosyllable, Eva disappeared up the stairs.
Stella sighed, looking after her. “She’s usually friendlier. I think she’s freaked out.”
“Not surprising. I would be, in her place.”
Surprised at his warm tone, Stella glanced up at him. In her experience, men weren’t that tolerant of sullen teenagers. But Nate smiled at her and said kindly, “I hope we can make sure that she doesn’t have to be freaked out any longer. And neither do you.”
Stella was hesitantly, tentatively, starting to hope so too.
***
Nate
Nate followed Stella—the client—Ms. Davidson—into the front room.
He had to work out what to call her. Ordinarily he’d call the person he was protecting by their title. But if he’d just met Ken’s sister-in-law socially, he’d have called her by her first name.
And Stella was just there, ringing through his mind like a bell, ready to be used.
She sat on a couch, light and graceful. He’d been struck already by how like a dancer she moved, and how the long fall of her hair and the flowy skirt she wore enhanced the effect.
She probably did it on purpose, to catch people’s attention. Right? Except right now, her shoulders were tight with anxiety and she kept looking over her shoulder, checking the door, glancing at the stairs where her daughter had disappeared. She didn’t seem interested in catching anyone’s attention right now.
With effort, Nate dragged his brain back on track. He wasn’t usually this distractible. “Ms. Davidson—”
“Oh, Stella, please!” she interrupted immediately. “Calling me Ms. Davidson makes me feel like I’m as old and staid as my sister.”
Nate noted her phrasing. Usually people used parents in that sort of protest, not siblings. “Stella, then.” The name came out a little too slowly, felt too much like he was caressing it with his voice.
Jesus, he needed to pull himself together. “Stella, first I want you to understand that I’m committed to keeping you and your daughter safe. Ken asked me to come assess the situation, and I can tell you just from what I saw outside that it’ll be a good idea for me to stick around for a little while, get an idea of how this guy works, see if we can’t get him to leave you alone.”
“Thank you.” Stella’s hands were twisting in her lap. Nate was struck by the—insane—urge to go sit next to her on the couch and take those hands in his.
Client, he reminded himself. Client, client. Usually he didn’t think twice about making a move on a pretty woman, but that was in social situations. He’d never had to remind himself to be appropriately professional before.