Because a Husband Is Forever by Marie Ferrarella Read Free Book Online Page B

gives me a chance to ask a few questions.”
    Dakota noted that her friend gave up any attempt at protest. “Is charm part of being a bodyguard?”
    â€œIt helps.” He looked over his shoulder at Ian. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Ian merely nodded. Randy inclined his head toward the other occupant of the booth. “Dakota, a pleasure.”
    â€œLikewise.”
    She watched Randy and MacKenzie leave. Was it her imagination, or did their bodies appear to be closer than the space around them necessitated? Maybe this was thestart of something good for MacKenzie. The woman had no social life outside of the show.
    Neither do you anymore.
    And it was going to stay that way, she decided firmly. Getting burned once was enough for her, at least until the next century. Clearing her throat, she looked back at the man beside her in the booth. “So, is stoicism the other part of being a bodyguard?”
    He ignored her question. Without Randy as a buffer, it was going to get painfully quiet at the table. Taking the initiative, he slid to the edge of the booth. “Look, we don’t have to stay.”
    But Dakota made no move to follow him out. Instead, she placed her hand on his wrist. “Sure we do. We’re the only ones who’ve placed their orders.”
    That stopped him for a moment. “I’m not much on conversation.”
    â€œThat’s okay. I am.” Mildly certain that she’d snuffed out his inclination to go, she took her hand from his wrist. “My father used to say I talked more than any three people he knew.”
    â€œSounds like a sharp man.”
    There was nothing she liked better than to talk about her family. A warm smile curved her mouth. “He is. He does the evening news on Channel Seven.”
    Most people she met already knew that, since Daniel Delany had been in the business for over thirty years and had been coming into people’s living rooms, delivering the news in one form or another. But she had afeeling that Ian Russell was not “most people.” More than likely, whatever didn’t touch his immediate sphere didn’t merit his interest.
    â€œHis name is Daniel Delany,” she added. As she watched, she thought she saw a vague spark of recognition filter through his eyes.
    He did follow the news, although he paid little attention to the perfectly groomed parade of newscasters who delivered it. After taking a long drink from the glass of beer, he finally acknowledged, “Name’s familiar.”
    She’d never met a living man without a pulse before, she thought. Still, there was an undercurrent of magnetism that transcended his less-than-lively delivery. Maybe it was the soft lighting, but he seemed to smolder.
    As if the proximity suddenly struck him as too close, Ian abruptly moved his place setting to the other side of the table so that they would face each other.
    About to protest his sudden rise to his feet, she realized that he was only seeking the shelter of distance and not leaving. Did she make him that uncomfortable? “I’ll tell him you said that the next time I talk to him,” she said.
    He nodded, hunting for some kind of response. He didn’t want her thinking he was a stone statue, although he’d already warned her about that, and besides, it should have made no difference what she thought.
    Still, because the atmosphere threatened to fill up with dead air, he asked what he thought was the obvious. “Stay in touch much? With your father?” he asked.
    â€œAs much as I can.” She broke a bread stick, nibblingon one end. She hadn’t realized that she was as hungry as she was. The urge for an unscheduled pilgrimage to the land of used, overpriced possessions had come before she’d had anything for breakfast. She counted herself lucky that her stomach hadn’t rumbled. “My parents live on the West Coast. California,” she added.
    West Coast