Read Online Bodyguard by Suzanne Brockmann - Free Book Online Page A

sale table at Victoria’s Secret. A plain yet fashionable skirt in a neutral beige, also on sale. A white sweater. A pair of spring-weight wool pants.
    It wasn’t much, but it would get her through two or even more meetings. And there would be more than just one, she was sure of that.
    She was going to pack her new clothes in one of Griffin’s gym bags and carry them around with her, if she had to. No way was she going to let them get shredded or bled on or …
    But she wasn’t going to have to carry them around. This was over. She’d given back the money.
    She’d won.
    The tub was nearly full as she slipped into it, sighing her pleasure. She turned off the water with one foot and closed her eyes, letting herself truly relax for the first time in more than two days.
    Harry sat alone in his car outside the Lamont’s Farmingdale estate, pondering his next move.
    He and George had flipped a coin to see who would return to Long Island and keep an eye on Alessandra Lamont.
    Harry had lost.
    He hadn’t expected her to leave her house as Trotta’s deadline drew closer, and she’d surprised him by pulling out of the three-car garage in a nifty little sports car. He’d followed, expecting her only to be making a coffee run, but she’d surprised him again by making a quick stop at the dry cleaners on Main Street, and then heading over to the Sunrise Mall.
    He’d left his car near hers in the parking lot and followed on foot while she shopped. She went into four or five different stores, making a purchase from each one.
    It was weird. She had a death threat hanging over her head, and she was blithely buying underwear from Victoria’s Secret.
    He’d followed her home, still without her catching sight of him, and she’d pulled her car back into the oversize garage.
    She’d gone inside, and as he’d watched from the street,she’d turned on a few lights in the house, most of them upstairs.
    Harry made up his mind. He was going to do it. He was going to get out of the car and ring her doorbell and talk to her again. Maybe this time he’d get lucky and get through to her.
    Get lucky …
    He shook his head to clear it of unruly thoughts. He was not George. He was not even going to consider the possibility of her modeling that fancy lingerie she’d just bought. There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening, and he’d be far better off not letting his thoughts stray in that direction.
    He got out of his car, habit making him check that the dome light was off before he opened the door. He closed the door gently, also out of habit, glad he’d finally made the decision to take action.
    He’d decided to take action with that mess he was in with Marge and his kids, too. As soon as Alessandra Lamont was safely in the hands of the specialists from the Witness Protection Program, he was going to catch the next flight to Colorado and find out what the hell was going on, find out where the hell they’d all gone.
    But right now he had to give his full attention to her royal highness, Alessandra, Queen of Long Island. He truly hoped he wouldn’t catch her fresh out of the shower, with a towel wrapped around her head and a bathrobe on. He’d be damned distracted the entire time they spoke—with a serious slice of his attention focused on whether she was wearing anything underneath that bathrobe.
    Silently cursing all beautiful blonde women, Harry started for the front door.
    But before he even reached the front path, the house exploded.

Four

    D AZED , A LESSANDRA PULLED herself up and out of the tub, uncertain of where she was in the darkness. The shower curtain had fallen down on top of her, and she yanked it free from the pole, wrapping it around herself.
    An emergency light sputtered to life, illuminating the thick smoke that was everywhere. The smoke detectors screamed. It didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t upstairs anymore. She was down in the kitchen. Somehow the bathtub had fallen through the ceiling