ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (128 page)

              Taylor yawned and touched the woman gently on the arm.  “Yes, he is, and  I’m going to bed.” 

              The woman nodded and watched silently as Constantine followed her daughter up the stairs. 

              “Greta, draw me a bath, please.”  Constantine yelled, when she reached the top of the stairs.

              Greta looked at Namir, her small wiry frame straightened as she attempted a severe expression. 

              “Young man, I have no idea where Taylor picked you up at, but…”

              “I’m the new bodyguard.”  Namir said bluntly, his face void of emotion. 

              Greta blinked.  “Oh.  Well, good!  It’s about time.” 

              They stood looking at each other for a few moments.  Namir scanned the small foyer and saw that it led directly into a large living room to the right and a dining room to the left. 

              “How many bedrooms are in this house?”

              “Five bedrooms with four and a half baths.  Will you be staying here then?”

              “That’s what I was told.” 

              “We do have a two room pool house that’s meant for guests.  Would you like to stay there?”  Greta had no preparation and was at a loss as to what to do with the handsome young man. 

              “No, I better stay in the same house with Taylor for now.”

              “Let me show you to one of the guest rooms.”  Greta led him up the staircase that made a sharp turn to the left half way up.  The top floor was fairly straightforward.  The staircase ended towards the left side of the house.  The hallway doubled back over the original staircase, so one standing by the banister could actually see down the first portion of stairs and see the front door.  He counted three doors on the left side, and three on the right past the banister.  There was a room at the very end of the hallway that had double French doors. 

              “Taylor’s room?” 

              Greta’s lips thinned.  “Constantine’s suite.”  The force of her words pushing through her teeth left no question as to what she thought of Constantine.  As if on cue, Constantine’s voice drifted through her doors asking Greta to please come and fix her bath.  Greta grimaced so slightly, Namir wasn’t sure he had seen it.  She led him back towards the banister and opened a door.  She flipped the light switch and Namir found himself in a large bedroom with a four poster bed with a navy blue comforter that matched the drapes and comforter.  There was a bedside table with reading lamp and a chest of drawers.

              “You have your own bathroom.  Linen closet is at the top of the stairs.  I’ll bring you fresh towels after I deal with Constantine.”  

              Namir set his bags on the bed and turned to the much shorter older woman.  “Thank you, but I can get them myself.  Which room is Taylor’s?”

              “She’s next door to you.” 

              Namir waited for Greta to enter Constantine’s room before he knocked on Taylor’s door.  When she didn’t answer, he tried the knob, surprised when it turned. 

              Taylor was curled up on her bed, already fast asleep.  Namir’s eyebrows drew together when he saw that she was clutching a brown teddy bear to her chest.  It looked old, its ears were slightly tattered.  The light by her bed was still burning and he walked silently around the room.  Plush white carpet was under his feet and the curtains were ivory with tiny pink roses.  He checked the windows to make sure they were secure.  The double windows overlooked the back yard and the tree line.  Her room also had a bathroom and was only slightly larger than his room.  Whereas his was masculine in color, hers was all girl and frills.  Her bedspread was pink with ruffles.  The wallpaper was a pink that matched the roses on her curtains.  It looked excessive, and a little messy like she couldn’t decide at the time if she wanted pink and white or just all pink.  Her makeup table was neatly organized and there was a picture of a little girl in the arms of a man wearing a pale colored suit.  He assumed it was Taylor when she was little and her father.  He cut off the light and left the room.  He had the sensation that something wasn’t right about her bedroom.  It wasn’t until he was drifting off to sleep that he realized what it was.  It was a bedroom meant for a little girl. 

              Namir was still sipping coffee the next morning when Constantine glided into the dining room wearing a very thin 1920’s style robe.  It was obvious there was nothing underneath.  She smiled sweetly at him as she seated herself and waited for Greta to pour her coffee. 

              Namir was used to a mug of coffee, not the porcelain little cups that had matching saucers.  His fingers felt clumsy and too big.  He was afraid he was going to break it, and he had no idea what it would cost to replace one.  Constantine sensed his discomfort. 

              “Greta, bring this man a man’s cup for his coffee.” 

              Namir sat silently staring at the empty plate in front of him, wondering if he should fix his own breakfast, or if it was Greta’s job.  He noticed that the table was set for three.  He didn’t have to wonder long.  Greta came back with a regular coffee mug and filled it for him from the silver carafe on the table.  She left momentarily and returned with a platter of steaming scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

              He helped his plate and glanced briefly at Constantine.  “I want to go over some security details with the two of you today.” 

              “Like what?”

              “The perimeter of the property should have a fence, and the driveway a gate.” 

              “I’ll leave all of that to you.  Taylor won’t like it, though.” 

              Taylor shuffled into the room wearing shorts and a large t-shirt.  Her feet were in oversized pink slippers.  She glanced at the table.

              “Ugh…he’s still here?”

              Namir dropped his eyes and concentrated on his plate of food. 

              “Good morning to you too, darling.”  Constantine said dryly. 

              Taylor plopped down in a chair in front of the other empty plate.  She reached for the serving spoon for the eggs.  Constantine slapped it away. 

              “What are you trying to do?  Wreck that million dollar body?”

              Namir lifted his eyes only and watched Taylor’s reaction.

              Taylor’s face turned red, but she stared at her mother defiantly.  “Twenty million dollar body.  Let’s not forget that at twenty I’m already worth more than you!”  She said hotly and left the table. 

              Constantine picked up the neatly folded morning paper and opened it to the Leisure section.  “She’ll thank me someday.” 

              Namir walked the perimeter of the property.  There was a large in ground pool to the left of the house just beyond what looked like a three car garage.  The pool was hidden from the street by several trees and a short row of boxwoods.  The right side of the house just held grass and a mirror image of the trees and boxwoods.  The back held the pool house, directly across from the pool, which Greta had mentioned.  It backed up on the left to the ring of trees that circled the backyard.  The only other structure was a gardener’s shed that faced the pool and left side of the house.  The back of the house had a flat patio with chairs and tables, and a large stainless steel grill.  It looked like it had never been used.   

              Namir came back to the pool where Taylor was laying on a tanning chair and Constantine was sitting at an umbrella covered table.  He was starting to think that she didn’t like the sun. 

              “You definitely need fencing and a gate, and I want to install motion detector flood lights on each corner of the house. 

              Taylor shaded her eyes from the sun and scowled.  “So every time a raccoon runs through the yard there will be light everywhere?”  She lowered her hand and closed her eyes again.  “No way.” 

              It was hard for Namir to keep his eyes on her face.  She laid on her back in a red and black bikini, her tan skin glistening in the sun. 

              “You need it, and I’m going to make the necessary arrangements for it.” 

              “Just who do you think you are?” She said coming off of the chair and grabbing the towel that she had been laying on. 

              “You’re body guard.”  He said simply, and walked away. 

              Taylor announced at dinner that she intended on staying home for the next couple of weeks and that she was going shopping the next day for a dog. 

              Constantine nearly choked on her steak.  “What?  Why?”

              “Why what, mother?  Why am I staying home?  I want to, and Goliath over her is going to do a major renovation on my house, which I should be present for.  Why the dog?  Because I want it, and I’m hoping it will bite him.”  Taylor grabbed her glass of wine and drained it.  She had barely touched the salad on her plate. 

              Constantine pouted like a child.  “I thought we could work on drumming up a movie part for you.”

              “That’s Jason’s job, and he’s taking the week off anyway.”

              Constantine rolled her eyes.  “Please!  He’ll be here before the week is up.  You know you can’t stand his trifling little wife and noisy kids!”

              Taylor shook her head.  Her gray eyes gazed at her mother with contempt.  As usual, Namir just watched the show with mild nausea.  Taylor stood suddenly. 

              “Namir, I want to go for a walk.”

              Namir looked regretfully at his half eaten plate.

              “For goodness sake let the man finish eating, Taylor!  You’re so selfish!” 

              Namir stood, carefully laying the linen napkin next to his plate.  “No, it’s fine.  I can finish later.” 

              “He should be eating in the kitchen with Greta anyway.”  Taylor murmured.  

              The evening air was a perfect benign temperature.  The summer would be winding down soon, and the nights were already starting to be cooler. 

              Namir walked a few paces behind Taylor as she walked through the backyard and into the tree line. 

              “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Namir warned. 

              Taylor stopped, turning her head slightly so he would know that she had heard him.  Without a word she continued into the trees. 

              “Well, shoot.”  Namir whispered.  He followed, cursing how much darker it was within the trees.  Most of them were Pines and there weren’t many branches to contend with as Taylor continued to walk.  She finally came to a small clearing, and Namir could see the backside of several houses roughly a hundred yards away.  One back yard had three children squealing gleefully as they chased lightening bugs with mason jars.  A brown dog barked and jumped happily with them. 

              Taylor sat on the ground and pulled her knees into her chest.  Her plain white sneakers bit into the grass and dirt.  Her loose fitting summer sweater looked too big and made her seem frail and childlike as she sat on the edge of the clearing.  Namir looked at her in the waning light.  Her pale gray eyes watched the children with something akin to longing. 

              Namir sat several feet away from her, glancing at her often.  Her profile wasn’t angry or cynical, she looked like a kid who wished the other kids would ask her to play.  It made Namir sad.  He pulled at a blade of grass and manipulated it in his hand.  When he cupped his hands and brought it to his lips, a low short whistle sounded.  The dog barked a reply. 

              “How did you do that?”  Taylor was staring at him with a cross between skepticism and wonder. 

              “Like this.”  Namir pulled another blade of grass and scooted closer to her.  He showed her how her how to do it, but her first attempt failed.  “Try again.”  He said softly.  After her third attempt a tiny whistle blew from her cupped hands.  She grinned broadly.  For Namir that made the whole defiant tromp through the darkening woods worth it. 

              “We better get back.” 

              Taylor looked longingly to the backyard of children, but didn’t protest.  She stood and brushed off the back of her khaki shorts. 

              “What did you do before you became a body guard?”

              “I was a Marine.” 

              “Did you like it?”

              “No.” 

              An owl hooted nearby.  “Why not?”

              Namir drew in breath.  An image of a screaming woman in a black burqa throwing herself over the body of her dead child scorched a hole through his brain.  He stumbled slightly in the near darkness.  He felt Taylor reach out and grab his arm. 

              “Hey, are you ok?” 

              “I’m fine.  It must have been a root.”  He replied gruffly.

              Taylor looked at him doubtfully.  She couldn’t see his face plainly, but she sensed he was sweating. 

              “So why didn’t you like it?”