Free His Reluctant Bodyguard by Loucinda McGary

the opposite side. Their captain, a man who looked to be in his mid forties climbed up to the bridge and started the engine, while the mate, who looked less than half the captain's age and was likely his son, untied them from the dock.
    With a sputtering cough, the vessel pulled away from the dock and chugged toward the entrance of the harbor. Behind them, Rip caught sight of the gleaming black smoke stacks of Valiant and a wave of longing and loneliness broke over him. The latter caught him completely off-guard since he'd never considered himself lonely before. But only three days with Avery made him realize how much his life in LA had been lacking. The idea of not returning to Southern California didn't bother him much at all.
    "Tough break about the beautiful Miss Knox," Williams said, as if reading his thoughts. "But you can't blame her. A woman like her can take her pick of almost any guy, and I'm sure she sees plenty of wealthy ones in the cruise business."
    Resentment made Rip's fingers tingle with the urge to form a fist. "Avery's no gold-digger. She's just scared because of the...   circumstances. When I'm done on Benezet , I'll change her mind."
    The other man rolled his eyes in that mocking way Rip found so annoying. "Good luck with that, Lover Boy. And I hope this thing turns out to be the cake-walk you seem to believe it is. In the meantime, I'm going to get some shut eye before we get there."
    Rising to his feet, Williams took his bag and disappeared into the small cabin. Rip was glad to see the surly agent go. He knew it would be over two hours before they reached Benezet and the less time he had to spend with Dante Williams, the better he would like it.
    Rip settled back into the corner and enjoyed the feel of the wind on his face as the boat speeded up. Back at the dock, the captain had spoken English to them, but he and the mate called back and forth to each other in what Rip recognized as a French Creole dialect unique to Martinique, but very similar to what was spoken on Benezet . Much to his surprise, he actually understood a word here and there.
      They passed a dozen or more small fishing boats after they left the harbor, but after about half an hour, the boats became few and far between. The Sirene picked up more speed as they headed into open water, and Rip removed his baseball cap to keep it from blowing off. The young mate disappeared into the cabin and came back with a thermos and plastic cups. Rip gladly accepted the hot coffee the boy offered with halting English.
    A few minutes later, the teen climbed up to the bridge and the captain came down and helped himself to a cup, offering Rip a refill.
    After openly studying Rip for several long moments as he sipped his coffee, the captain finally spoke. "My cousin, his wife came from Benezet . You from there?"
    Rip nodded. "I was born there, but left when I was still a child."
    The man drank slowly, his shrewd dark eyes assessing Rip from top-to-toes. "The old general, Pollendene , you look like him."
    "So I've been told." Glad he still wore his sunglasses, Rip tried not to let his surprise show.
    "Old Pollendene , he was a hard man, but fair. The new one, he is cruel. Bad things going on since he took over. Lots o’ folks move to Martinique 'til Benezet gets better." The captain drained his cup, and once more silently offered to fill Rip's.
    When Rip shook his head, the man gave a toothy grin and took the thermos back inside the cabin. The coffee in Rip's gut churned. He tried to remember everything he could about his last encounter with his cousin JB, but the memory was hazy. Even though it had only been fifteen months ago, the whole shock of the suddenness of his father's death had left him almost in a stupor. The best thing to come out of the sad event was that Luc DuBois , who had flown to LA to personally deliver the news, had stayed on and become Rip's good friend and assistant.
    At JB's suggestion, Rip had flown in for the private family