Free His Kind of Trouble by Samantha Hunter Page B

show you your room while Ana and I catch up. Dinner is at seven. Everyone will be here, and they will love to meet you, as well,” Doncia told him as she nodded to him and then turned away, still linked at the arm with Ana.
    Chance was grateful for a break. The shadows of early evening were stretching across the house and yard, and he wanted to make a survey of the property before everyone got home. Following Mariana, one of Ana’s younger cousins, to his room, he was impressed with the gorgeous view from a small veranda outside of the spacious bedroom. No doubt all of this was due to Ana’s success.
    She had kept only a living salary from her considerable TV income, investing the rest in the village, financing businesses and, clearly, buying her family a nice home. She was generous, a giving person who clearly cared about others.
    Chance felt selfish by comparison, always preferring to follow his own whims, his own adventures. He cared about his family and friends—and his work, of course. But while Berringer Bodyguards supported several nonprofit organizations through their business and even took on pro bono work, he knew that he’d led a charmed life with only himself, for the most part, to worry about.
    He preferred not to think about others who worried about him, like his parents or his brothers. They knew who he was, he thought a little uncomfortably. He even recalled the look in his mother’s eyes once when he had barely escaped from a burning race car he had crashed while taking a few laps at a local track.
    The memory of how rattled he’d been by Logan’s accident and then the thought of losing Ana that afternoon came rushing back; but that was hardly the same. Logan was a friend, and Ana was his client.
    He switched gears away from the reflective, and uncomfortable, train of thought and focused on the scene before him. The area all around the house was shaded and blocked by trees and plants, which could allow anyone to approach unseen, hidden from various directions. He’d noticed a few dogs out back, but they hadn’t even seemed very concerned with his arrival.
    Quietly leaving his room, he slipped along the cool, exposed breezeway that opened up the middle of the second floor and headed down a spiral staircase to the grounds below.
    It was beautiful, he had to admit, as he assessed access points to the house. He had no idea which bedroom was Ana’s—which he would need to know, of course—for purely professional reasons.
    As enticing as it might be to think about slipping into her room at night, even Chance wouldn’t try to be with her under her mother’s roof—and while she was technically engaged—even though clearly the engagement was a sham. Still, there was something about Marco that bothered him, and he hoped Ana called off the engagement soon.
    Chance spent another half hour or so investigating every part of the property that he could and making a mental note of escape routes, possible dangers and any other number of routine checks.
    Looking up, he paused, seeing Ana on a balcony of her own—that had to be her room. She simply stood there and gazed out over the gardens. What was she thinking?
    He was hidden by the trees, so he took a minute to watch her. His heart beat noticeably faster, his chest tightening, body hardening.
    What was it about this woman that tied him in knots and all he had to do was look at her?
    Blowing out a breath, he turned to head back in and found himself face-to-face with Marco, who stood silently behind him.
    It had been a long, long time since anyone had gotten the drop on Chance, and he wasn’t happy about it. Yet, he tried to relax, even offering a smile.
    “Marco. Nice to see you again. I thought you had gone...somewhere,” Chance said congenially, shoving his hands, previously tensed to fight, into his pockets.
    “I came back. What are you doing out here, watching Ana?”
    “I wasn’t. I was taking a walk, checking the place out.”
    “Why?”
    Chance