Bedded by Her Bodyguard(3)

They each took one of her arms and escorted her out of line, toward a series of rows of doors with very tiny windows. Isaac pitched a fit, for which she thanked him.

Except she had no idea what he said to them, since he spoke entirely in Russian. And she hadn’t had a chance to proclaim her innocence.

Before the guards settled her into a closet-sized room, she glanced back at Isaac. Worry in his eyes, he mouthed, “You’ll be okay.”

Doubt tightened her chest.

Forcing a calm she didn’t feel, she sat at the metal table on a folding chair. Cold and minimalist, the room seemed to match the demeanor of the guard who took a seat opposite her.

A single fluorescent bulb hung from the ceiling, casting mean shadows on the guard’s face. His pale eyes assessed her, flat and emotionless.

He held out his hand. “Your passport.”

Fingers trembling, she withdrew it from her purse and handed it to him. He peeled it open then used a hand-held tablet to enter her information.

Frown lines bracketed his mouth. He glanced at the tablet, then at her. “This is not you?”

Holding the device up for her to view, he pointed at the screen. Mindy saw a near-replica mug shot of herself. Only it was Helen, eyes full of fire and conviction. “That’s not me,” she said. “She’s my mother. I have nothing to do with her.” Her statement held with more honesty than she cared to admit.

The guard grunted. A crackling sound caught her attention. The guard pressed a fingertip to his earpiece and brusquely excused himself from the room. Leaving her alone, shivering, and miserable in her confined cell.

Unable to sit still, she approached the small window. At five-foot-two in heels, she didn’t have a hope of glimpsing anything beyond. She strained to hear Isaac’s voice, but they must’ve ordered him away from the containment area.

A lonely, hollow sensation crept over her. But she knew Isaac wouldn’t abandon her in a strange, foreign country where she couldn’t speak the language. While she respected many things about him, one trait stood out in her mind. He always took responsibility for his people. She’d seen that aspect of him in action a dozen times. If his sales team didn’t meet their quota—a rare occurrence—he put the balance on himself. If something wasn’t right, he went out of his way to fix it. If someone needed him, he dropped everything to accommodate. He managed to keep the big picture in mind as an overall goal, yet he appreciated each person’s individual needs in any given scenario.

This unexpected captivity, coming up on an hour, gave her way too much time to think. Never a good thing for someone with the astrological sign of Pisces. People born in March over-thought everything, desperate to find a happy medium between everyone’s emotions. Sensing others’ emotions was what she did best. Except when it came to Isaac. He proved a sexy enigma she couldn’t solve. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was a water sign like her—maybe a Cancer or a Scorpio. All water signs hid their depths.

Wracking her brain, she tried to think back on her horoscope for that morning, the one she paid too much for in exchange for a personal astrologer who sent her daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly forecasts. Shockingly, even Helen believed in astrology, employing her own astrologer out of L.A., even though Helen lived in New York City. Helen had once told Mindy that President Ronald Reagan had consulted an astrologer when it came to the most pressing matters of his presidency.

Regardless, Mindy believed in the stars and the maps they created across the sky, as well as the traits they imbued to each individual. Yes, she could spend hours imagining how her sign might be compatible with Isaac’s, but while that might put her mind at ease for a while, she was growing more restless by the second. Being caged was not a situation that settled well in her psyche.

After another ten minutes of pacing, she finally heard the lock on the door twist. Her head snapped up. The light-eyed guard entered again, while the other one stood outside to prevent disruption. Isaac’s voice, though muted, eased the butterflies in her stomach. She really didn’t want to throw up in front of this guy.

Drawing from the endless reserve of anger her mother held for the opposite sex, Mindy ignored the flutter in her stomach. “I’ve answered your questions. I’m not Helen Sanders. You need to release me. Now. Or my company’s lawyer will show up on the next plane and make you a fool for holding me here for no reason.”

She’d completely fabricated that, but if her mother had taught her anything, Helen had demanded respect and wouldn’t accept anything less. At least after all this time, Mindy could impersonate her mother’s impressive sneer. Even if she was faking it. Miraculously, the guard backed off and swung the metal door open wide.