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“Was waiting for the boss to fill you in,” he says back, and I clench my jaw to avoid snapping at him. Sure, Ben is built as big as I am—though he’s an inch shorter at six foot one—but no amount of brawn can make up for what he clearly lacks in brain.
Instead of telling him that, I just walk past him and knock on the door to Evangeline’s room. In seconds, it opens, and I’m struck as dumb at the sight of her as I am every time. No matter how many times I’ve seen her, she never fails to take my breath away.
Her blond waves are tied up in some sort of messy bun thing that I ache to tangle in my fist, and she’s wearing a lounge set that probably costs more than most people’s salaries, made of some sort of velvety material that clings to her curves like it was made for her. It probably was.
For a second, I forget the urgency of the situation, but my training kicks back in quickly.
“Grab a bag. We’ve got to go,” I tell her, softening my voice to try not to scare her.
Her green eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. “What, why?” she asks, her voice shaky.
Shit, seeing her scared feels like a dagger in my stomach. “There’s been a threat made against you.” I refuse to lie to her. She’s twenty-two, not a kid, and she deserves to know what’s happening. “Don’t be scared, princess. I’ll keep you safe. Just pack a bag with whatever essentials you need as fast as you can, okay?”
The nickname slips out of my mouth before I can stop it, and the gravel in my voice reveals just how much personal interest I have in protecting her. But I don’t care if it’s not professional, not when it helps soften some of the fear in her beautiful face.
“Oh, okay,” she whispers back, nodding once. I watch as she gathers her resolve, straightening her spine and shrugging off her fear. “I’ll be quick.”
I give her privacy to pack, turning my back and standing in the doorway, and find Ben’s eyes narrowed on me. I meet his stare with a steely gaze, a silent challenge.
“Go get the car ready,” I instruct him, even though technically we’re at the same level and I can’t give him orders. “Pull it around to the front and be ready to go in two minutes.”
I see the urge to argue flash in Ben’s dark gaze, but he obviously knows better because he just turns on his heel and strides downstairs to get a car from the collection Grant has in the garage.
Exactly two minutes later, Evangeline taps on my shoulder. I turn immediately, finding her ready to go with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. I take the bag from her, barely resisting the urge to pick her up too.
“Straight to the front, Ben’s got the car waiting,” I instruct her, satisfaction swirling in me when she immediately obeys, rushing down the stairs to the main foyer.
I follow on her heels, finding Grant waiting for us at the front door. I give Evangeline just enough time to hug him and say goodbye before I usher her out of the house and into the car.
I open the door for her, and she slides inside, and then I circle the car to take the backseat beside her. Ben’s already in the driver’s seat with the engine running, and I much fucking rather sit back here with her than upfront with him. Not only because it’s safer to be close to her in case something happens on the way, but also because I need to be close to her.
“Everything will be okay,” I murmur to Evangeline as Ben pulls away from the manor and speeds down the insanely long drive, coordinates of the cabin already plugged into the GPS. “I’ll take care of you, princess.”
I mean what I say. I won’t let a single fucking thing hurt this woman, won’t let a single person touch a hair on her head.
Evangeline Graves is mine.
And I’ll protect her no matter what it takes.
2
EVANGELINE
I’m nowhere near Enzo’s levels of calm, but I haven’t burst into tears or had a full-on panic attack yet, so I’m pretty damn proud of myself anyway.
It’s not every day you get told there’s someone out to literally kidnap and kill you. And, sure, having the Graves name means we’ve dealt with security threats before, but nothing so bad I had to be evacuated from my own home like the place was on fire. The curl of gnawing anxiety in my gut is impossible to ignore.
And yet…I can’t deny that the reason I’m not an actual sobbing mess cowering in the footwell of this car is because of the man beside me. Enzo Mazzetti. Bodyguard, tattooed wall of muscle, and star of all my fantasies.
I’m no stranger to having a bodyguard follow me around, not that I normally get to go farther than the local mall without an entire damn SWAT team by my side. I know it’s probably wrong, but I can’t help the small part of me that’s…well…excited by the idea of an adventure, especially one with Enzo by my side. I’m not excited about the threats, obviously, but I’ve seen Enzo training in the gym.
Well, okay, I may have purposefully gone for a stroll on the treadmill when I knew he’d be making use of the sparring mats for training. Shirtless, sweaty, and grappling and throwing punches with an ease that made it look more like dancing than wrestling, there’s no way in hell anything’s getting past Enzo to me.
I trust him implicitly.
The other guard who’s driving the car, Ben? Now that’s another story. That guy gives me the ick. I’ve caught him staring at me a few times, but it’s a far cry from the way I’ve caught Enzo looking at me. No, Enzo sneaks glances with fire in his eyes and hunger in the tight, sharp cut of his jaw. Ben looks at me like a slab of meat or a lamb he wants to slaughter. I shudder at the thought.
I zone out for most of the drive, my mind spinning with worry for my Dad and for myself, the anticipation of going somewhere new, and wildly unrealistic fantasies about what it means to be somewhere secluded and unpopulated with Enzo close by.
