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“Somefuckingwhat?” Kaylie’s voice jerked my attention back to her.
“She speaks,” I muttered. “Sure you’reallowedto use such language?” I mocked, having her father’srulesin mind.
“Don’t let her out of your sight.
No one touches her. That includes you.
One finger on her and you’re dead, do you hear me?”
Her scoff made me smirk.
“I’m not a kid,” she snapped.
“Tell your father that.”
She spoke after a long, pressing silence. “What did he tell you? Why do you hate me so much?”
“Enough to form an opinion.” It was a half-truth. I knew of her kind. I got enough information from herdaddyto know exactly what I was dealing with. A rich brat who never had to do anything in her life. It didn’t matter she was the prettiest little thing I’d seen in a long time. I couldn’t think of her in that way, even if her personality would have matched her stunning looks. She was too young for me. A fucking kid. Barely over twenty. Forcing my eyes back on the road, I tried to get the image of her raven black hair and porcelain skin out of my head.
“Are you always so rude?” she asked, reminding me of why she was a bad idea to even fantasize about.
Rude? I never thought of myself that way. I just didn’t like the bullshit. The fake politeness and the small talk. If you had nothing good to say, then don’t fucking speak at all.
“You’re not very friendly for being a bodyguard,” she muttered in my silence. “I’d believe a certain level of people skills is included in the training.”
Shooting her an annoyed look, I held my tongue.
“Who did you talk to on the phone?”
“None of your fucking business.”
She huffed, glaring at me with those ocean-blue eyes narrowed to slits, and a pout on pink lips.
I jerked my gaze off her, cursing my fucking mind for going places it wasn’t allowed. “The one client I can actually stand.”
Judging by the sour look on her face, she took the hint.
“He’s a celebrity?”
“He’s Johnny Grey.”
Her not-so-subtle gasp made me roll my eyes and wish I could take it back. The name spoke for itself, and his world-spread fame made me unwillingly famous, too. And by the looks of recognition on Kaylie’s face, she knew it.
“You’re Johnny Grey’s bodyguard,” she said matter-of-factly. Then her confidence wavered, and she asked in a small voice, “Then what are you doing with me?”
“I have no fucking clue.”
Hours crept by in slow motion, and the further away from home, the lower my mood sunk. The uneasy feeling in my gut that refused to go away intensified as the miles took me closer to my destination. I trusted my father with my life. He’d never do anything to put me in danger. That’s why I was out here in the first place, stuck in a car with a stranger, and not at home in the comfort of my bed. But the little feeling inside whispering to me that something wasn’t right never stopped bothering me. A low humming fear mixed with bitterness made my mood drop faster than my energy.
Slumping against the side door, I glanced through sleepy eyes at the man beside me. He was dressed like any of the guards working for my father. Fancy black suits and shiny shoes. But he had his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone, revealing more skin than what was appropriate for his position. And for my imagination.
Was I supposed to trust him? Despite his cold attitude and clear dislike of me. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t want to be here anymore than he did, but he was here willingly. I was not. That alone gave him no right to act like an ass.
Sure, I was not some famous movie star like he was used to, but he was stuck with me… The realization dawned on me like slowly descending fog, suffocating me with the bitter truth.I was stuck with him. For how long? I didn’t know much about geography since I barely left the estate. But driving cross-country was bound to take longer than I was willing to face.
I was truly stuck with this man. And I had nowhere else to go.At least he’s good-looking, I comforted myself with. It could have been worse, right? He could have been some old fat jerk who smelled like cigars and too much alcohol. Looking at Marc through thick strands of dark hair falling in my face as I leaned against the window, that tingle in my belly was back.
He was not only good-looking, he was gorgeous. Hair almost as dark as mine, and a body most people would die for. The shirt stretched over thick biceps and a just as muscular back and chest. His rolled-up sleeves exposed strong underarms tanned from the California sun. Through the haze of tiredness, I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel like to be held by those strong arms. How tight his much larger body would be against my petite form.
