Bodyguard to the Billionaire Page 2

  I didn't know where I was going. Everywhere I turned there were people, dancing and drinking and reveling. I couldn't even escape to the balcony. It was too crowded. Finally, I didn't know what else to do, so I picked a set of columns off to the left on the outer edge of the dance floor near the other bar, and I stepped between them.

  With my back to the wall, if I pressed in just so, no one would see me, and I could… breathe. Hands shaking, I turned my phone back on. I had a meditation app on there. Tamsin swore by it every time she was trying not to kill someone.

  I had fucking run. Like a coward.

  I had run from my past, from the shame. I had run from it all. Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with me?

  All around me, people laughed and danced and enjoyed the wedding reception. Ariel ran by, chased by Prince Tristan.

  My boss, flaming red hair, bright smile, twinkling green eyes, was in love. Of course, she was in love. After all these years, she and her first love had gotten it together. And from the looks of it, they were about to go and have their own little quickie. She would never run and hide between columns.

  She was a badass.

  I, on the other hand, was decidedly not a badass.

  My phone vibrated in my hand, and I glanced down at it.

  Tamsin: Where are you?

  I wasn't sure if I should answer that, but I did.

  Me: Behind the pillar.

  It took her a moment, but then she replied.

  Tamsin: ?

  I leaned out from behind the pillar, met her gaze at the bar, and waved. When she saw me, she poked Neela in the ribs, and the two of them came marching over.

  Oh yeah, that was smart, draw attention to why you're hiding.

  When they found me, both of them stood, arms crossed, staring at me. But it was Tamsin who spoke first. "What in the world?"

  "Okay, I know this looks crazy, but I saw him.”

  "Who?"

  "Garrett."

  Neela frowned, not quite getting it, but Tamsin understood immediately.

  "Where?"

  "We were at the bar and I just— I could feel someone watching me. I saw him and I know he saw me, and I turned and ran like a moron. Now he thinks I care about him, which I don't. Just so you know."

  "Of course, you don't. You don't care about turds."

  "Exactly. He is a turd."

  She nodded.

  Neela laughed. "Someone catch me up."

  "Her ex," Tamsin blurted. "She saw him, so she figured hiding between these two pillars was a good idea."

  "Hey!" I slapped her arm. "I had few options, okay?"

  Tamsin shook her head. "But why are you hiding? You didn't do anything wrong."

  "I know. I just... I don't know. I had no other choice. I saw him, and I freaked out, okay?"

  Neela's gaze volleyed between Tamsin and myself and back again. "Zia, I have never seen you like this. Do you want us to get you out of here?"

  I shook my head. "No, before I saw him, I was having fun. And come on, we were invited to the princess's wedding. You don't get invited to a cool-kid party and then take off because you saw your ex, who is a commander in the Royal fucking Guard."

  Neela shook her head. "I understand how you feel. I'm so sorry. I know what it's like to have a turd of a boyfriend."

  Oh yeah, before Neela and Jax, there had been Neela and some idiot. He'd taken her whole company, so she did understand. "How did you get over it?"

  "Well, you find someone bigger and better to give you many, many orgasms."

  My mouth hung open. And then I laughed.

  I laughed at myself, at my situation, and I laughed at Neela because she was right. Why was I hiding? I hadn't done anything wrong. I had been awesome. He had chosen to cheat on me. He had chosen to leave.

  I was perfect.

  As I headed back to the bar with my friends, I glanced around. I still felt like I was being watched, but I had no idea where it was coming from.

  Whoever it was, if the intensity was that strong with their eyes, I could only imagine what it would be like if they touched me.

  Three

  Theo…

  I had lost Kyle in the crowd somewhere. Between glasses of champagne and dancing with bridesmaids, he was having far more fun at this thing than I was. It was okay though. Because I had something else to occupy my brain. The brunette. Who would send her hiding? Was she okay? The fact that I wanted to go over there and fix things for her was ridiculous.

  First of all, she likely didn't need anyone to fix anything for her. Second of all, that fact didn't stop the nearly gravitational pull attempting to yank me into that position. I'd seen her talking to the queen earlier at the wedding. And then the princess. She knew them. Personally.

  And I had strict instructions. Stay away from the royal family. If nothing else, they, at the very least, could identify me. Derrick was, after all, Sebastian's cousin. While not a prince, he was an earl. So, that way, danger lay.

  Danger or not though, that didn't stop my brain from sorting, running through the myriad of conversations and ice breakers I could use to talk to her. It didn't stop my body from tensing at the sight of her, or the blood from rushing and roaring in my head, making it impossible to form two fucking thoughts. It didn't stop my increased heart rate. It didn't stop that hitch in my breath like she'd fucking stolen it like a thief in the night.

  Knowing what I wanted to do and what I couldn't do didn't stop me from wanting it.

  Wanted or not, there were more important things to consider.

  What was it about her? Yeah, she was beautiful. Glossy dark hair, the tanned complexion to her skin, wide, dark eyes that were cat-like. Her makeup was minimal, save her bright red lipstick. She wore her hair lose around her shoulders, bangs side-swept. I wanted to dig my hands into it. Feel it between my fingertips. Smell it. Tug it. Use it like a rope.

  Easy does it.

  I turned away and forced myself to inhale deeply.

  You have a job to do. You have a job to do. You have a goddamn job to do. Do your job. Stay away.

  I needed to find Kyle and get out of there. We had sufficiently mingled. Anyone who needed to pay attention would have seen that we were there. It was time to go before I did something stupid. Something I couldn't take back. Something that would have me either howling at the moon or running back to New York empty-handed with my tail between my legs and nothing to show for it.

  Get it together.

  I'd come all this way for something. Now I had to show that it was worth it. I’d spent the last couple of months learning everything there was to know about a man with my face.

  That shit still weirded me out. Arlington had walked into my office without so much as by your leave and told me he had a job proposition for me.

  Like an idiot, I thought he wanted to be an angel investor. But that's not what he wanted from me. He'd wanted thirty days. Thirty days for me to be him. There was nothing more jarring than seeing the spitting image of yourself, what you could have been before you fucked your life up, and not necessarily liking it.

  If my life had gone exactly right, I would have been him. Young, rich, with more money that I knew what to do with. But I wasn’t him. I had made an entirely different choice in my life. Oh yeah, and he was born rich. Me, not so much. He'd been given access to all the best things and opportunities. I only had my mother. But she was enough.

  Everything I'd done, hopefully, made her proud. But this, what the hell would she think about this?

  When I couldn't find Kyle in the crowd, I pulled my phone out and typed a message.

  Theo Coleman: Time to go, where are you?

  I waited, but there were no little dots.

  Where the hell had he gone? Had he vanished with that bridesmaid? The blonde one. Pixie haircut. What was her name? I'd been introduced. It started with a J or something. Jessica? It was unusual. I couldn't remember. I'd been told the name in passing. The thing about my photographic memory was that I only rememb
ered shit I saw written down. A passing name was too difficult. My brain always disregarded that kind of stuff. So anything I wanted to remember, I wrote down. It made my life a lot easier.

  There was a rustle behind me, and before I could turn, there was something pressed into my back.

  "Easy does it, Theo. We wouldn't want to make a scene."

  I froze.

  Theo.

  No one here knew me as Theo. I swallowed. "I'm sorry. I think you have the wrong person."

  "No, I have the right person. What you're going to do for me, Theo, is you're going to finish your champagne and smile at no one in particular. And then you're going to march nice and easy right to the outer doors. Then you and I are going on a little trip."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you. I know better than to get in a car."

  "Okay, well, that's up to you. But if you choose not to get in that car, something disastrous is going to happen to dear, sweet old Mom. That's right. We have people watching her in New Jersey. That yellow Craftsman house is cute. Is that where you grew up?"

  I tensed. Fuck. They had someone watching her. "What do you want?"

  "I told you what I want. Start moving."

  "You don't have to do this." Think, man, think.

  He snickered. "Don’t I though? Start moving."

  I did as I was told. I drained the glass, depositing it with a passing member of the waitstaff. I frantically searched the crowd for Kyle, and then I remembered the phone. There was an app, an SOS beacon to whoever was in your emergency contacts. He was mine, so I hoped to Christ he was paying attention and would eventually see it.

  Asshole, find me. Find me quick, because sooner or later this motherfucker right here is going to make me toss my phone. This was Kidnapping 101. GPS could ruin everything.

  "Move." He growled through his teeth when I didn't move quickly enough.

  "I'm moving. Relax. No need to leave a mess. Not in this pretty ballroom."

  "Shame for you, you're not going to get to enjoy it."

  "Yeah, why don't you tell me what all this is about?"

  "Shut up, Theo."

  "All right, if you already knew I'm Theo, then you know Arlington would pay dearly if this is what that's about. He’ll pay whatever ransom and demands you want."

  I had no idea if Derrick would pay to get me back. I had no idea what the final end-game plan was. He'd left me instructions and told me to use the emergency contact when I absolutely needed it. This felt like one of those times.

  "I'm not sure what this is about, but I'm not getting in that car." I turned around to face him. "So either you're going to have to shoot me here or walk away. Because right now, it's not happening."

  And then there was movement behind him. Icicles formed in my veins as I froze. It was her, the brunette. She was coming outside.

  No. No. No. No.

  This asshole would not hesitate to shoot her. No. I willed her to go back. "Fine, let's get in the car."

  But the brunette called out. “Sweetheart, there you are. Are you being naughty and sneaking a cigarette?”

  I shook my head at her, silently signaling for her to back off. But the guy with the gun had already paused and turned around. “Oh, is this a friend of yours?”

  I turned him around to face me. "Nope, focus on me, asshole. She has nothing to do with this." And then I realized my mistake. Showing that I cared about this anonymous woman in any way, had actually put her in danger.

  Zia…

  Nothing like sighting an ex to put the end to revelry. But I wasn’t going to leave. I’d already run and hidden once. I’d dressed up and the whole thing. I wasn’t packing it in. There was absolutely nothing appealing about going back to my room at Royal Elite… alone.

  If I did that, there would be vodka. And ice-cream. And Ariel would know I couldn’t keep my shit together. No way was I letting that shit happen. Besides, I wasn’t weak.

  I could handle my shit. I was the one who handled everything. I was the one people called to handle their shit. I was not vodka-and-ice-cream weak.

  So I threw myself into dancing, but I cooled it on the champagne. I wasn’t going to get sloppy drunk and say something stupid.

  It seemed though, that Roone's cousin Ben had not made the same resolution. He was making an ass of himself asking me to dance. He wasn't being disrespectful, he just thought he was a comedian. And while his British accent was indisputably charming. So far, I couldn’t find the humor in his attempts.

  "Come on, darling. I can tell that under that buttoned-up exterior, you know how to do a mean running man."

  I wrinkled my nose. "Do you even know what the running man is? What makes you think I can do that in heels?"

  His gaze slid over my body. I saw the interest. Sorry playboy. Players need not apply. I could almost count the swarms of women he'd been with as clearly as if their names had been etched on his forehead.

  It emanated off of his aura in flashing neon letters. I am a player. Beware all who tarry on this cock.

  I had zero problem with handsome, and Ben Covington had the handsome gene in droves. He was Roone’s cousin after all.

  I had no problem with rich, and from what I understood, he was a billionaire. I might be down with someone who I didn’t have to look after financially.

  I just had a problem with players. Guys who were ruled by their dicks. And I had no desire to be some playboy's plaything.

  "Don't you have someone else to go and bother?"

  He leaned against the bar. "Well, the way I figure it, you should always aim for the most beautiful woman in the room. You never know when she'll say yes."

  Lord, he was slick. "Okay, what if I tell you it's a resounding no?"

  His brows furrowed as if he'd never heard the word before in his lifetime. "A no?"

  I couldn't help but grin at that. "Yeah. Nope. No thank you."

  He drained the rest of his scotch, something worth more than my salary for the week, no doubt. His brows were still drawn down as if completely confused that a woman wouldn't want him.

  "What? Is it because I'm not James Bond? I know you work at Royal Elite. You prefer rough and tumble? Someone who knows his way around a gun? Would it change your mind if I told you I happen to be good at hand to hand combat?" He winked.

  I couldn't help it. That was almost kind of witty, and I snorted a laugh. "No, it wouldn't change anything."

  He sighed. "Fine. Might I ask why? Because earlier, I thought we had a moment."

  "You mean when I met your gaze and smiled?"

  He nodded as if that said everything. "It’s a hell of a smile."

  I rolled my eyes. "Just because I smile at you doesn't mean I want to shag you. I'm allergic to playboys."

  His mouth formed an O as if he was shocked, and he crushed a hand to his heart. "Oh, you wound me."

  "As if. You know you're a playboy. How many women have you shagged exactly?" I turned to face him and leaned my elbow on the bar.

  He could barely contain his smirk. "A gentleman never tells."

  I couldn’t hold the giggle. "You sir, are far from a gentleman."

  "The lady sees the truth."

  Again, he made me laugh. "I’ll let you in on a secret. I'm far from a lady."

  And I had to give him credit, because his gaze did not falter from mine.

  "Then I think maybe you don't see enough."

  Something about his statement heated my skin and made it flush. It was the first hint of something honest out of his mouth.

  Out of my periphery, I watched as Jessa and Roone twirled around the dance floor again. But it wasn’t them I was aware of. I finally knew who had been watching me. A man at the far end of the ballroom. His gaze didn’t waver from mine but instead held me captive, refusing to let go until I’d spilled all my secrets.

  Hair the color of midnight, piercing smoke-gray eyes. He leaned against the wall by the door to the balcony.

  He was focused. Intent. Unwavering. And Jesus Christ, the jolt of
awareness was hot, piercing, and I couldn't shake it. His look was like a blast from a furnace.

  I wasn't trying to get distracted. Screw distraction.

  No, seriously. Screw distraction. It’s been a year since you got laid.

  I tried to avert my gaze, but it took longer than it should have. When I finally managed to tear my eyes away, I turned my attention back to Ben and his brows were raised.

  "So, I guess I'm out of luck. You found someone else more interesting."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "The look on your face. You certainly didn't look at me like that." He shrugged. "And to the winner go the spoils."

  I retorted back immediately, "Who said I'm a spoil?"

  His grin was slow, sexy, confident. The player was back. "Who said you were the spoil?"

  If I'd been the kind of girl who hadn't had her heart broken by someone playful and fun, someone who exuded that same kind of confidence, I could've fallen for someone like him. But I had already been burned by a playboy, so Ben Covington wasn't on the table.

  As I walked through the ballroom, I headed to the balcony to find Tamsin and shook off thoughts of the heated gaze. When Tamsin saw me, she smiled. "Ah, I see Ben finally gave up."

  I rolled my eyes. "If only he’d been half serious. That is probably one hard man to shake when he wants something."

  She laughed. "Count me in as one woman who's willing to be first in line. I bet they don’t call him Big Ben for nothing."

  I snorted a laugh. "Oh, he is all yours. I’ll give him one thing. He sure is pretty."

  "I mean, he and his friends, Bridge and East, walking in together was like an orgasm waiting to—"

  I lost my train of thought as Tall-dark-and-melt-your-panties walked by the open door. This time, he was with a man who spoke intently to him as they walked briskly past. I couldn’t lie… the view from the back was just as good as the front.