Page 57 of The Bodyguard

Savannah sits on one of the white leather seats and removes her sunglasses, placing her handbag on the seat beside her. Briar leans down and says something to her. Savannah nods. Then Briar, Gina, and the team all find seats on the craft as if this is just another day in the office for them, and I suppose it is.

I study them all as I put my bag down.

Nothing stands out, so I sit across the aisle from Savannah, facing in her direction. Her eyes find mine for a moment, but a flight attendant steps between us.

“Would you like a drink before takeoff, Ms. Sinclair?”

“Mineral water and a green tea, please,” she says softly.

“Of course. Lunch will be served an hour after we are in the air.” The flight attendant smiles, then another crew member comes around with bottles of water for the rest of us.

Her eyes find mine again as I chug down half the bottle.

“You can order a coffee if you want.” Her voice is quiet. Everyone around us is getting settled and not paying attention.

“Not my first time on a private jet.” I wink at her. “I know the drill.”

She nods and reaches into her bag to pull out a small cardigan.

I narrow my eyes.

Something isn’t right.

She’s not her bouncy self this morning.

Fuck this.

I stand and move over the aisle to sit directly across from her.

“What’s wrong?” The aircraft begins to move, and her eyes shoot outside. I lean forward. “Are you a nervous flier?”

Savannah nods.

That I can do something about. I move once more to sit beside her, her eyes following mine. I smile down at her and place my hand on the armrest next to hers.

“Just don’t damage any nerves.” My lips quirk.

“I’m fin—”

The craft picks up speed on the runway and the tail begins to wobble. Her hand grabs mine and Jesus fucking Christ, no one should ever call women weak. Those nails of hers almost draw blood.

It’s almost ten minutes after we’re in the air when the craft has leveled out that she relaxes.

“I suppose you think I’m stupid. You’ve probably jumped out of airplanes.”

“A few times.” I smirk. “I don’t recommend it in that outfit, though.”

She chuckles but her eyes find mine and I see concern in them, which is sweet as hell. “Did you ever get scared?”

Her question floors me.

I’m thirty-three. No one has ever asked me that. Not my mom, certainly not my dad, and not even Suzie.

“Ah...” I glance out the window as my entire military career flashes before my eyes.

The training in the army, rising in the ranks, watching my first person die. Shooting a human for the first time.

Killing for the first time.

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