Page 12 of Bound to the Bodyguard

With pleasantries exchanged, Alex excused himself, leaving me under the watchful eye of my new protector. Jerome’s gaze swept across the gala like a radar.

“Security seems tight, but there are gaps,” Jerome muttered. “I’ll need to have a word with the event staff. Blind spots can be costly.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Precaution is the mother of safety, Ms. Fields,” Jerome replied without looking at me, his eyes fixating on a couple arguing quietly in a corner—potential trouble or just a lovers’ quarrel? “I believe in being thorough.”

“Of course.”

“Stay close to me tonight,” Jerome instructed, finally turning to meet my gaze. “And if you notice anything—or anyone—out of place, tell me immediately.”

“Understood.”

Jerome Dawson was more than a bodyguard; he was a silent promise that the night would pass without incident. As uptight as I’d been since getting those calls yesterday, his presence calmed my uneasiness a bit. Maybe I could enjoy tonight.

The night continued, Jerome was no more than three steps behind me at every turn. I understood the reason for him being here, but it was starting to become a nuisance. At one point, I thought he might ask to go inside the restroom with me, which was my only time of peace.

“Ma’am, a courier just dropped this off.”

My fingers trembled slightly as I unfolded the paper, eyes scanning the scrawled message. The elegant facade of the gala seemed to fade away, leaving behind a chilling echo that resonated with the words of the letter. I stiffened, mind racing with unease.

“Trouble?” Jerome’s deep voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, pulling my attention to his towering frame.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I snapped, quickly folding the letter and tucking it into my clutch. I raised my chin defiantly, meeting Jerome’s probing gaze. “I’m sure you have more important things to do than worry about my mail.”

“Ms. Fields, if there’s a threat involved, it’s my responsibility to know.”

“Is that why you’re here? To pry into every aspect of my life?” My voice was sharp, the underlying note of vulnerability masked by my frustration.

“Only those aspects that pose a risk to you.” Jerome’s stance was unyielding, yet there was no aggression in his posture—only an unwavering sense of duty.

“Fine.” I dug into my clutch and passed him the letter. As he scanned the contents, I crossed my arms, watching how his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Do you always manage to stay this... impassive?”

“Emotions can cloud judgment. In my line of work, that can be fatal,” he stated, handing back the letter.

“Sounds lonely.”

“Perhaps. But loneliness is preferable to the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“Failure to protect those in my care,” Jerome said, locking eyes with me.

“Let’s hope your care is worth the sacrifice.”

“Let’s hope it never comes to that,” he replied, a ghost of a smile touching his lips before it disappeared as quickly as it came.

He’s just doing his job. Don’t make it into something it’s not.

But as the evening progressed, I realized it wasn’t just his job. It was his presence—solid and reliable—that gradually chipped away at my walls. I watched him from a distance, noting how his gaze never ceased moving, how he positioned himself where he had a clear view of every possible threat.

“Would you like to step outside for some fresh air?” Jerome suggested, materializing beside me once more. “It might help ease your mind.”

“Is that part of the protection plan?”

“Consider it a tactical advantage. We’re less exposed.”

“Lead the way, then.”

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