Page 23 of Vengeful Guard

It’s different.

I’ve been isolated a lot of my life, especially from guys my own age, and I guess it’s made me a bit self-conscious.

Kael steps inside behind me. “Can I take the downstairs bedroom? By the door? It’ll help me keep a look out.”

“I don’t care what you do,” I say firmly. “As long as you don’t cramp my style, you can sleep on the couch or on the porch for all I care.”

Kael snorts. “Think I’ll take the bedroom if it’s all the same.”

I shrug. “Just don’t be waking me up at all hours of the night with your girls or whatever.”

“I don’t have girls when I’m on a job.” He sounds slightly offended.

Oh.

I’d been under the impression that looking the way he does, Kael probably got around a lot. He certainly has a bit of a reputation among the girls I know.

Not that any of them have actually been with him. I’ve just heard stories. Stories like he prefers girls who work without their clothes on.

“I sleep in.” Lies. If I have any say, I don’t sleep at all, but if it keeps him out of my hair, I’ll say anything. “Don’t wake me up early.”

Kael spreads his hands. “Fair enough, little princess.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

He just smirks at me. Curse that little dimple on the right side of his face when he half-smiles. It just makes him more attractive.

“Fair enough, your highness.”

I scoff and climb the stairs to my room.

I text Sophie immediately.

Guess who my new bodyguard is?

Not ten seconds later, I have an answer on my phone. Who?

Me: Kael fucking Sullivan.

It takes her a moment to reply, but she’s probably at work. She works at a local hotel that moonlights as a casino. She’s a blackjack dealer for their more nefarious guests.

At least he’s hot, she finally responds, and I can’t help but laugh.

Sophie’s right about that. But that doesn’t mean I’m even slightly interested.

Even though he does smell really good.

7

KAEL

I wake up at five in the morning, like I always do, and leave Paige’s brownstone, using the key that Declan gave me to lock the door behind me.

I’m wearing just a pair of basketball shorts and my jogging shoes, going for a run.

The streets are unfamiliar to me, and it takes me a couple of miles to get my bearings in the large suburb that Paige lives in.

It is pretty nice, I have to admit, with greenery and foliage everywhere. It’s also remarkably clean on the sidewalks, no cracks, no cigarette butts.

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