Page 156 of Sinful Games

She let out a heavy sigh, arms folded tightly across her chest.

With her fiery red hair sleek and straightened, bold black eyeliner accentuating her intense blue eyes, and clad in a tight black leather mini dress paired with six-inch Louboutin heels, she looked like she’d just stepped out of a music video shoot.

"Fine," she muttered begrudgingly.

“Perfect,” I winked and opened the door. "LeRoy, good to see you," I gestured for him to enter.

"Mr. Romaniev," he shook my hand.

"Please, have a seat," I said, motioning towards the living room where Scarlett sat, her expression a mix of annoyance and resignation.

Théo LeRoy made his way to the living room clad in black jeans, a black Ralph Lauren long-sleeve polo, and black leather boots. He stopped at the table, standing guard like a sentry, arms crossed behind his back, his face stern.

“Good afternoon, Miss Harper,” he said firmly. “I’m Théo LeRoy, and I’ll be your new bodyguard. I promise to keep you safe and sound.”

We all fell silent at his seriousness.

"Well, damn," I said, an amused smile tugging at my lips. "At ease, soldier. See, Scarlett, that’s exactly what you need! A strict, intimidating, muscly man to keep you in line."

Scarlett arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Well, isn’t this just fabulous," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now I have my very own shadow to remind me that danger is always lurking around the corner. How reassuring."

I stifled a cough, shooting her a dark glare. "Oh, come on, Scarlett," I sighed. "Think of LeRoy as your personal reminder to stay out of trouble."

She let out an exaggerated sigh. "Right, because I’m just a magnet for trouble, aren’t I?" Scarlett turned to LeRoy, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Tell me, LeRoy, do you specialize in protecting damsels in distress, or is that just a happy coincidence?"

LeRoy’s expression remained unyielding. "I specialize in keeping my clients safe, Miss Harper, regardless of their... predisposition to trouble."

Scarlett smirked. "Well, lucky me," she pouted, leaning back in her chair. "I’ve always wanted my very own personal babysitters."

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her antics. "Looks like you two are going to get along just fine. I mean, you have to, right, Scarlett?"

Scarlett sighed deeply, her irritation evident in her voice. "Yes, please, spare me the convent."

Finally settling into the chair opposite us, LeRoy ’s hands rested calmly on the table, his eyes scanning the room with a hint of skepticism.

Scarlett’s living room, with its deep blood-red couch and grand chandelier, was just a peek into the chaotic elegance of her apartment. Any unsuspecting visitors would surely be in for a shock.

Picture this: black floors and furniture, decked out with bold red and gold accents—a décor choice that screams "welcome to the lair of Lucifer and his merry band of demons."

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if Scarlett’s hidden talents extend beyond her sharp wit to include a bit of witchcraft. After all, her place practically oozes with a dark energy that makes you half-expect a cauldron bubbling away in the corner.

"So, LeRoy, let’s dive into the nitty-gritty," I said. "Scarlett’s about to embark on a tour in six weeks, which gives us a sweet spot to iron out a routine. You’ll practically be setting up camp here; she’s graciously offering up three guest bedrooms and bathrooms, access to the gym on the third floor, and the cherry on top, a rooftop pool." I handed him a document. "Here’s your ticket to the show—your contract, detailing your salary, expectations, and?—"

"Before we get ahead of ourselves," Scarlett cut in sharply. "We need to talk NDA. I’m not in the mood for another 'former bodyguard spills the tea' headline."

I shot her a warning look, discreetly pinching her leg to shut her up.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, shooting me a glare. "What’s that for?"

"Professionalism, Scarlett," I whispered. "Let’s not scare off the new guy before he even starts."

She rolled her eyes.

"I promise you, Miss Harper, that your private life will remain just that—private," LeRoy assured her, his tone authoritative.

"Besides, Scarlett, who needs paparazzi when you’ve got LeRoy here? With those eagle eyes, he’ll spot a camera from a mile away. You’ll practically be living in a fortress of privacy," I winked.

Scarlett shot me a mock glare. "Well, first, let’s just make sure he’s more Liam Neeson inTakenand less Kevin Costner inThe Bodyguard, okay?"

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