Page 3 of Snowed in with the Bodyguard

I stepped into the room, scanning my surroundings like I always did, taking in the exits, the windows, anything that could pose a threat. That’s when she looked up, her gaze locking on mine. And just like that, my world shifted.

She wasn’t what I expected.

Nineteen, maybe, with blonde hair that caught the afternoon light filtering through the tall windows. And those eyes—hazel, with a mix of green and gold that seemed to see straight through me. She didn’t look at me like I was just another of her father’s hired hands. She looked at me like she wanted to figure me out, like I was a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve. It threw me off balance.

“You must be the new guy,” she said, her voice soft but edged with curiosity. She set the book down, tilting her head as she studied me.

“Jack,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. Professional. That was the job, after all—stay sharp, stay loyal, stay out of trouble. Especially when it came to the boss’s daughter. “Your father hired me to oversee security.”

Her lips twitched into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course he did. Dad loves his security. You’re probably the third or fourth one this year.”

I didn’t respond to that. It wasn’t my place to comment, even though I already didn’t like what I’d seen of Victor Kemp in the few hours I’d been here. The man had power, no doubt, but he wielded it like a weapon, and I could tell it extended to his family. The way the staff avoided eye contact, the way his wife seemed to shrink under his gaze, even the clipped tone he used when speaking to his son—it all left a sour taste in my mouth.

And here was his daughter, looking at me with defiance and curiosity, like she was daring me to crack the polished mask she wore.

“Do you read?” she asked suddenly, nodding toward the shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with books that looked like they’d never been touched.

“Not much time for it,” I admitted, leaning slightly against the doorframe. I kept my stance casual, but my instincts were on high alert, cataloging every detail about her—her relaxed posture, the way her fingers toyed with the edge of the book, the faint trace of rebellion in her smile. “You?”

“All the time,” she said, her voice softening. “It’s the only way to escape when you’re stuck in a place like this.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Hell, what could I say? She wasn’t wrong. This place was a gilded cage, all marble floors and crystal chandeliers, but it was suffocating in a way I couldn’t explain. And if I felt it after only a day here, I couldn’t imagine what it was like to grow up in it.

“You don’t like it here,” I said quietly, not really a question.

Her gaze flickered with something I couldn’t quite place—pain, maybe, or resentment. “Does anyone?”

The honesty in her voice caught me off guard, but I didn’t let it show. I wasn’t here to make friends. I wasn’t here to connect with her. My job was to keep her safe, nothing more. And yet, as she stood and stepped closer,somethingshifted into place inside me, something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

She was too young. Too innocent. And far too off-limits.

“You’re different,” she said, stopping a few feet away. She wasn’t smiling anymore, and her tone had lost its teasing edge. “Most of Dad’s guys are… colder. You don’t seem like them.”

“You don’t know me,” I said firmly, my voice harder than intended. I needed to shut this down before it became something it shouldn’t. “And you shouldn’t try to.”

Her lips parted as if she was going to argue, but then she stopped herself, her expression softening. “You don’t like him, do you? My dad.”

I didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Instead, I straightened, shifting my weight off the doorframe and back onto my feet. “I’m here to do my job, Miss Kemp.”

“Holly,” she corrected, her smile returning, though it was smaller this time. “If we’re going to be stuck in the same house, you might as well call me Holly.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I nodded once and stepped back into the hall, putting as much distance between us as possible without making it obvious. But even as I walked away, her voice lingered in my mind, soft and teasing and far too dangerous.

That was the first time I met Holly Kemp. And even then, I knew she’d be my undoing.

“Behave,” I tell her, now as she stares stubbornly out the windshield. “Don’t pout, and don’t make my job harder than it already is. I didn’t ask to be your bodyguard.”

She lets out a sound—part frustration, part annoyance—but I know better than to expect any kind of agreement from her. We both know this arrangement isn’t what either of us wants. I’mjust here to drive her to her doctor’s appointment, bring her back home, and pass the shift off to Eddie in the evening. My nights are spent in the pool house, a stone’s throw from her father’s mansion, close enough to reach her within minutes if needed. And yet, that proximity feels like a blessing and a curse, especially with the woman herself so often crossing my path.

Why has Victor Kemp suddenly assigned me to Holly? For two years, I’ve been a cog in the well-oiled machine of his empire, a silent shadow tasked with guarding his interests. I’ve handled security for his shady meetings, vetted his high-profile guests, and dealt with threats he barely acknowledged. Not once in all that time did he seem to care who watched over his daughter. So why now?

The question gnaws at me, setting off alarms in the back of my mind. Victor isn’t the kind of man who does anything without a reason. Everything he does serves some agenda, some carefully calculated game he’s playing. And if he’s moved me into Holly’s orbit, it’s not because he’s concerned for her safety. No, Victor doesn’t do concern. He does power plays, manipulation, and strategy. Whatever this is, it’s not as simple as keeping his daughter safe.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She’s still staring out the window, her profile illuminated by the afternoon light. Tension bleeds into her posture, a quiet defiance that I’ve come to recognize as her default when it comes to her father’s decisions. She doesn’t like this arrangement any more than I do, but she doesn’t realize how deep this rabbit hole might go.

Victor’s enemies aren’t the kind of men who give warnings. If they’re after Holly, it means Victor has made yet another move to piss someone off—only this time, he’s used his daughter as collateral. My stomach tightens at the thought. I can’t protecther properly if I don’t know the full story, and Victor isn’t exactly forthcoming with details.

Holly shifts in her seat, breaking into my thoughts. “Why are you so quiet?” she asks, her voice softer now, almost curious.

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