Page 29 of The Bodyguard

“You don’t think I’m super-hot?” He raises a brow and I sigh quietly, and I really wish I hadn’t ditched that unfinished glass of champagne now.

“I’m not having this conversation.”

I try to back out of his arms but his hand presses firmly against the base of my spine, and he leans into me again, his mouth almost touching my neck as he whispers in my ear. “Becauseyoukind ofdolook super-hot.”

I feel that warm flush start to creep up my neck again, and I’m suddenly aware of my fingers gripping his arms, quite tightly, actually, and I loosen that grip a little.

“Look at me, Lena.”

Another instruction, but I’m in no position to fight it, we’re too much on show here.

“You need to commit to this, do you understand?”

I feel his hand fan out at the small of my back, he keeps it pressed firmly against me, and then, before I have a chance to take a breath, he kisses me. A quick kiss, his lips barely graze mine, but I don’t even get a second to let that sink in before he kisses me again, and this time it’s a longer, deeper kiss, and as much as I want to pull away I know I can’t, what would that look like? So, yeah, I’m angry at him for doing this, for putting me in this position, and the second his lips leave mine I force a smile, and I lean into him, my hand pressed against the back of his neck as I whisper in his ear, “Don’t ever do that again.”

I’m still smiling as I step out of his arms and walk away, but it’s taking every ounce of my resolve to keep that smile fixed on my face, I only let it drop once I’ve made my escape. Once the rest room door’s swung shut behind me.

I lean back against the marble counter, close my eyes, and take a breath. There’s a bubble of pent-up anger lodged in my throat, I can’t believe he did that. But I need to breathe this out: let it go.

Turning around, I stare at my reflection in the mirrored wall above the line of circular basins. And I lift my fingers to my lips, lightly touching them, I can still taste him.

Reaching inside my bag I pull out a tissue, wipe my mouth, and re-do my lipstick, and I take my time, I’m in no hurry to get back out there. But I know I have to. I can’t stay in here forever. So, I take one more long, deep breath, exhale slowly, and waste a few more seconds unnecessarily adjusting my jumpsuit before I step back outside, only to find him – Bodie – leaning back against the wall, one foot up against it, his hands in his pockets.

“You followed me?”

“I’m doing my job.” He flashes me an arrogance-laced grin. “You shouldn’t disappear like that.”

“Jesus, am I not allowed to pee in private now?”

He just arches a brow.

“Come here.”

He frowns, and he doesn’t move, he stays exactly where he is. “I’m sorry?”

“Come here.”

“Okay.” He sighs and pushes himself away from the wall, coming over to me, and the second he’s close enough I raise a hand and slap him. Not hard, but the connection’s enough to make him step back and throw me a confused scowl. “What the hell wasthatfor?”

“Don’t you dare put me in that position again, do you hear me? I understand what we’re having to do here, I get it, but that…”

“Was necessary.”

“Really?”

He shrugs, and he knows I’m pissed, but I swear he’s doing this deliberately now.

“Look, Lena, you might think I’m nothing but an irritant, doing everything in my power to knowingly get on your last fucking nerve, but seriously, sweetheart, I have so many other things I would rather be doing than this. So let’s just do what we have to do for however long it takes, and then we can both walk away and forget we ever met. Okay?”

Did he just call me sweetheart? In that condescending tone of voice? Do I have some kind of arsehole magnet attached to me or something?

“Okay.”

I feel my shoulders sag, there’s nothing else I can do. We know where we stand now. We knowexactlywhere we stand.

“We should get back out there.”

But neither of us move, not straightaway, it’s like some weird kind of Mexican stand-off. And then he holds out his hand but there is no way I’m taking it.

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