Page 51 of The Bodyguard

She cocks her head, just a little, and the smile fades from her face. “Do you regret it?”

Yes. No. I should, regret it. But I don’t. I can’t. God help me, I can’t.

“No. But this isn’t what your family hired me to do. I’m your bodyguard, an employee, and I stepped over a line. I let my guard down. What we did wasn’t protecting you…”

She shuts me up with another kiss, and again she’s confusing the shit out of a situation that’s already gone too far.

“Our secret.” The smile’s back, her eyes shining. And I don’t know what the fuck to feel now. “It’s going to make pretending so much easier, don’t you think?”

No. I think it’s going to make pretending so much harder. I have no idea how good her family – the people around her – are at reading people. Seeing through people. I’m good at my job, that’s why they haven’t seen throughmeyet, but this – this is a weakness I can’t afford to have. And yet, I’m loathe to let this woman go. I don’t think she deserves this life, the lies she’s being fed, the risks they’re putting her under. But my job, ultimately, isn’t to save her and her alone. It’s so much bigger than that, thousands of lives could be at stake, if I fail. But I can’t let her go. I won’t, let her go, I’ll find a way to fix this. To letushappen, I just can’t do that now.

“I think we need to tidy this place up before your parents come home.”

She steps out of my arms and looks around, crouching down to pick up her discarded underwear, which she shoves in her pocket. “You’re right,” she sighs, opening a cupboard and taking out a J-cloth and some cleaning fluid. And she looks at me, and smiles again. I haven’t seen her smile this much since I’ve known her, which has, in reality, been all of a couple of weeks. So fast. Too quick? Maybe. The situation doesn’t help, it might even be clouding things a little, but my gut feeling is that Lena Nielsen needs to know the truth.

About everything?

Yeah.

One day.

And that day’s coming soon.

Eleven

Lena

I never used to believe in fate. David kind of knocked that overly-romantic, saccharine shit out of me, and after he’d gone I’d decided never to fall for that sugar-coated crap again. I’d decided it was probably best to put a barrier between me and anything that had the potential to hurt me, although, let’s get one thing straight, David did not hurt me. He pissed me off, he humiliated me, he made me wary of ever embarking on another relationship ever again, but he didn’t hurt me. I was glad to see the back of him, I think I’ve already made that clear, but putting that barrier up, that was an important lesson. And then came Bodie Bekker.

I should’ve raised that barrier higher, even more so after what happened between us, because I’m not sure he’s feeling anything close to what I’m feeling right now. And I hate that I’m feeling anything at all, but the memories of that first time – the only time – we had sex, I replay those a lot. Pretty much all the time, to be honest. They live on in my brain, on an almost constant loop.

Our secret.

And they can be exciting, you know? Secrets. They don’t always have to be dark or dangerous, but right now, I think I’m experiencing both. On the one hand, there’s Bodie. My delicious secret. A man I started out wanting to get away from and now, against my better judgement, I’m suddenly one of those people who’s started believing in fate and destiny. I’ve decided we were always meant to be together, even if he doesn’t seem to feel the same way.

And then there are the kind of secrets my father and brother are keeping. My mother, too? I don’t know. But the atmosphere at home is growing darker; more claustrophobic with each passing day. Doors are closed in my face, I’m being instructed to leave my father and Ollie alone, they have important work to do, apparently. And it’s distracting. I’m worried.

“Hey. Do you fancy grabbing some fresh air?”

I look up from my desk to see Bodie standing in the doorway to my office, hands in pockets, his shirtsleeves rolled up over his forearms. He’s pretending to work here now. Dad’s idea. Just makes it easier for him to be around me all day when he’s in an office right next door to mine.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Have things been awkward between us, since we fucked? I’m not sure. They’ve been different, that’s a given. You can’t do what we did and pretend it didn’t happen. I mean, you can try, but it doesn’t always work. I think he’s trying harder than me. I don’t want to forget it, but I think I might have to get used to the fact that it was nothing more than a one-off, something that happened because we let our emotions get the better of us. That’s certainly how it seems to be for him.

“You should take a break.”

I look at him, and I can’t stop my heart from beating faster, but I’m not going to let him see how much his indifference is affecting me. “I’m fine. I’d rather get this done before the weekend.”

He moves further into the room, and I drop my head and concentrate on my work. Well, that was my intention, anyway. I’m not sure it’s working.

“I want to talk to you, Lena.”

Want, not need. Is there a difference? Or am I reading too much into what he’s saying?

He’s right by my desk now, I can smell his cologne. A deep, dark scent that reminds me of those few beautiful minutes he spent inside me. And that thought sends my stomach into a round of somersaults I haven’t felt since, well, ever. I’ve never felt that. Until now.

I look up, slowly, because when his eyes meet mine it’s all-out torture as far as I’m concerned. And I hate that I feel this way, that he came into my life the way he did. Uninvited. I didn’t want him here. And now I’m dreading the day he has to leave.

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