Page 47 of The Bodyguard

Like he cares. “Not really. I was hoping for a quiet day.”

My father doesn’t indulge in small talk, so I have no idea why he’s doing it now.

“No leaving the house without Bodie.”

He’s talking to me like I’m some petulant child he’s trying to keep in line rather than his thirty-six-year-old daughter. And then he gets up, and walks back towards the house without another word. He’s done. Finished with me. And there’s not a fucking thing I can do about that.

Bodie

I watch as Mikkel Nielsen’s car drives away, and then I check to see where Lena is. She’s still outside. So I pull out my phone, keeping my eyes on her as I wait for the person on the other end of the line to pick up, which takes exactly three rings. As usual. It’s our code.

“I’ve managed to copy the contents of Mikkel Nielsen’s home laptop.”

“Good. Send it over as soon as you can.”

“I’m assuming we still have eyes on Novak?”

“He’s laying low. Rarely leaves the hotel. We haven’t seen him at all this morning, but we know Nielsen’s on his way.”

“Yeah, he’s just left. What about Ollie?”

“Already there. Arrived half an hour ago.”

“Okay. And thanks for getting Tawnee Nielsen out of the way. I don’t know what you told her but she moved out of here pretty fast.”

“We’re miracle workers, remember?”

I glance outside again. Lena’s not there now, and I’m assuming she’s come back inside, but I can’t have her out of my sight. So I need to go. “I’ll check back in later.”

I end the call just as Lena walks into the room, arms folded over her chest, her expression confused.

I turn around and lean back against the window-ledge. “Everything alright?”

She looks at me, but her expression doesn’t change. “My dad seems to think I’m in need of a lecture.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Have you been told off?”

The corner of her mouth lifts slightly. “For leaving early last night. And, to be honest, he’s right. It was very unprofessional of me, to up and leave like that.”

“Maybe.” I smile at her. “But I’m kind of glad you did. I really enjoyed last night.”

Her smile widens a little, and I look at her, and then I remember what’s at stake here if I get too distracted. I shouldn’t be talking like this, I should be backing off, from this, but she’s pulling me in a direction I should not be going in, and it’s fucking hard to resist.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I had a nice time.”

What the fuck am I doing? I need to stop this. I need to take a step back… no. I need to take a whole heap of steps back. Who’s being unprofessional now?

“You’re not just telling me that because you think it’s what I want to hear?” Her eyes are wide and staring deep into mine and, Jesus, she’s beautiful. Even slightly hungover with her hair tousled and her face make-up free, she’s fucking beautiful. And I never noticed it before, because in the beginning she got on my nerves, well, maybeshedidn’t get on my nerves but the whole situation did. I was somewhere I didn’t want to be and yet, now, I don’t think I want to be anywhere else. But I have to end this before it starts, it’s too dangerous. Far too fucking dangerous.

“I need to go back to the cottage, to get my laptop.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She’s disappointed, that I’ve abruptly cut that conversation short, stopped it in its tracks before it went somewhere it really can’t go.

Does she feel it, too…?

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