Page 78 of The Bodyguard

Could she?

No. She didn’t know anything other than the instructions they gave her: study what didn’t work, avoid the same mistake twice, and find new places to fuel a public uproar. If not, Pham’s people would punish her.

How would they punish her now that Pham was behind bars and couldn’t watch? When he brought Mylene somewhere as a punishment, she always thought he hurt more than she did. He liked to bring her on family trips—with Angela Sorenson, the woman he used as a stand-in for his dead daughter. Pham made Mylene watch Angela, maybe hoping she would imagine what her life would have been like with Mark.

No matter Pham’s intention, the pseudo-family trips never hit her as they did him. Her house of horrors was much worse because it was real. Mark was dead. Tabby was dead. Their murders were her fault.

Sawyer had spent the night in Angela’s bed and woken with her naked body draped over him. He hadn’t been this content in years. That bothered him, but he refused to let dark thoughts creep into this moment.

Sun peeked from behind the curtains. They hadn’t done a great job of covering the sliding glass door because they’d had no thoughts of anything after dinner except for getting naked all over again.

Angela stirred. He kissed the top of her head. She curled into his side and then stretched. “What time is it?” she asked.

He didn’t care. “Did you sleep well?”

Her smile was answer enough. “Like the dead.”

“You snored like it too.”

“I did not.” She tickled his chest. “You know I didn’t—”

He rolled on top of her, muttering, “Kidding,” amongst his kisses.

And just like that, he wanted her all over again. Sawyer barely had enough thought to slide on protection before he nestled himself inside her body again. This woman needed him as much as he needed her.

Last night was couldn’t-get-enough sex. This was lazy-wake-up sex. He didn’t want to pull orgasm after orgasm from her. Sawyer simply needed to be in her, to feel her, to watch her face, and see her breathe. He wanted to feel her pussy quake with the slow roll of his hips.

Her soft kisses mixed with quiet, needy nuzzles. Instead of digging her nails into his back, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and let his strength drive her into heaven.

Angela came and came. Finally, he didn’t have it in him to hold back. With their lips and legs tangled, Sawyer buried himself deep and let himself fall into her like he’d never let go before.

Afterward, they lay together. Not even the need for coffee pulled them from each other’s arms. His lips rested against her temple. How had he known her for this long without realizing what they would be like together in bed?

Their phones buzzed. He pinched his eyes shut. The real world was calling, and he didn’t want to answer.

Angela tensed in his arms. She wasn’t bounding out of bed either.

“Guess we have to get out of bed sometime,” he muttered.

Their phones rang again.

“Who will it be? Jared, Brock, or Parker?” she asked.

“I’ll start the coffee.”

“God, you’re a good man.”

He kissed her cheek and left her bed. Ten minutes later, they had coffee and a quick breakfast at the kitchen table and called Parker back.

“We have a problem,” Parker said instead of saying hello.

Sawyer grumbled. “Do you always call with problems?”

“Yeah—mostly. Did you not realize that?”

Sawyer ran a hand through his hair. This trip had been too easy. Too good to be true. He should’ve known better. He looked at Angela, who sat straight as a board. Her breakfast spoon dangled in her hand over the ignored instant oatmeal. He tried to remember that problems were expected. Problems were what they fixed for a living. This conversation wasn’t Sawyer’s first encounter with Parker’s all-work grousing. It wouldn’t be the last. But this time, the unknown problem packed a hell of a sucker punch.

“Well, don’t kill us with anticipation.” Sawyer tossed an apple between his hands and tried to relax for Angela’s sake. “What’s up?”

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