Page 88 of The Bodyguard

“All right?” Parker asked, keen to what should’ve been Sawyer’s line of questioning. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Is your arm worse than what you’ve shared?”

“No, it’s fine enough.” As if on cue, his bicep ached. “Nothing else.”

“That sounds like a load of shit, Sawyer. Is Angela okay?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Because it’s the second time she’s been shot at in a little over two weeks.”

“Well, yeah. Okay. That. She’s fine.” Sawyer worked through how he sounded. Like an idiot. Or a caveman. Probably an idiotic caveman. He rubbed a hand over his face. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to his and Angela’s situation. It’d be unprofessional, and she deserved more than speculation about her private life.

Sawyer stared at the suit and rubbed the back of his neck. He was overthinking a conversation about his wardrobe. “So, nothing on the agenda until you know more?”

“Nothing at all,” Parker confirmed.

“Great.”

“Are you bored or something?”

His mind flashed to the room across the hall and the woman who was likely standing naked and alone under the hot, steamy shower at that moment. “No, I’m surviving.” Again, he ran a hand over his face.

Parker waited for a beat. “Something’s wrong, bud. I can hear it.”

“No,” Sawyer said too quickly. “This is the thing. I don’t have a weapon, but the clothing options hanging in the closet say we’re headed for a night on the town.”

Parker laughed. “Oh, okay. I asked Amanda to make the luggage arrangements, since I don’t have Angela’s sizes on file. She probably put more thought into the clothes than I would have.”

That made sense, but Sawyer still didn’t understand the suit and dress. “Thanks, man.” Sawyer considered callingAmanda, but it was the middle of the night in Abu Dhabi. “Let me know when you’re ready to share new intel.”

“Roger that.”

Sawyer tossed the cell phone onto the bed and stared at the lonely king-size mattress. He didn’t want to sleep alone tonight; he didn’t want to sleep withoutAngela. She burrowed against him and made everything right in the world. He released a breath and knew he was falling hard.

Sawyer walked to the window. Their agreement was temporary. They would either find Mylene or they wouldn’t. Then they would return to their usual routines in Abu Dhabi after Angela testified against Pham. They wouldn’t be together as they were now.

That was a good thing. He didn’t have it in him to fall in love. Sawyer pinched the bridge of his nose. He wouldn’t think of the past, of what he lost, and he refused to compare Angela to—his cell phone buzzed. Sawyer dropped his head back and inhaled deeply before answering Parker’s call.

“I changed my mind,” Parker said in greeting. “I think I know where Pham’s people are hiding Mylene.”

An unreadable edge growled underneath what Parker had said and what he hadn’t. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Parker grumbled. “It’s not you…”

“Something you don’t want to tell Angela?”

“Yeah,” he finally admitted. “How’s she doing?”

Sawyer snorted. “All’s apparently fine if you have a closet filled with pretty clothes. So hell if I know.”

Parker chuckled. “Good idea on Amanda’s part. Give Angela surface-level diversions for a distraction.”

Was their hookup a surface-level distraction? Sawyer’s gut churned. Two shootings and a breakup? That made a scary amount of sense. He paced the length of the hotel room. “What don’t you want to tell her?”

“I’m unsure if Mylene is Pham’s victim oremployee.”

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