Page 13 of The Bodyguard Proposal

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I’m sticking to my shared dorm.”

“I’ve got a private room. Rest there.”

“Don’t you have mortal needs like the rest of us? Don’tyouwant to sleep?”

“I’m your executive protection agent.”

“Huan,” I blurt out suddenly and desperately. “Don’t be like that.”

More thoughts jumble inside me, but I have to say them to him, so at least he understands the general sense of them. “My plans are to be… free… like, really free… on this trip. So I can’t have it be the same as back home. You can’t look after me or my feelings like I’m important. Don’t offer me your room as if I’m different. As if I’m famous. As if my needs matter. Youcan’t.”

He says nothing. Finally, he moves, and I watch as his arms cross tightly against his chest. “You can’t ask me to do that.” His voice is low and deliberate.

Yes, what a frightful demand. Don’t care about me. Or, I guess, be bad at your job.

“You have to,” I plead.

“You don’t know what you are asking.”

“Oh, but I do. This is my proposal for you. My bodyguard proposal. It’s what will make me happy on this trip. If you refuse to agree, it will ruin everything. You don't want to ruin everything for me, do you? Especially if I am yours—” I cough. “Your client, I mean.”

This is a line in the sand between me and Huan. We’ve got to establish this rule between us. Set the expectations of how we’ll be in London together.

“I’m yours, aren't I?” Mimicking his pose, I cross my arms. “The client.”

Darkening pupils search mine. “You... are.”

What a gruff admission.

“It… will be difficult for me,” he argues. “To not care.”

Yes, yes. This man is very dedicated to professionalism and executing his duty with precision. I'm sure I'm asking the worst possible favour from him. It certainly appears so, considering the tightness around his expression. He's chewing his words out, as if there is some acute suffering involved in getting them out.

Regardless, I must persist. “Say yes. Tell me you won’t care about anything about me unless I am physically in danger.”

Has his body gone a bit rigid? The tendons in his neck are standing out. I know he doesn’t want to relent, but I’m staring holes into him. I’ll wait here until he does.

“Please,” I say softly.

Huan freezes. Is it because of the hitch in my voice? Does it convey enough desperation for him? Finally, he answers. “If that is what you truly need, Ms. Chahal.”

Victory!

“Good.” I walk carefully around him. “When I see you in the morning, keep your distance and don’t interfere. You’re not allowed to help, even if I’m struggling.”

“Or?”

“I’ll run away from you.”

“I’ll catch you.”

“You promised,” I remind him.

He sighs. “I did.”

“For the record, you should call me Komal,” I say, ignoring the warmth spreading across my cheeks. “For the purposes of blending in, let's pretend to be friendlier. People will stare if someone like you calls me Ms. Chahal.”

---