Page 52 of Unguarded

“I’ll take another,” Cash says. “She will too.”

Apparently, he’s drinking on the job now.

The man glares at him before turning on his heel to get the drinks.

Brooks and Ember finish their drinks in silence. Cash glares at everyone in the bar, except for me. I glance from his face to my wine and back again, boiling with anger at his sudden lack of apathy.

Oh, he cares now that it makes him look bad for losing his charge. It’s always an ego thing with men.

“You know, maybe you two should talk this out while we make our way back,” Brooks suggests.

Ember looks up at me hopefully. I gape at her incredulously.

She’s abandoning me with this raging jerk.

“I think a nice walk back would be good. You can talk it out and meet up with us before dinner,” she rushes to explain.

I don’t even get the chance to respond before she’s slipping out of the booth.

Brooks lays his card down on the table. “Don’t take advantage, but the next round is on me if you twopromiseto hear each other out and attempt to resolve wherever this conflict stems from, all right? We’ll see you back at the hotel by four so we can all get ready for dinner. If it’s any longer than that, we’ll send out a search party.”

He taps the blue credit card on the table before grabbing Ember’s hand and exiting the bar. I watch them leave, feeling a strange combination of sadness, excitement, and lingering anger.

The waiter returns with yet another round, this time bringing us both a drink. Cash grabs his glass, closing hiseyes as he slowly drains it all in one gulp. This is by far the most alcohol I’ve ever seen him consume.

“I genuinely don’t see what your problem is. You don’t want me, so why do you care if other men do? We were perfectly safe.” The words spill out before I can check myself.

I sip on my fourth glass of rosé, the alcohol spreading a tingly warmth through my veins. He studies me with more rage and desire than I’ve ever felt from any one man. My chest caves in with the intensity. My core is pulsing with desire.

“I need to pee,” I choke out. I really do. I haven’t gone since I left the hotel, and I’m desperate to escape this, just for a moment of reprieve to get my pulse to slow down.

I crawl out of the booth. I roll my eyes as the brooding bodyguard follows me to the restroom at the back of the bar.

“Am I not allowed to go to the bathroom without an escort?” I throw back at him, rolling my eyes.

He doesn’t respond.

Back to the silent treatment, I see.

“Good. I like you better when you’re seen and not heard.”

He still doesn’t respond.

The restrooms are around the corner in a quiet hallway. The individual stalls are all unisex, so I push open the door to one of them. When I turn to close it, a broad-shouldered cowboy blocks the doorway. I open my mouth to protest, but he shoves himself through the opening, slamming it closed behind him.

“What are you?—”

My voice halts when his big, callus hands close in around me. One cups the dip in my waist, the other gatheringaround the side of my neck, his thumb forcing my chin up to meet his gaze. Green eyes glint with annoyance down at me.

“You’re kind of a brat—you know that?”

I gasp, desire mingling with the alcohol and blurring all my senses, except for lust. He presses my back against the wall, taking up my personal space.

“You genuinely think I don’t want you? You think watching you walk around with every man on the planet vying for your attention is easy for me? Is torturing me like thisfunfor you, Princess?” His skin is hot on mine, the rough pads of his fingers sending sparks down my spine.

“I—I don’t—” I scramble for a response, but all I can think about is how badly I want him to keep touching me, looking at me, and calling me that damn nickname. “I don’t know what you want from me,” I finally get out.

He’s furious, neck veins popping and gritted teeth making it clear as his grip tightens around my throat and waist.

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