Page 22 of The Bodyguard

“You think it’s one of my people?”

“I think someone inside your orbit is feeding them intel. And I’m going to find out who.”

She didn’t nod. Didn’t argue. She just stared out the window, lips parted, jaw clenched like she was holding in a scream.

Back at the loft, he keyed them in. They entered without a word. Andi dropped her clutch on the counter and crossed to the windows, looking out over the city like it might offer her an answer.

He watched her from the doorway. The way her shoulders lifted and dropped with each breath. The way her hands curled against the sill.

“You’re too close to this,” he said softly.

“I have to be. It’s my life.”

“You’re allowed to let someone else protect you.”

Her laugh cracked like glass. “I wasn’t raised that way, Langdon.”

“Maybe you should’ve been.”

She turned. “You know nothing about how I was raised.”

“You’re right.” He stepped closer. “I just know what I see.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re falling apart, and you’re trying so damn hard not to show it.”

She opened her mouth to fire back. Closed it again.

He moved to her, stopped just short of touching. “I gave you an order today,” he said.

“I followed it.”

“You did. But you hated every second.”

“Of course I did. I don’t follow orders. I give them.”

“That’s going to be a problem.”

She lifted her chin. “Then fire me.”

“I don’t fire clients,” he said quietly. “I restrain them if I have to.”

Her breath hitched. He saw it. He stepped closer.

“If I told you to go to your knees right now, would you do it?”

Silence stretched between them. Long. Breathless.

Then she said, “I don’t take orders from bodyguards.”

“But you want to.”

Color rushed into her cheeks.

That was the moment. Right there when Mitch knew he was in deep—past the job, past the rules, past every professional line he’d ever drawn.

He didn’t just want to protect her; he wanted to possess her.

---