Page 10 of The Brat and the Bodyguard

“Hi Karl,” I greet through chattering teeth while simultaneously shooting him a dirty look. “What are you doing here?”

“What amIdoing here?” he rages. “What the fuck areyoudoing, taking a cold plunge this time of day?”

I stare at him.

“I was saving a drowning dog, in case you couldn’t tell.”

I bend to let Button down, and she leaps out of my arms, barking cheerfully like her life wasn’t just in danger.

“You were saving adog?” Karl curses. “Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” I say in a prim voice while crossing my arms over my chest. I feel like I’m frozen solid at the moment, and the rivulets of icy water running down my curves don’t help. My oversize white t-shirt is stuck to my big breasts, and my pink sweatpants are clinging to my thighs like saran wrap. “Button is a show dog,” I say in a haughty tone. “Her real name isn’t even Button. Her competition name is Champion Castlemark’s Perl Du Sahel, which for your information, means Pearl of the Sahel Desert. The Sahel is a region in Africa,” I snark.

Karl is so angry now that he looks ready to erupt. His face is red, his eyes bulge from their sockets, and his shoulders seem to have gotten wider and broader as he bristles. Is that even possible? Then, without further ado, the big man grabs me and tosses me head over heels onto his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Hey, wait a minute!” I cry, beating at his broad back with my fists. But he doesn’t even seem to feel it. Instead, the alpha male strides along the property, his long legs eating up the distance. “Where are you taking me? I can’t leave Button, she’s off leash!”

“I don’t give a fuck about your dog, and Idefinitelydon’t give a fuck about what you want,” he growls, heading for a nondescript black car. “Get in!”

He opens the door and literally tosses me into the passenger seat before reaching around and strapping the seatbelt viciously around my curves. I swear, if Karl could bind me with a rope, I think he’d do it. But the seatbelt is all there is, and his big hands work quickly. Within seconds, I’ve been restrained, and he’s in the driver’s seat as we take off with a rush.

“Oh my god!” I shriek. “You’re kidnapping me! I’m going to tell—”

“Tell who?” he barks, his hands gripping the wheel as he stares straight ahead. “Your brother? The police? Who?” he demands roughly.

My mouth snaps shut because there’s no one to call. Instead, my over-protective bodyguard has me where he wants, and against all odds, a thrill of excitement runs down my spine ... because I can’t wait to see what he does with my wet curves next.

6

Karl

She’s insane. That’s the long and the short of it. Patrick O’Lachlan warned me that his sister was a handful, but he didn’t mention that Ainsley also suffers from mental illness.

After all, what in the world could drive a woman to sacrifice herself for a dog? If the dog had been a child, I’d get it. But adog? Come on. That damn thing didn’t even thank Ainsley after being rescued. It ran off, happy as can be, chasing a butterfly like nothing had just happened.

But now we’re back at the Degas. I dragged Ainsley up to her suite, ignoring the guests who stared at a massive bodyguard striding through the lobby with a puny, damp woman over his shoulder. Then, I keyed open the door to her suite, before striding through the living room and entering the master bath. It’s a luxurious set-up, with a marble countertop, double sinks, and a massive stall for showering. But I don’t care about that. Instead, I’ve filled the tub with hot water and glower at Ainsley.

“Get in,” I rasp, my expression thunderous.

“What?” she squeaks, covering her big breasts with her arms. Those narrow shoulders shiver with cold, even as she tries to be impertinent. “No! First, I need to know how you have the key to my suite.”

I glare at her, towering over her tiny form by at least a foot.

“I have the keys to your suite because your brother called the hotel and authorized me,” I say in a slow voice, like she’s a child. “Your brother is the one paying the bills, and the hotel knows that. So now, I have your key.”

“What?” Ainsley squeals again, adorable despite the fact that she’s dripping wet. Her red hair hangs in a rope down her back, and her soaked clothes cling to her curves, emphasizing her hourglass shape. “I’m talking to Patrick,” she says in a rush. “No way you should have keys to my suite! You could barge in at anytime!”

“Yeah, I think that’s the point,” I drawl. “I’m your bodyguard, and I should be able to access this space in case you’re in danger. Now get in the tub,” I growl in a thunderous voice. “Otherwise, I’m going to make you do it, and it’s not going to be pretty.”

She glares at me, but her shivers have become so strong that her teeth are chattering audibly.

“Okay, fine,” she grunts with a baleful look my way. “But give me some privacy, okay? A girl needs her privacy.”

“No,” I state in a flat voice.

Ainsley stares at me, her cheeks slowly going pink with a flush.

“Excuse me?” she asks. “You’re going to stand here as I get undressed and take a bath? That isnotwhat my brother had in mind.”

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