Page 34 of The Bodyguard

The floor seemed to tilt. Angela’s throat ached. Sawyer draped his arm over her shoulder and ran his hand along her arm. Finally, the shivers she’d been unable to shake subsided. She could breathe, even if she couldn’t catch her breath. Angela squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m grateful you’re in my life.”

His hold tightened. “Same.” Sawyer placed a chaste kiss on her head and lingered against her hair. “It wouldn’t be the same if you left.”

She wasn’t going anywhere.

Finally, he said, “You should get some sleep.”

Angela didn’t move. So much more was left to say, but she came up completely blank when she tried to think about it. Sawyer let her go and walked away, leaving Angela again to shiver.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The bright afternoon sun poured into Angela’s office. She stared at the notebook on her desk. She hadn’t known that haiku and iambic pentameter would have been part of her job description. Yet here she was, trying to forget the last few days and write snarky poetry for Boss Man.

She was creative to a point, and she had passed that point many, many moons ago. If she hadn’t been waiting for Jared to discuss her request with federal investigators, Angela would have been in her suite, staring out the window she and Sawyer had half hugged in front of, where he dropped a perfectly benign kiss atop her head, wondering if she just experienced her very first spark at more than thirty years old.

Her cheeks flushed hot. Distractions were tantamount right now because there was no way in hell she would let herself think of Sawyer Cabot as anything other than her very good, very platonic friend. Angela refocused on her semi-teasing literary riddle and made absolutely no progress.

Jared knocked on her half-open door and walked inside. His expression was unreadable, and he did not say what his final decision would be.

The best situation might be if he said no. Her safety would be ensured; she’d continue with her everyday job. She might even pull another wordplay message out of nowhere.

But if Jared said yes, her world would turn upside down. That would be hell for a control freak like her. However, she’d asked for the upheaval. She needed to help find Tran Pham’s last victim.

Angela tried for an uninterested look and asked, “What rhymes with bazooka?”

“Crapula.”

“That’s so helpful. Thanks, Boss Man.”

“Literary elements are not my forte.” He sat opposite her and propped his feet on the other chair. “I didn’t expect to come in here and interrupt a psy-ops session.”

She closed the notebook. “The way I figured, if you came in and said we’re a go, I’d need to get ahead on work I won’t have time to do.” She shrugged. “And, if you say we’re a no-go, I’ll bury my disappointment in bad poetry.”

Jared ran a hand through his short-cropped dark hair. “You know what your mother said was bullshit, right?”

She groaned. “Which part?”

“When she insinuated you weren’t part of Titan.”

Angela shrugged. She was more than aware of the circumstances behind her hiring.

“You are Titan.” Jared’s jaw flexed. “In every sense of the word.”

She wasn’t sure if that was true. “Thanks.”

He did not attempt to hide his study of her face but moved on when Angela remained quiet. “I’m worried that Pham is playing a game of mindfucks like a 3-D chess grandmaster.”

She snorted. “He probably is. That’s a good description of his style.”

“And,” Jared continued, “I’m concerned that we don’t know anywhere near enough to make this an effective assignment.”

Her heart sank.

“Parker’s working on more intel, but we’re fishing in a black hole. Lots of nothing is weighing us down.” Jared shook his head. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Angela.” He gauged her reaction. “I think you might need this.”

“I do,” she confirmed, barely trusting her voice.

He grumbled. “I can’t send you somewhere when I don’t have a clue what direction to start.”