Page 20 of Freeing Savannah

“How’s the headache,” Sawyer asked, joining her at the window.

“Much better, thanks to you.”

“Happy to help.” The words were innocent enough, but for some reason, they bothered Savannah. The curtness of his words was a stark reminder that she was merely a job to him. It wouldbehoove her to remember that although they shared a past together, he’d been hired to protect her, and his duties extended no further than that.

But when she looked at him, she couldn’t help but wish for more. There was no question the man had an undeniable appeal that was beyond sexy. She’d have to be dead not to notice. The way his long, dark hair brushed his collar, combined with the intensity of his stare, had an electrifying effect on her, causing certain parts of her to stand up and take notice. The man’s physique was also impressive, which was undeniably captivating.

When she’d left all those years ago, he’d still been a teenager. With a lanky frame, misaligned teeth, and a somewhat uncoordinated manner. He might have seemed like any other teenager, but to her, he was everything. She’d loved him before she understood what love was, gawkiness and all.

The man before her now was so much more. Strong was a word that jumped out at her to describe him. Confident was another. His bearing screamed SEAL. The way he moved, the set of his jaw, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings. All spoke of years of rigorous training.

She found herself desperate to know this new version of the boy she’d once known. His protectiveness was evident in the way he subtly shielded her from the crowds, his hand a constant, reassuring presence wherever they went. That hadn’t changed. But he was more than that now; a newfound intensity burned in the depths of his eyes. A wisdom that could only have come from his years as a SEAL.

His presence was stronger.

While she had remained the same. Still quiet. Still an introvert. Awkward and weak. There was nothing remarkable about her except for her musical abilities. Her height was normal. Her curves were unremarkable, falling comfortablywithin the average range even with the extra bit of weight she could never seem to lose. Time had softened the bright white blonde of her hair, leaving it a muted, commonplace color. And her eyes were a pale, washed-out blue like faded denim.

Absolutely unremarkable.

In every way.

A man like Sawyer would never be interested in someone as ordinary as her. She’d do well to remember that.

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and brought up her schedule. Fortunately, there were no official events planned until tomorrow, giving everyone a much-needed opportunity to unwind and rest following their long flight, so that they could be well-prepared for their performance the following evening.

In the window’s reflection, she saw Sawyer approach and offer her something, a shiny hair clip. She took it from him and turned the delicate silver clip over in her hands, the crescent shape cool and smooth against her palm. The embedded jewels—sapphire blue and deep amethyst—sparkled faintly in the Parisian light filtering through the suite’s windows.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d meant it to be.

Sawyer stood a few feet away, arms crossed, the collar of his black T-shirt pulled slightly askew like he’d just tugged on it from nerves. Or maybe frustration. Hard to tell with him. “It’s not just for looks.”

Her brows lifted. “Let me guess . . . I can use it as a boomerang?” Mimicking the motion of throwing a boomerang, she pretended to cast the object with a sweeping, arcing movement.

His mouth tilted in a smirk, but his eyes stayed serious. “No. Not a boomerang. Push the center stone. The sapphire. That’s the panic button. It sends an alert to me immediately, with your GPS location. Silent, no alarm sound.”

She blinked, then stared down at the tiny jewel again. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“And the tracking?”

“Built into the frame. Discreet and untraceable unless you know what you’re looking for. I won’t use it unless I have to.”

She didn’t ask what “have to” meant. He wouldn’t say it unless he thought the need might be real.

“I don’t . . .” she trailed off, trying to sort through the knot of reactions inside her chest. “I don’t know whether to be grateful or completely freaked out.”

He stepped closer, just a foot of space between them now. “I hope you never have to use it, Savi. But if something goes wrong, I want to be there before anyone else.”

Savi.

The old nickname wrapped around her like a memory. It softened her resistance, the instinct she’d been trained to carry in the Senator’s world—to pretend everything was always fine, even when it wasn’t.

She looked up at him, into eyes that had once belonged to a boy who’d sworn to protect her. Now they belonged to a man who could probably kill with his bare hands, but still looked at her like she was something sacred.

“I never asked you to?—”

“I don’t need you to ask,” he cut in gently. “You matter to me, and I don't trust the people around you. Let me do this. Just in case.”

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