Page 5 of The Bodyguard's Innocent Obsession
My entire breath catches.
His voice drops an octave, low and gravelly. Dangerous. “If some punk had tried to put his hands on you, I might’ve had to hunt him down and tear his fucking arms off.”
The heat in his gaze is unbearable. Branding. He looks at me like I already belong to him. Like I always have.
My cheeks go up in flames. My thighs press together under my skirt, instinctively, as something unfamiliar and wild coils low in my belly.
I should be shocked by the way he’s acting. Or offended. Or something.
But all I can feel is this dizzy, breathless flutter that fills every inch of me.
A door creaks open down the hall, and I jolt like something hit me with cold water.
Dad walks back in, phone still pressed to his ear. “I’ll be on the next flight out,” he says, then covers the receiver. “I’ve got to fly to D.C. tonight. Emergency committee vote tomorrow. They want me in person.”
“Oh,” I say, trying not to sound panicked. “Okay.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow night, if not earlier,” he tells me. “Lachlan will stay here with you.”
I nod, heart pounding for a totally new reason now.
The second Dad walks away, I sneak a glance at Lachlan. He’s still looking at me with that same dark, burning intensity.
I’m going to be alone in the house with him tonight. And I’m not sure I trust myself not to do anything that would result in my father feeling like he has to fire my new bodyguard.
I swallow hard, looking away.
This is not good.
This is really, really not good.
Chapter Three
Arabella
I should be asleep. It’s after midnight, the whole house is dark and still... except for the kitchen light, and me.
I’m perched at the marble counter, fussing with angles, snapping a few photos of my latest batch of decorated cupcakes. Usually this helps. Calms me. But not tonight.
Tonight, I’m restless. Buzzing. And I know exactly why.
Lachlan.
He’s somewhere in the house, and all I can do is sit here and think about him. All six-foot-four, built like a damn tank inches of him.
The way he’d looked at me earlier is etched into my memory forever. Like I was something he needed. Like he wanted to eat me whole and wouldn’t leave a single bite.
I exhale and toss my phone aside. No amount of posting pretty cupcakes on social media is going to distract me tonight.
Maybe a shower will help. A cold one.
I roll my eyes at myself and head upstairs, padding softly along the polished wood floors. But just as I turn the corner to the bathroom, I freeze.
The door is open a crack, and the light is on. The soft hiss of water echoes from inside.
Oh god. Is he in the shower?
I should turn around. I really should. Instead, I step closer, my heart pounding so hard it rattles my ribs.
