Page 10 of Pack Choice
“Six months ago? I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’ve been doing the heavy lifting jobs. Not the baby-sitting gigs.”
“Babysitting?” I say, my tone sharpening.
His eyes dart back to mine in the mirror.
“Chaperoning,” he corrects. “To be honest, it’s good to have something less challenging for a while, before going back to the more exciting assignments.”
My eyebrow jerks and I look out the window. Okay, I’m sure chaperoning me around town isn’t that exciting for an alpha used to spraying bullets on a battlefield, but does he have to be so blunt about it? He could at least pretend.
We hit the busy city center, joining the back of a line of traffic and crawling through the streets.
I ignore the alpha in the driver seat, although I can feel his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror more than I’m sure is necessary. He’s probably realizing that upsetting the client is not the best achievement, especially when the client is your boss’s packmate’s sister.
After ten minutes, he points to a tower.
“That’s your one.”
I lean forward in my seat, peering up at it, a thrill skipping through my blood. The tower is new and slick, reflecting bright sunshine in all directions. This is a proper company and I am going to have a proper job.
“I’ll just find somewhere for us to park up,” Ford says.
“You can drop me on the sidewalk,” I tell him.
“No,” he says firmly. “I’ve had my instructions. Do not let you out of my sight.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me on the walk from the car to the office doors.”
“It could and I have my orders.” He meets my eyes in the mirror again, this time with a steely look. “I’ve been told you can be a bit of a handful.”
“What? By whom?”
“Silver.”
“Silver!” And there I was thinking he was on my side.
“Is it true?”
I could almost imagine he’s flirting with me, except his face is a mask of professionalism, and so is his tone.
I shrug. “Depends,” I say casually.
“On what?”
I shrug again. Not answering. Because the answer is a complicated one. For someone like Phil – calm, sweet, devoted to his family and willing to provide me with an awful lot of slack – I’m willing to behave impeccably. We have an understanding. But some of the bodyguards – the ones who like to order me about and think they own my ass – for them I am as bratty as it’s possible to be.
I’m not sure yet where Ford is going to fall.
Is it wrong of me that I almost hope it’s in the latter camp?
3
Molly
As soon aswe’re parked up, I’m out of the car and bustling along the sidewalk towards my new office block. Ha, Mr. Military hasn’t figured out the old child-lock trick yet. Ha! He yelps behind me, racing to lock up the car and catch me up.
“Molly,” he barks. “Wait!”
