Page 54 of Caleb
I should want to be Ambassador Murphy’s pet bodyguard. This job is too important for me to entertain this petty dynamic.
He’s the boss.
“Always, Mr. Ambassador.”
“Call me the second you arrive.” He graces me with the usual incisive once-over and heads back toward the hotel with his chin held up high like he’s some fucking demi-god.
Entitled good-looking son of a bitch.
Red just woke up after dozing off for the first hour of the ride. There’s officially still a little over an hour before we get to Paris, but Scott’s going way over the speed limit as per Ambassador Murphy’s instructions, so we’ll probably get there in record time. Scott knows we’re safe from the police and speeding tickets with diplomatic plates.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hey.” I smile and stare at her as she licks her lips, which are slightly paler than usual.
“I know I look like crap.” She chuckles.
You look beautiful.
Squeezing my hands into a single fist is the only way I can remind myself not to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear.
“You certainly do not, Miss Murphy.” I reach out for a bottle of water and offer it to her. “Thirsty?”
“I don’t know.” She grabs the bottle with hesitation. “I feel like I should hydrate, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep it down.”
“Try small sips and feel it out.” I grab a plastic bucket Annette packed for us and show it to her. “Plus, we brought this, so you’re good to go.”
“Oh, God.” She laughs and hides her face behind her hands. I put the bucket down, smiling. “Let’s pray I don’t need it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
Red shivers and hugs herself, letting her head drop back on the headrest.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, somewhat anxious. “Are you cold?” I want her to feel as comfortable as possible.
“No, it’s nothing. I, um—I’m fine.” She takes a small sip like I told her to and runs her tongue along her chapped lips.
“May I?” I reach out the back of my hand toward her. She nods, and I place it against her forehead.Damn it. “Red, you’re burning up.”
“I’m fine,” she says with bunched-up brows. “It’s just food poisoning. I’m already feeling better than I did earlier this morning.”
Sure.
Pulling out my phone to text Annette, I shake my head and ignore Red’s “I’m fine and feeling better” narrative. I want to let Annette know Red has a fever and make sure the doctor is at the Residence when we arrive.
“You should probably get some more sleep,” I mutter, my temper getting the best of me. I hate to see her like this and to feel so helpless—stuck inside a car without medicine or a proper place for her to rest. There’s nothing I can do right now, and it’s irritating the hell out of me.
“I don’t feel like sleeping,” she says defiantly.Bone-deep stubbornness right there. “Let’s just talk. We’ve got time.”
My mouth twitches to the side as I stare at Scott through the rear-view mirror and contemplate my decisions. He’s playing dumb, but I know he’s listening in to our conversation. And he’s not Aaron. A detail she’s also failing to register.
I don’t know if I can trust Scott.
Feeling like a total jerk, I decide to ignore her.
My exchanges with Red tend to get pretty deep most of the time, and as much as I would love to distract her on the way back home with some good conversation, I think it’s best to keep my distance.
“Stop being weird,” she drawls, her head still relaxed against the headrest.
