Page 71 of Her Guardian
“You want to?” I shrug my shoulders. “Sure, but we’ll do that tomorrow. Something I need to do today.”
“Does that mean I have to go back to my room?” she asks, the excitement dissipating.
“No, this actually involves you,” I reply, leaning closer and lowering my voice. “I believe I promised to replace a couple of bras after I ripped them off you.”
“You did!” she chirps happily, excitement in her tone and her eyes. “I didn’t think you’d remember, though.”
“You could use some more underwear too,” I continue, winking at her and lighting a cigarette once we’re outside. “You can get your clothes washed at the hotel, but who knows, you might be here a while. Maybe we should get you a few more things to wear. I assume you’re not going back to Pine Grove until we catch this fucker. Considering howimportantit is.”
She pauses and looks down. She nibbles the inside of her mouth for a moment before lifting her head. “No, if the Mafia Prince Killer is in Las Vegas, I’m staying.”
“We’ll pretend that’s the only reason,” I smirk, opening the door for her. I smack her ass when she climbs up. “Even though we both know you’re mine now.”
I slam the door before she can reply. She knows it. So do I. I’m not going to take her freedom away. No reason to clip beautiful wings like the ones she has. Maybe they could use a light trim. We’ll figure it out.
Sarah has already filled the SUV with the scent of strawberries and cream by the time I open my door. I take a drag from my cigarette and toss it before I get in.
“Are you going to dress me up like a doll, Big Boyd?” Sarah asks, tilting her head. “I’m not going to be a showgirl or Las Vegas pretty, even if you put me in a dress.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” I look over at her as I crank up the SUV. “You can pick everything out. As long as you model it for me. And yes, I’m talking about the underwear, too.”
“I don’t think they let you try that stuff on at the store,” she laughs.
“And whatever Las Vegas pretty is, I likeSarah pretty, so just stick with that,” I rumble, flashing her a scowl before I pull out of the parking lot. My eyes linger long enough to see her blush before I have to look back at the road. “I even liked it when you had those purple highlights in your hair.”
“Oh, wow!” She leans against the seat and her laughter rings out. “Yeah, that was temporary. Washed out in less than a week. You really were paying attention to me every time I was in Las Vegas.”
“Not much of a liar,” I say. “Already told you that. But apparently, I wasn’t paying close enough attention. Should have followed you everywhere you went.”
“You would not be good at following someone,” she laughs. “If they didn’t see you, they’d hear you.”
“Yeah, I’m not really the stalking type. Kick in the door, then figure the rest of it out.” I shrug. “It works most of the time.”
“Except you’ve got some scars that I’m pretty sure are from bullets,” she says.
“Yeah,” I confirm, nodding. “Takes more than one to slow me down.”
“Still better to avoid them.” She nibbles the inside of her mouth, a look of worry darkening her eyes.
“Don’t worry. Outside of that fucking serial killer, things are pretty peaceful in Las Vegas these days. And tomorrow, you’ll see that I’m rarely in danger of getting shot at,” I chuckle.
I turn into a luxury shopping pavilion, one a little pricier than most tourists can afford. Most of the stores are boutiques. But more important, they’re all owned by someone close to the Morandi family. They’ll take good care of us.
“I can’t even pronounce the name of this store,” Sarah says, glancing up at the sign as I park.
“Me either,” I shrug, getting out of the vehicle.
Sarah waits for me to open her door, and I help her down. She takes a puff of her vape before putting it away and looking around the pavilion. “Yeah, I can’t afford to shop at any of thesestores, Boyd. There’s a freaking Christian Louboutin store over there! And a Prada. Gucci. Another one I can’t pronounce.”
“Good thing I’m buying then.” I take her hand, and she comes with me to the front of the boutique, then I smack her ass. “But I think you already knew that.”
“I mean, I assumed,” she laughs, rubbing her bottom and glaring at me. “But you’re not buying me anything expensive. Seriously. I got the bras you ripped off me from the clearance rack at a department store.”
I sigh and open the door. “Get your ass in there. If you even look at a price tag, you’re getting spanked in the dressing room.”
She flashes an apprehensive glance as she walks past me, like she isn’t sure if I mean it. I do. But I think she’s smart enough to figure that out. I watch her closely and smile when I notice her examine a few things without looking at the price tags.
“Hello, welcome to La’Quicin’s,” a young woman says as she walks up to us. “Anything I can help you find today?”
