Page 12 of Her Guardian
Our food arrives and offers a momentary distraction from the conversation. I’m done with my drink, so I ask for another. Sarah is still nursing her Cherry Vyssinatha, but she seems to like it. She just doesn’t put them back like I do. It takes a lot for me to even feel a buzz, much less get drunk.
“Okay, I’m a gyro fan,” Sarah says with a smile. “And this potato salad is better than the one Lea’s grandmother used to make.”
“Glad you like it,” I grunt, chasing a bite of mine with a gulp of scotch.
“Tell me more about being Erica’s bodyguard,” she says. “If you don’t mind talking about it. I’m sure it wasn’t all shopping sprees and boring lunches.”
“Nah, there are a few stories I can tell you,” I sigh. “Maybe even some you can use on your podcast, if you’re vague enough.”
Sarah perks up and pays attention. I hate to admit I’m enjoying talking to her. That I’m loving every adorable thing she does. But this is business. A direct order from the man who now sits at the head of the table.
If she’s with me, she isn’t bothering the boss.
I’m just doing my job.
CHAPTER 5
Sarah
I turn up the charm once Boyd opens up and starts telling me about his time as Erica’s bodyguard.
It’s not entirely for show. Boyd is a little scary, and could break me in half with his pinkie, but I find myself wishing the night wasn’t over when we finally leave his uncle’s restaurant.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say, looking up at him and meeting his emerald-gold gaze.
“You’re welcome,” he mumbles, his normally gruff expression softening some.
I’m not falling in love or anything, but my mind is wandering. I guess it’s only natural when you get to spend the day with a gorgeous mountain of a man who looks like a giant Greek god.
“So, what’s next?” I ask, pulling on my vape and blowing the vapor into the air.
“Next?” He glances at his watch. “I think it’s past your bedtime, little girl.”
I look at my phone and scoff. “You think I go to bed at ten o’clock? I haven’t been to bed this early since I was in middle school.”
“That’s probably why you look like you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since then,” he retorts.
“That’s not the reason,” I mutter, feeling slightly offended. I guess he’s noticed the bags under my eyes. I didn’t do much to hide them. “It’s been a rough year—a rough couple of years, actually.”
“Mm,” he says, opening my door. “You should try to get some rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, I’ll meet you for coffee and we can go over your notes. I’ll fill in the gaps where I can.”
“Okay,” I relent. “Back to the casino, then.”
I steal a couple of glances at Boyd while he drives. The flutter in my stomach is back. I’m imagining what it would be like to have those big—reallybig—hands all over my body. I don’t know why I’m letting my fantasies run wild. I’m a virgin and there’s no way I’d ever do something like that with a guy I just met. Especially a guy in the Mafia.
“Let’s plan to meet at eight,” Boyd suggests. “There’s a café next to the lobby in the casino.”
“I’ve gotten coffee there a few times,” I say, looking at the casino as we approach.
Salvalagio looks beautiful at night. I’ve seen pictures from before the Morandi family took it over. Back when it was still called the Bellagio. I don’t know why they changed the name. MaybeSalvatore Morandi just liked seeing part of his name on the side of the building.
“Do you live close by, or…” I trail off.
“Not too far,” he answers. “I’ve got a condo near the strip with a nice view. I’m spending a lot more time there recently. I used to stay at Erica and Emilio’s estate most nights.”
“If it’s anything like Massimo’s, I’m sure they had plenty of room,” I remark.
“More than they could use.” He nods in agreement. “Emilio didn’t like his bodyguard staying over, but Erica wanted me there almost all the time in the beginning. Sheactedlike she was scared to death to be married to a Mafia prince. That’s what she called Emilio.”
