Page 52 of Bodyguard Beast


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The man slipped off his stool and helped her off hers. She staggered into him and giggled.

“Charlotte,” Sienna called, but her friend patted her on her back in a reassuring way before she headed off with the man.

Sienna glanced in my direction.

I immediately rose to my feet and headed over to her.

As soon as I arrived at her side, she turned to me. “Could you help me keep an eye on Charlotte?”

“I’m not paid to guard her,” I responded.

“I know,” she said, “but I didn’t stop her because usually she can hold her drink better than me, but I think the jetlag got to her and I’m worried.”

I glanced darkly at the man by her side. “Let’s leave then.”

She almost jumped off the stool in her haste. “Got to go, but thanks for the great conversation,” she informed the man who looked stunned.

We found her friend in a corridor.

She had a tongue down her throat, but one word from me and the man jerked away in fright.

Her friend was so shit-faced with the man holding her up, she just slid down the floor in a heap. She would definitely have one hell of a hangover in the morning. “Hey,” she protested, looking around her blankly.

“Fuck off,” I told the man. He was one of these new breed of metro men. I could smell the gel he had worked into his hair.

First, his eyes widened, then he scurried away without a word or a backward glance.

“What happened to Mike?” she mumbled.

Sienna knelt down behind her friend. “Can you stand?”

“Of course, I can stand. What happened to Mike?”

I bent down and pulled her up.

“What the hell!” Then her gaze focused on me. “Ah, the bodyguard,” she slurred. “I’ve heard you’re very good in bed, but I need to have a word with you.”

I glanced at Sienna.

She looked as if she wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

I slipped my arm around the back of her friend’s waist and began walking her out of the bar.

Sienna walked next to me.

The drunk woman’s head rested on my shoulder, with her ranting on about forbidden love and how I needed to man up and steal Sienna away from her fate of a loveless arranged marriage. Outside, I knew we were more vulnerable with her hanging on to me, but the coast looked clear and we made it to the car without incident. It was a relief to stuff her into the back of the car. Drunk women were not my thing. I grew up in a family where women were dignified and never drank to excess.

Sienna slipped in beside her, and I got into the driver’s seat and started on the journey back.

Once in a while, I snuck a glance at Sienna and every single time she would turn and meet my gaze through the reflection of the windscreen. I would then quickly return my eyes to the road. Not a single word was exchanged between us.

Her friend’s semi-conscious complaints however began to grow louder, then her arms began to flail in abject restlessness.

“Charlotte ...” Sienna called. “We’re almost home. Calm down.”

“I need to pee,” she muttered.

I kept my eyes on the road and left Sienna to deal with her.

“Just hang on. We’ll be back home in a while.”

“‘I can’t wait. I need to pee now,” she cried.

“Come on, Charlotte. You can hold it for a bit more.”

“I can’t I tell you. If you don’t stop, I’m going to pee in here,” her friend cried.

“Angelo?” Sienna said anxiously. “Can we stop somewhere for a few minutes? I’m so sorry about this.”

I didn’t want to stop on the side of the road and become sitting ducks to our enemies, but I didn’t want her friend using the car as a toilet. Even as I said the words I already knew this was a bad idea, but the words poured out and there wasn’t much I could do about them. “If she can hold on for five minutes my apartment is around the corner.”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” her friend screeched.

I stepped on the gas.

Chapter 34

Sienna

In the elevator, I’d been careful not to meet his eyes or show my astonishment that he was taking us to his place, but I was also glad. He’d acted so protective of his privacy I knew almost nothing about him. And I wanted to know more. Heck, I wanted to know everything about him.

The only thing I’d ever had from him was his lust. It should have been enough. We were just ships passing in the night—but it wasn’t enough. I hungered for him. Every night, I touched myself to get off, and it always left me feeling empty, haunted by the very vivid memory of what it’d felt like to be filled up by him.

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