“Well,” he says, loosening his tie and collapsing onto his couch. “That was fucking exhausting.”
I stand by the door, unsure of my place here now. I’m not on duty, and I’m not his bodyguard tonight.
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” Wyatt continues, his head falling back against the cushions, exposing the long line of his throat. “I don’t think I could’ve handled another minute of Alyssa’s wounded gazelle routine.”
I move further into the apartment, stopping at the edge of the living area. “That was low of them. Ambushing you like that.”
Wyatt snorts. “Standard Kingsley operating procedure. Why have an honest conversation when you can orchestrate a trap?” He sits up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t have to be.”
Surprise flickers across his face at the protective edge in my voice. He pushes himself off the couch in one fluid motion. “Want some water?”
“Sure.”
He disappears into the kitchen, and I hear the refrigerator door open, then close. I take the opportunity to unbutton my collar, loosen my tie. The suit suddenly feels confining.
Wyatt returns with two bottles of water, condensation beading on the plastic. He hands one to me, our fingers brushing. The brief contact sends electricity up my arm, and I have to force myself not to chase it, not to grab his wrist and pull him against me.
“Thanks,” I say, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink.
We stand there drinking in silence, the space between us heavy with everything unsaid. I watch him over the rim of my bottle. His throat works as he swallows, his eyes darting to mine then away again. He’s nervous. I’m not used to seeing Wyatt Kingsley nervous. Usually, he’s all bravado and sharp edges, but something’s different tonight.
I wait. He has questions. I can see them building behind his eyes, but I won’t push. This needs to come from him.
Finally, he sets his water bottle down on the coffee table with a soft thud. “So. What did my father and Daniela want to talk to you about?”
I take another sip of water, buying myself a few seconds to organize my thoughts.
“Daniela’s leaving,” I say, watching his reaction.
“Leaving?” His eyebrows shoot up. “Why? Did something happen?”
“Her girlfriend got transferred to London for work. Daniela’s going with her.”
Wyatt processes this. “So Dad needed to talk to you about…what? Replacing her?”
“In a manner of speaking.” I set my own water down, suddenly needing my hands free. “He’s offering me Daniela’s position. Head of security for Kingsley Industries.”
His eyes widen. “Seriously? That’s—that’s a huge promotion.”
“It’s more than that,” I continue. “It’s not just bodyguards and physical security. It’s cybersecurity too. Daniela told your father about my background in that area from when I was in the military. He seemed particularly interested in that part.”
“Holy shit,” Wyatt says, and there’s genuine excitement in his voice. “Gray, that’s…that’s amazing.”
“It is.” I’m surprised by his reaction. No sarcasm, no bitterness. Just what appears to be sincere happiness for me.
“When would you start?”
“Two weeks. Daniela will train me on the specifics of your father’s operation before she leaves.”
Wyatt nods, a smile spreading across his face. “That’s a great opportunity. Dad doesn’t trust just anyone. You must have really impressed him.”
But even as he says it, something shifts in his expression. A cloud passing over the sun. His smile stays in place, but it no longer reaches his eyes. He’s realized what this means.
“So you wouldn’t be my bodyguard anymore.”
“No.” I hold his gaze. “I’d report directly to your father. I’d be overseeing the entire security apparatus, including whoever gets assigned to you.”
