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“I wasn’t going to ask your permission. Besides, I know you probably have eyes on every corner of this building.”
“I knew where you went, yes. But the relationship between bodyguard and ward is built on trust, Bronte.”
“Meaning I trust you and remain silent while you make all the decisions without my input?” She slicked her wet hair back and twisted to wring the water from it.
He let out a growl. “I know you’re a smart woman, Bronte, but you’re being dim right now by not taking this threat seriously.”
“What threat? Nothing has happened yet. Nobody’s directly threatened me. I received a message that someone named The Broker wants to make a deal. And that driver might have been high or drunk or mentally disturb—”
“He wasn’t. He was hired by The Broker.”
His statement cut off her tirade.
She met his eyes, and he gave her a solemn nod.
“Dry off and we’ll talk.”
When he walked over to her robe and towel, left folded on a lounge chair, she couldn’t help but stare at him.
Okay, he was right. She hated that he was, but she wasn’t so stubborn that she couldn’t admit she was wrong.
He grabbed her towel and returned to her. She accepted the terrycloth like a peace offering and lifted it to her wet skin. Jace stood there watching for a heartbeat before spinning away. He strode to the lounge chair and sat sideways on it, elbows on his knees.
Bronte slowly approached and slipped on her robe.
Jace’s chest gave a heave but he didn’t look at her as she took a seat on the chair opposite him.
“I apologize,” she said quietly. “My parents raised me to be independent. I was taking the city bus by age fifteen, going to art exhibits and concerts alone. I started Artemis in the kitchen of my old apartment, staying up late at night to work on it before I forced myself to grab four or five hours of sleep to get through my day job as a low-level worker in another tech company.”
She peeked at his face. He was staring at the concrete between his boots.
“I’m sorry I didn’t take all this seriously, but I see now that I’m wrong.”
His gaze landed on hers, and he twisted his lips with genuine skepticism. “I’ve explained the rules and what needs to happen. I won’t insult you by explaining again. But I will ask you a second time—or maybe it’s the third?—if you’ll follow my lead in all things until this threat is neutralized and you can return to your life.”
“Is this where I solemnly pinky swear?” She crooked her little finger for him.
He snorted. “Let’s go back to the condo and after you get dressed, I’ll coach you on the meeting Kimmy set up.”
“About that.”
His brows shot up.
“I don’t exactly have time for a meeting right now. I have a trade show to get ready for. So much goes into just a few days at one of these things…” Her voice faded off as she saw his expression.
“Okay, okay. You’re right. Get the meeting with the dangerous guy over with first. Then I suppose I have to block out time to worry about my former partner sharing company secrets before I can reveal them at the trade show I spoke about.” She bobbed her head. “Yep—definitely a busy schedule this week.”
Jace let out a noise that bordered on a laugh. She eyed him, wondering if she’d smoothed things over enough to continue.
A thick pinky finger hooked in front of her face. With a sigh of relief, she wrapped hers around it. Their gazes locked. As she sank into those stormy gray depths, she finally figured out what Kimmy and her cat saw in the bodyguard.
He was a protector. He would do bodily harm to anyone who so much as looked at her wrong. Heck, he’d already killed to keep her safe.
ChapterSeven
“Let’s go over this one more time.”
Jace swore he heard Bronte roll her pretty brown eyes all the way from the passenger seat of the car.
