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“There a problem, sir?”
“No. Just coming in to check out the terrain and reinforce security.”
“They’re safe, sir. We’ve got it covered.”
Apparently, they do.
He comes out of the bushes to my right, wearing dark, casual clothes, gun belt loose around his waist, no attempt made to hide it.
“Lindsay’s here,” he informs me.
“Where else would she be?” I bark.
“There was some question about whether she’d accompany her mother to New York for a charity event.”
“Oh.”
“Her mother declined. Said Lindsay’s not ready for it.”
I snort. “Monica’s PR people probably told her the numbers wouldn’t move in the positive direction.”
“I gathered as much.”
Gentian’s looking at Lindsay’s window, which is dark.
“No sign of those bastards or their operatives?”
“None.”
“You double-checked the backgrounds of all my men?”
“Yes. They’re clean.”
My bladder has been screaming for attention since mile three. I walk around a bush, void it, and come back to find him gone.
“Sir?” My earpiece crackles. “Change of the team for the new shift. If you need me, we can meet up again inside.”
“No. Go do the shift switch.” I stare at the pale grey glass, the nighttime sky reflected in her window, the sheer curtains behind it wispy, decorative nothingness. We’ve added thick curtains designed to help with gunshots. While the glass is bulletproof, it’s not perfect. I make a mental note to check on additional infrastructure issues we can upgrade on the house.
And then the curtains part, Lindsay appearing in the moonlight, wearing a gauzy nightgown, her hair down and loose around her shoulders.
My mouth goes dry.
My heart stops.
My body burns.
She’s looking out at the ocean, the waves gorgeous under the moonlight, the sound so soothing it’s a lullaby. I don’t look, instead taking the rare chance to observe her without her knowing. In profile, she’s ethereal, the long line of her straight nose leading to a full upper lip I’ve kissed a thousand times, and want to kiss a million more.
Her flowing blond hair tumbles down around her shoulders like it’s eager to caress her, as if it knows how privileged it is to be part of her body. She tucks a loose strand behind her ear and sighs, leaning against the window pane on her hands, blinking as she breathes slowly. Her eyebrows turn down and the worry lines appear on her face.
She’s too young to have worry lines like that.
I want to smooth them away.
It’s my job to protect her, but it’s my life’s mission to make her feel like she never needs to be protected. To make her feel so safe she never has to worry again.
As her forehead presses against the glass, she closes her eyes, long lashes resting softly against the fine bones of her cheeks. Lindsay is the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted. I’ve been with others, but that wasn’t real – it was just the momentary relief of not being alone. Fleeting and simple, it left me unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Wanting more, but always with someone else.
