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“My suitcase.” She gestures at it angrily. “Stupid thing won’t close.”
I frown, but chuckle at the same time. Why does this not surprise me? I should have predicted this, I really should have.
“Is that all? Why didn’t you just ask me calmly for help like a normal person would do, instead of screaming like you’re being attacked?”
The corners of her mouth twitch up just a tiny bit, before her posture stiffens and her hands fly to her hips in the perfect stance of indignation.
“Everything fit before!” she protests.
“That’s because I packed it.” I take a few steps closer to her suitcase. “Here, let me have a look.”
Jade stands far too close to me as I rearrange her belongings, tucking them firmly inside the suitcase and zipping it up. I try to ignore her too-close presence, but I can feel her breath on the back of my neck. Is she trying to gain the upper hand here? I straighten up and she backs off slightly, as I pick both her suitcases up, one in each hand, and march out to the car, Jade scurrying along behind.
I feel her stop, shocked. I hear her gasp.
“Is this ours?”
Her reaction to the sleek black Mercedes with tinted windows makes me smile. I’d been tempted to pay cash for some beat-up old Honda or something, but when I saw this on the hire company website, I couldn’t resist. I’m the driver, after all, and I’d much rather be driving this luxury sedan than a rust bucket that barely goes. Especially when the only reason I’d consideredgetting an old bomb in the first place was to teach Jade a lesson and bring her down a peg or two—it’s not like Andrew Owens can’t afford this. Richard specifically instructed me to spare no expense in keeping his precious princess happy and protected.
I nod. “Yep. Courtesy of Owens Productions.”
After stacking our luggage in the boot, I walk around to the passenger side and open the door wide, waiting for her to get in, but she stands there staring at me. Glaring.
“Nice of you to… oh. Oops.”
She obviously remembered that we drive on the left here, and I’m doing exactly what she just started to have a go at me for not doing, because her tone abruptly changes from sarcastic to apologetic. To rub it in, I smirk and sweep my hand dramatically, indicating for her to get in.
Asshole.Jade doesn’t say it, but I know she’s thinking it. Or she should be, anyway. She seems to bring out the worst in me. Never before have I taken such delight in winding a woman up. But Jade not only makes it easy, she makes it rewarding. Still, it’s unprofessional. I’m going to stop, I tell myself firmly.
“Are you driving?” she asks, sounding surprised.
It’s a redundant question, really. I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, after all. I glance across at her. “Yes. Is that a problem?” Part of me is expecting her to protest, the same way she’s protesting about everything else since I first met her, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shakes her head and smiles. Damn, she’s pretty when she smiles.
“No. I’m just not used to my bodyguard driving me around.”
I wink, and her smile widens. “Oh, I’m so much more than just a bodyguard, little girl. I’m your manager. Remember? About the only thing you’re allowed to do without my permission is breathe.”
Her smile disappears instantly, a scowl marring her pretty face instead. If she had tacks to spit at me right now, I’d be dodging, for sure.
“Asshole.” I’m not entirely certain whether she whispers the word or just mouths it, but it definitely passes her lips. I go to tell her off, then bite my tongue. She has a point.
“No,” she spits out bitterly. “I hadn’t forgotten. How could I?”
It’s obvious how she feels about this whole situation by her tone. She doesn’t try to hide her bitterness or frustration. I should feel sorry for her. I don’t.
I reach across and pat her knee, electricity crackling between us at the touch of my bare skin on hers. “Cheer up, Jade. Our time together could actually be quite pleasant, if you let it. How bad it is, is entirely up to you.”
“How can it possibly be pleasant when you’re controlling my every move?” she snarls, brushing my hand away.
I shrug. “Maybe it won’t be pleasant, I don’t know. But I know it can be bad. Very bad. The smarter your mouth is, the more your ass is going to hurt.” The corner of my mouth quirks up into the tiniest hint of a smile. She’s right: I am an asshole. But really, what does she expect? She’s a total brat. I’m being paid to rein her in. And if I can amuse myself at the same time, all the better.
“Yeah? When was the last time you had to ask permission to do absolutely everything?”
Does she not listen to anything I say? Or does she not know that being in the Army basically means following orders twenty-four/seven?
“I was in the army for sixteen years,” I remind her. “You’ve got it much easier than I did. Basic training in the middle of winter at Waiouru nearly did me in.” I shudder involuntarily at the memory. That first year was rough. Real rough. Rebellious, cocky little shit that I was, thought I was tough. I wasn’t half as tough as I thought I was. It didn’t take Sergeant Lance and his comrades long to break me.
“Why… what?” She struggles to repeat the Maori place name.
