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Giselle
Desperate people made desperate choices, and I fell into that category. I trusted no one, not after what I’d lived through. Donovan was certified vicious, and maybe Zayne had waltzed back into my life for a reason. Still, I couldn’t even begin to entertain that possibility unless he proved that he was an honorable man and on my side.
Zayne’s unreadable expression remained in place. My hands itched with a burning desire to slap it off him while anger brewed in the pit of my stomach. We’d only spent a few hours together, and he was already pushing my buttons.
Maybe he needed a little help responding to my question, because he heard what I’d said. “Speak softly when you answer. Although there aren’t any cameras in here, Donovan has ears everywhere.”
He stared straight through me. “Killing your brother isn’t in this job’s description.”
I shrank inwardly, fearful he might see past my careful veneer and into the dark recesses of my soul. My lips pursed, and my brain sifted through his words again, my attention clinging to what I was desperate to hear in what he said. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope that I could escape my hell. “Inthisjob’s description? So you’ve killed someone before?”
Without batting an eye, Zayne responded, “As a former Army Ranger, I’ve taken a few people out, but that’s beside the point. Murdering Donovan won’t happen.” The man folded his hands in front of him, his gaze unwavering from mine.
Infuriated with his response and lack of emotion, I paced the length of the room, my short heels clicking against the hardwood floors as I sifted through this new information. Zayne Wilson had a dark side; I could feel it in my bones. I just needed access to that part of him. But first, I had to ensure that I could trust him. Since my brother was technically Zayne’s client, I held very little say about his orders. Unless I could sway Zayne to honor my request, I was stuck.
If there was one thing I’d learned over the last few years, though, it was that the art of seduction held enormous power and I had it down to a science. I’d been trained to serve men in and out of the bedroom from an early age—Donovan had embraced the role as teacher, for sure. Other than dancing, it had been my only job, but I sure as hell couldn’t put it on a resume.
I turned my back to Zayne and seductively peeked over my shoulder in his direction. “Are you going to tell Donovan that I asked you to end his pathetic existence?”
Zayne shoved a hand in the pocket of his dark slacks, his green-eyed gaze never leaving my face. “Not unless you give me a reason to.”
“I won’t.” I’d just laid out a test for Zayne, hoping he would pass. If he mentioned my request to Donovan, I would undoubtedly find out. I rubbed my wrists, remembering the last time I’d pushed Donovan too far. The scars had faded, but my heart would never heal from his constant abuse.
I strolled across the dance floor, then pirouetted from one corner to the next. Dancing was my safe space, but I hadn’t allowed myself to let go and enjoy it since I’d moved in with Donovan a year ago. I had to remain on guard, watching Donovan’s every move. Maybe Zayne could offer a bit of protection against my evil brother. If I played my cards right, the odds might be in my favor. My anger and hatred for Zayne wouldn’t change, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t use him, too.
“Tell me about yourself.” Not only did I want to know who would be following me every minute of the day, it was important that I learned whether he was under Donovan’s thumb or not. The only break I would have from my new bodyguard was when I was with Donovan. Even though I despised Zayne for being here, I would take him over my brother any day. First, though, I had to crack his hard-ass exterior and force myself to try and get to know him. I shoved my intense dislike for him into a dark corner of my heart and sucked it up. I’d been forced to do much worse than try to win Zayne Wilson over for my benefit.
“Not much to tell.” Zayne rocked on his heels, then moved closer to the room’s entrance.
“Do you have any hobbies?” I leaned at a calculated angle against the ballet bar with my back to the mirrors, my gaze raking over his incredible body—dark blonde hair, broad shoulders, and muscular thighs and long legs shown off by slacks that hugged in all the right places. I rarely found myself attracted to someone, but Zayne was certainly sexy as hell. Hate sex might look damn good on him.
“Don’t have time.” He angled himself in the doorway and looked down the hall. “Is anyone else in the house besides us?”
My brows creased with his question. “Marty, our butler, and we have some additional staff, but that’s it. Why?”
“Just checking. Learning the layout and security processes that are in place,” he said without looking at me.
“Didn’t Donovan let you and Pierce know that others would be in the manor?” I crossed the room and joined him.
“Yes, but the footsteps I just heard didn’t belong to the man who answered the door. These sounded different. Possibly a small woman. They tend to take heavier steps.” His gaze darted from the hall to me. “Except you. You walk lightly, but I understand why now.”
I stared at him, unsure what to say, but it was apparent that Zayne paid excruciating attention to detail and his surroundings. Skirting around him, I peeked down the hall toward the foyer, but I didn’t hear anything. “Gretta is in the kitchen, and you haven’t met her yet. We have an alarm system, so it will beep if anyone enters or leaves the house. I wouldn’t worry too much about someone waltzing in unannounced.”
Zayne glanced down, his expression flickering with curiosity. “I never said I was concerned, but is that something you’re worried about?”
“I’m always—”
Zayne’s phone buzzed, and I took the opportunity not to answer as he stepped back.
“Sir?” Zayne’s deep voice rumbled from behind me.
I held in a sigh, then left the studio, realizing he was hot on my heels. Of course he was. I officially had a shadow, even in my own home. Irritation swept over me as I climbed the stairs.
“Understood.”
I looked over my shoulder as I entered my room, wishing I could slam the door in his face again, but I suppressed the urge. It wouldn’t get me anywhere.
“Giselle, you’re welcome to have some privacy, but first I have to search your bedroom and bathroom,” Zayne said.
