Page 45 of The Forbidden Billionaire
I grit my teeth and shove him as hard as I can.
“And again, princess.”
That riles me up. This time there’s real feeling behind my push, and he stumbles back and laughs. “That’s more like it.”
“God, you’re frustrating.”
“Get used to it. If pissing you off is the only way to get you to react properly, I’m going to do it.”
“So you’re professionally annoying?”
“That’s about the sum of it, yeah. Come on, again.”
We practice another dozen times, and then he says that’ll do for the day, and it’s time to get on with our gym work. I go off to lift weights and run on the treadmill, but I have trouble concentrating. It’s impossible not to think about the hardness of his muscles. If he were any other guy, I’d be nervous about being alone with him, because I know I wouldn’t stand a chance if he decided to do something inappropriate. Oddly, I wasn’t nervous at all. He could overpower me without breaking a sweat, yet I never once felt unsafe with him.
Secretly, I’m also impressed by the fact that he knows all these moves. I thought he was someone Marcus hired because he was a friend and a big guy, more as a deterrent to would-be onlookers than anything else. I didn’t consider that he had real protection or defense training, but he clearly has.
One day, I’ll ask him about his time in the army. He might not tell me, though. He’s a very private guy. Even though we’ve been spending time together, I don’t really know anything about him, including what happened in the army. He said he wasn’t married and broke up with his girlfriend. I wonder what the story is there?
*
Ninety minutes later, I’m showered, dressed, and sitting in the car as Luke drives me to the office.
“I was thinking,” I say.
“Uh-oh.”
“You told me you broke up with your girlfriend a few months ago.”
He signals right and turns the car onto another road. “Yeah.”
“What was her name?”
“Penny.”
“Why did you break up?”
“Incompatibility.”
“Luke, come on, talk to me. I’m interested.”
“I’m sure you are, but I don’t like talking about it, if that’s all right.”
“Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest.”
He glances at me. “Not everyone feels that way. Some of us would rather keep private things exactly that—private.” He looks back at the road.
I stare out of the window and glower. I keep trying to make this relationship more personal, and he keeps pulling it back to professional.
“Don’t sulk,” he says.
“I was just trying to be friendly.”
“No, you weren’t. You were being nosy.”
“I’m interested,” I say softly. “I want to know more about you.” It’s a genuine statement. I like him. And I’m sure he likes me, too.
But he indicates and pulls into the underground car park. “Nothing interesting about me, ma’am. Just a guy trying to do his job.”
