Page 5 of Brooding Bodyguard Summer

Still, she is smart, resilient, and very aware that her mother died a brutal death. A death caused just because she was fool enough to marry Silas Lane. He’s not a bad man, not exactly. He won’t ever win a Nobel peace prize, that’s for damn sure. To his credit, his guilt over her death, over the threat his life poses to his daughter is obvious.

“How did you get to be so good living how you do?”

Noemi pauses, cocking her head as a stunning smile overtakes her face. “I pose the same question to you, Neko.”

“Oh, baby, nothing about me is good. My behavior earlier is prime example of that. I was wrong to get so close to you,” I whisper yet again.

I am saying it for me more than for her. Because she wanted me close to her. I am a decade older, wrecked by a painful past, damaged goods. She saw all of that but did not care. When she touched me…I almost went to my knees to pledge my soul to her. I have not been touched in years. Knowing she has never touched a man before…it is more tempting than it ought to be.

Noemi challenges me again, moving close. I groan when her tits brush against my chest as she peers up at me from beneath dark lashes. “Or did I get close to you? I believe I was the one doing the touching. You let me though, huh?” Her words turn raspier as she rubs her soft body against me, her hand brushing over my cock.

That traitorous dick has been hard for hours. From the moment I told her I would bring her here, to the market her father refused to allow her to go, and she gave me the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Watching her bounce around the shops in her little yellow dress, her perfect, round ass shaking as I watch has been torture. The best torture I’ve ever known.

“It was a mistake,” I growl even as I twist my hips so her hand cups my swollen shaft better.

“I might have never touched a man before,” she pushes closer to whisper her next words against my ear. “If you’re this hard for me, I do not think it was a mistake then or now. Or later when you let me touch you again.”

Then she spins on her high heels to go buy that beautiful crystal necklace that costs more than they pay the maid. I rein in my desire to smack her ass as it bounces. Fuck, I am so screwed. What has this woman done to me? Last night before I climbed that wall, I was a focused, functioning man smart enough not to get tangled up with my charges.

Now…now I want to be tangled up between her thick thighs.

Sudden movement to my six catches my attention. I cut through the crowd to get to Noemi. Panic rises in my chest, burning hot. I almost knock her over once I reach her. My hands grip her hips to haul her back against my chest, ignoring how out off protocol I am being.

“You need to stay where I can see you or this shopping trip is over, Noemi. Stop wandering off.”

“I was not wandering off. I walked ten paces from you. You were so far behind because you were admiring my ass,” she hisses as she turns her head to glare up at me.

Her mouth is pink, full, glossy with strawberry scented gloss she has applied no less than twelve times. I want to lick it off. I want to lick my tongue into her mouth and suck at hers. Want to shove mt tongue between the lips of her pussy and suck on her for days. I cannot do any of that, so I pull back slowly.

“No, I was doing my fucking job, Ms. Lane. Watching you is my job, remember. Nothing more or less.”

“Liar,” she hisses before she pushes my chest to spin away.

Yeah, I am a fucking liar. Because who the hell am I right now? Who the hell did I become the moment I saw this beautiful woman watching me from her window? I have been broken for years and yet…my pieces don’t feel so jagged or raw since I climbed in her window last night.

Sighing, I rush after her, eyes scanning the crowd again. I am not sure how real the threat is to her, I have not had time to call in Atlas for some recon. What I am sure of is what I promised: no other man will get close to her again. Not on my fucking watch.

Following her through the crowd, I watch her stop at each booth lining the cobbled streets. Sometimes she buys something. Others she just browses while she talks about art, about music, about the market itself. People fawn over her, they listen to her every word. It is clear she has no idea the affect she has on the world around her.

“Do you give them too much on purpose?” I whisper to her when she pushes a fifty in the hand of a young girl she is buying flowers from.

“Of course, I do. I have too much to give for it to matter, don’t I?”

Noemi turns to beam up at me, bouncing a shoulder. Her strap falls off her tan shoulder, so I reach out to fix it. Only, I let my touch linger too long. It’s the first time I have allowed myself to touch her since her bedroom earlier—not that I did the touching then.

Touching her is a goddamn mistake. Because once I start, I can’t stop. I let my fingertips trailing down her shoulder, tracing a dusting of freckles that resemble star constellations.

My touch drags down her arm, fingers circling her wrist. Noemi flips her wrist to tangle her fingers with mine.

The press of her palm against mine is soothing. Foreign. Grounding. I pull her close, so lost in the fog that I stepped into last night, I might never find my way out. I have never felt this way before. I am alert, awake, yet drunk on her floral scent, her sweet smiles, her little laughs. Fuck, the little giggles she makes as she chats with these people…its magic.

“Let me get you something,” she whispers, pulling me after her through the crowded market, towards a small booth on the end.

“No, I do not need anything. You got something for your entire staff. I am not on your staff, Ms. Lane.”

“Stop calling me that,” she whirls to stare me down, chin trembling. I am so stunned by the change in her I block the rest of the world out. I move to her, taking her hand again. Seeing her in distress is wholly uncomfortable for me. “My mother…they all called her that. Even though they were married, it was polite they said. I am not Ms. Lane.”

“No, you’re not. You’re Noemi. Calm down. Don’t draw attention we don’t need.”