by Sorcha Black
“Yeah. Where the hell have you been, anyway? Working? Honestly?”
“I know you read my texts.”
“I know you lie so you don’t have to hang out with me.”
“Oh, fuck off with the Catholic guilt thing. That didn’t work for Mom, and it sure as shit won’t work for you.”
“See?” Violet laughed. “This is what I need. Reality. People swearing at me when I’m being a dick. That fake professional shit I get from the staff here really gets on my nerves.” She opened one of the Cokes I’d brought along then sighed. “I never thought I’d get to the point where a visit from my asshole brother was the only thing I had to look forward to.”
“What do you want to do? I’ve offered to take you places, but you never want to go.”
“Being taken on an outing like a child isn’t my idea of fun.”
“We can do anything you want.”
“I want to go pick some guy up at the bar and have meaningless sex. Are you going to supervise that excursion?”
“Vi, you can date if you want to. No one is holding you back.”
“Yeah, because when they find out I need supervision that’ll be a huge turn-on.”
“If you weren’t such an ass, you could find someone, if that’s what you wanted.”
“Well, I was an ass to begin with, so that ship has probably sailed.” She grabbed a piece of the beef jerky she’d pretended she was too good for. “Besides, any guy who’d slum with me has some serious fucking issues.”
“You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny…”
“I’m a bitch. I accidentally set apartments on fire. I can’t drive anymore, or work, and sometimes I cry for no reason.”
“True. You do bring a lot to the table though. Find a rich guy you can boss around and you’ll be all set. I think you’d be happier out of here and doing real-life stuff if we can sort out a way to make it work.”
She sighed. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“Where are we going?”
“Take me to the mall. I want to see how the other half lives.”
“Do you want to walk or take my bike?”
“Oh my god, have you lost your fucking hearing? Walk, I said.”
I stood, stretching.
“How’s the job?”
“Shitty. Aren’t all jobs shitty?”
“I don’t really remember, but thanks for bringing up such a painful subject.” She got up too. I’d feel like an asshole, but I could tell she was yanking my chain. I moved to get her coat then stopped and waited for her to do it herself. She’d smacked me enough times that I remembered now. She still limped, but it was almost impossible to see unless I was looking for it.
“Stop assessing the progress of my physio, you ugly bastard.”
“If I’m a bastard, doesn’t that make you one too? And calling your twin ugly seems like a double-edged sword.”
“True. Thank god we look nothing alike.” She pulled on her coat with a stiffness that hurt me as though the damage had been done to my body, instead. If it had, it would have hurt me less. “At least I’ve got that going for me.”
Chapter Five
The sun was beautiful after so many days of rain. I was sick of watching television—sick of knitting. As soon as the sun came out after lunch, I was taking the stairs to my room two at a time so I could change into my swimsuit.
“Is something on fire, Miss Kincaid?” Mr. Köhler asked dryly, managing to keep up without sounding winded. Because of his sheer size, the man should have been a lot slower moving.
“Are you suggesting I should use a more sedate, ladylike pace?” I asked, almost hearing Mother’s censure in my head even though she was still overseas, as far as I knew.
“Not at all. If you want to start a jogging regimen, I could probably use the cardio.”
“Hell no. No jogging,” I said, laughing. “I’m excited it stopped raining, so I’m going for a swim.”
“A swim? You haven’t used the pool since I’ve been here.”
“That’s because I usually get nagged about the damage chlorine does to my hair, or about how I’m going to get sunburned.”
“Your mother?”
“Of course. I’m not sure why we maintain a pool no one uses, but when the cat’s away…”
He huffed a laugh. “You get to take a swim on the wild side?”
“Precisely.”
Mr. Köhler followed me into my room, and I went to my dresser to look for my swimsuits. One of the maids had reorganized my drawers a few weeks before, and I wasn’t sure where anything was other than my underwear and bras.
I went from drawer to drawer, but it wasn’t until I found the small stash of spandex that I remembered how dowdy my bathing suits were. Mother called them tasteful, but they looked like I was on a middle school swim team rather than being a twenty-something hanging out by the pool for the afternoon.
“Do you have swim shorts?” I chose the second-newest one I owned, which looked goodish on and wasn’t practically transparent from chlorine damage. It also showed a bit of cleavage, and I was hoping to shift the man’s eyes to my chest and away from my bean pole figure.
He had been nothing but a gentleman since he’d returned from his day off, and I was over it.
“No.”
“How are you going to swim if you don’t have swim shorts?” I demanded. As a joke, I thought about suggesting we skinny-dip, but he had shut down all of my attempts at flirting lately, and I wasn’t sure I dared to be quite so bold.
“I can’t cavort in a pool and guard you at the same time.”
“How does a person cavort? Maybe you could demonstrate?” Okay, that was subtle enough flirtation to not freak him out, right? I grinned at him, and his eyes glinted with…something.
“You want me to show you how?” he asked, deadpan. “I’m not sure I’m wearing the right shoes for that.”
“And way too much clothing, I think.” I smirked then went into the bathroom to change. Doing it in front of him might have been fun, to see if I could get a rise out of him, but I would have needed a few drinks first.
I changed into my swimsuit and twisted my hair into a messy knot on top of my head with a few tendrils hanging down to tickle at my cleavage. After a brief internal debate, I tied a beach cover-up skirt around my waist. The outfit still showed a lot of skin, but I stared at myself in the full-length mirror behind the door and gave myself a silent pep talk. I wasn’t used to hanging out at the pool with a hot guy, and what I was wearing seemed important.
I strode out of the bathroom as though being half-naked around him was no big deal.
He was in the middle of getting up from his chair when he caught sight of me, and he sort of froze halfway to his feet, his gaze taking me in from head to toe.
“That’s what you’re going to wear?”
“People generally wear bathing suits when they go swimming.”
He swallowed and straightened, smoothing down his tie. His eyes didn’t stop roving over my bared skin until he caught himself and jerked his attention away.
“Ready?”
“You’re not going to change?” I asked again.
“This is my uniform.”
“You could take off your jacket at least. Roll up your sleeves?”
“That would hardly be professional, Miss.”
“Mother isn’t even here. Who’s going to tell on you?”
“Following the rules even when no one is watching is how a good employee keeps their job.”
I moved closer, and he watched me as though I were a grenade with the pin out.
“Just how good of an employee are you?” I asked, feeling an impish smile spread across my face. I wasn’t sure what it was about him that made me act like this. Maybe it was the way he reacted.
“I do my best,” his voice was more a rumble rather than proper speech.
When I was close enough, I tapped his chest. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
He snorted. �
�How can you say I’m avoiding you when we spend twelve to eighteen hours a day together?”
“You’re not treating me the same way you were before.”
“I’m trying to keep things professional.”
I raised my brow at him. “Is that what you really want?”
“That’s how it’s going to be.”
“Or?”
“Or else.”
“Or else what?”
His nostrils flared. Could he smell how aroused I was? Hopefully not.
My nipples were tight, and the spandex top of my swimsuit couldn’t be leaving much to the imagination.
I stepped back from him and walked away to grab my beach towel and sunscreen from the closet.
Behind me, I heard him make a sound—sort of a cross between a grumble and a sigh.
“Let’s go then, weirdo,” I said, heading out of my room. “Come fry in the sun in your black suit.”
Barefoot, I padded through the house with Mr. Köhler on my heels. For a man who was supposed to be unobtrusive, he was doing a lot of seething that I could feel even with my back to him. I walked with a bit more sway in my hips and wondered if he was fantasizing about spanking me as much as I was fantasizing about being spanked.
He had such big, rough, scarred hands. I missed feeling them, even in the casual way he used to touch me.
When we got out to the pool, I dropped my towel on my favorite lounge chair. There were cameras out here, but would grounds security seriously snitch on us to Mother if they caught us fooling around?
Mr. Köhler had taken up a position nearby, standing rather than sitting, his dark eyes glittering and alert and definitely not on me.
Ugh.
Okay, it was good he was doing his job, but what were the chances someone would be on the grounds in broad daylight when there were two security guards with dogs wandering around?
I took off my wrap skirt then leaned down to pick up the bottle of sunscreen, making sure to bend at the waist instead of the knees. One of the women in the last book I’d read had done that and it made the man she was interested in absolutely wild.
Behind me, Mr. Köhler grunted. I peeked at him from under my arm before I stood up, and he was one hundred percent staring at my backside.
Pretending to ignore him, I rubbed sunscreen into my arms and shoulders, then put a foot on a low table and did one leg, then the other. He was grumbling to himself again, but what was I supposed to do? Let the sun burn my skin the same shade as my hair?
I did my face next, which I hated, then turned around and walked over to Mr. Köhler, bottle in hand.
“Can you do my back?”
He looked like he was struggling not to say something he dearly wanted to say as he took the bottle from me. I’d expected more of a fight.
I turned my back to him and tugged down the straps of my bathing suit, holding it up in the front with my arm.
“What are you doing?” he demanded with gruff suspiciousness.
“I’m getting the straps out of the way so you can do my back,” I said as though he was being ridiculous and I wasn’t deliberately trying to make him squirrelly. “Just be grateful I’ve decided not to skinny-dip today or you’d have extra work to do.”
His breath tickled the top of my ear, and I had the weird urge to tip my head to the side and show him my neck, but I stayed still as he spread the lotion over my bare back. His touch was impersonal, but having someone touching my back at all felt very intimate. I’d never gone for a massage before, which was apparently a good thing because if my body reacted like this, then how embarrassing would that be? His hand dipped to my lower back, and I couldn’t help but arch and whimper.
“Miss Kincaid, you’re not supposed to enjoy this.” His touch had gone from impersonal to soothing. He’d put down the sunscreen bottle and his thumbs were working at knots in my shoulders I hadn’t realized existed.
I groaned, not caring that it sounded sexual, and my head tipped forward to give him better access. My nipples were so hard they ached.
“Did you study to be a massage therapist or something?” I mumbled, my brain feeling slow and mushy.
He chuckled and ran his thumbs up the back of my neck. I whimpered again, wanting his strong hands in other, more interesting places, but also thoroughly enjoying this. Too bad he wasn’t going to put on swim shorts because I would have loved to rub sunscreen into his deliciously hard body.
“Such a responsive little thing,” he whispered more to himself than to me. It was a good thing he wasn’t expecting an answer because I wasn’t sure I could have strung a coherent sentence together anymore.
By the time he stopped and stepped away from me, I was a needy mess.
“Be good, Miss Kincaid.”
“Yes, sir.” I meant to go back to my chair, but he stopped me and handed me the sunscreen bottle from the ledge he’d perched it on. He was looking at me very earnestly. “What?”
“Don’t call me sir.”
Oh god, had I?
“I—I didn’t,” I tried to snap, but the words came out breathy and small.
“Didn’t you?” His eyes held a gentle amusement, and I felt my face heating.
Could I die now and melt onto the pool deck?
I had to turn this into a joke, and fast.
“You melted my brain. Just be glad I didn’t call you Daddy.” I laughed.
He stepped back and his brows lowered in disapproval.
Yummy.
I didn’t sigh, but I was sighing on the inside.
After I spread my towel out on my chair, I went to the outdoor stereo and turned it on. I’d left it on an oldies station, and the boppy ‘80s tune that blared out made me feel like we were in a rom-com.
“Not so loud,” he admonished. God, he still looked so grumpy. Was it the Daddy crack I’d made?
I shot him an amused look.
“Yes, Daddy. Sorry, Daddy,” I couldn’t resist saying. “I should have remembered old men don’t like loud music.”
He scowled. “I have to be able to hear if something is wrong.”
“Two men are patrolling the grounds. I think you can relax a little.”
“It’s my job to keep you safe, Miss. You’re mine to take care of—I’m not going to leave that responsibility to any other man.”
I shivered.
I’d like him to take care of me, all right.
While I waited for my sunscreen to absorb, I did some stretches then read a few pages on my e-reader. Mr. Köhler had to be baking in his black suit.
“You could take off your jacket at least.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes. Yes, you are,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Thinking out loud.” I jumped into the deep end of the pool to avoid any more questions on the subject. I swam for a while, aware Mr. Köhler’s attention was shifting from the surrounding area, to me, and back again. When I climbed out, he handed me my towel as though he was my maid rather than my bodyguard. I hadn’t even seen him pick it up off my chair.
“Thanks.” I dried off, aware of his attention on my every movement. “Mr. Köhler, am I toweling off wrong or something?”
His gaze shifted away from me. “No, Miss.”
“Because if you have any suggestions…”
“None.”
I dragged a corner of the towel between my breasts, trying to make it look sexy.
“Behave.”
I sighed and spread my towel out on my chaise again, then stretched out on top of it. I put on my sunglasses, more than happy to use them as a shield so I could watch him covertly out of the corner of my eye.
“Tell me if I start getting too red.”
His gaze flicked to me, lingering, sliding over my skin before he looked away. “I’m supposed to be guarding you against people, Miss, not from the sun.”
“A full-service bodyguard could do both.”
“I guess it depends on how you define
full service.”
“Is there a happy ending bodyguard? Because I want you to be one of those,” I muttered.
“What?”
“What?”
“I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Thinking out loud again.”
“If you have something to say, speak up. It’s rude to say things under your breath,” he grumbled. “You’re not a child.”
“No, I’m not.”
He sighed, but went back to keeping an eye out instead of looking like he’d gladly strangle me.
Despite my awareness of his presence and my scanty attire, the sun’s warmth gradually lulled me into a doze.
A loud bang woke me. Before my eyes were fully opened, I was put on my feet and hustled into the shade of the house. There was a corner near where I’d been sitting, and Mr. Köhler pressed me into it, shielding me with his big body. His gun was out and his head was swinging back and forth as he looked for the invisible, potential threat.
“Are you hit?” he barked.
“No.” The word shook as it left my mouth. My heart was hammering in my ears.
What the hell was going on?
Would kidnappers honestly try to shoot me in the middle of the day? It seemed unlikely.
“What was that?” I asked, trying to peek around him.
“Shh. Stay behind me.”
That wouldn’t be a problem, considering our size difference.
“That noise could have been anything.” I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to convince. Waiting like this was nerve-racking. Apprehension knotted in my chest.
“Yes.”
“Maybe it was a car backfiring.”
“It wasn’t. Now shush.”
We waited in breathless silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Mr. Köhler pulled out his phone and made a few calls to the grounds guards.
“People are trying to kidnap me, not shoot me,” I reminded him. I rested my forehead against his back. It was hard to stay afraid when nothing was happening. I inhaled the scent of him, wondering if I could get away with sliding a hand up under the back of his suit jacket to feel the muscle there.
The brick I was pressed against kept pulling at the fabric of my bathing suit and scraping my skin when I moved.