Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5)

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Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5) Page 71

by Layla Valentine


  Feeling my body go stiff, I considered the implications of his words. I had known that there could only be one real reason that the United States government would pull me out of Guam. As much as I’d have liked to think it was just an act of kindness, I knew that the FBI had been seeking out my father for some time now.

  “So…from one cage to another, then?” I asked wearily, and he exhaled a sigh in response.

  “If you comply, you might be placed in a witness protection program or something similar. I don’t imagine they plan to keep you locked away, after all; you’ve not broken any laws…have you?” Owen asked hesitantly.

  “Would it make any difference? What would you think of me, then? It’s not like you could think less of me than you already do,” I said coldly.

  He reached over to rest a hand on my shoulder, and I tried not to flinch under his touch. As much as I enjoyed the sensation of his hands on me, I hated the idea that his mission was to get me to betray my father.

  “I don’t think badly of you, Emily. I think you’re a good person who got wrapped up in a bad situation. It’s not your fault. Your father has committed a number of crimes, and, well…things like that don’t go unpunished forever,” he said carefully.

  I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the ache in my heart. I had been so excited to get away from my father’s grasp, I didn’t stop to think how it might affect the only family that I had left. I didn’t want to hurt my father. I didn’t want to see him jailed.

  “He just…he needs help. He’s not a bad person,” I mumbled.

  Owen kept quiet, and I took that as a cue to quiet down as well. A single tear rolled down my cheek at the thought of turning my back on the only person who cared about me, but there was nothing to be done from that point forward.

  “I believe you. Grief does crazy things to a person. He’ll get the help he needs in prison. He won’t be able to just run away from his problems. It’s not exactly the ideal situation, but would you rather he continue down this path forever?” he murmured.

  I sniffled, trying to obscure my tears in spite of the truth in his words.

  “Try and get some sleep. I’ll wake you once we land in California. You’ll like adjusting to life in the States again, I’m sure of it,” he said with forced cheerfulness.

  As much as I doubted my ability to ‘adjust’, as he so claimed, I didn’t argue. There wasn’t any point. My decision had been made, and I had to stick with it. Not that I’d had much of a choice to begin with.

  Chapter 11

  Emily

  I woke when I felt a gentle nudging to my shoulder. I sighed softly, not sure if I wanted the whole situation to be a dream or otherwise. I sat upright, glancing at Owen with a frown. We had landed.

  He hopped out of the cockpit and circled around to help me down. I appreciated the effort, and his hand lingered on mine longer than was strictly necessary. He looked troubled, and I almost wondered if he was actually worried about me. Not that it would make any sense, but the smile he offered had my pulse quickening.

  “So…California, huh?” I observed.

  He nodded, guiding me away from the plane and towards a SUV that just so happened to be waiting for us. I groaned at the sight of the vehicle, getting sick of the whole traveling thing.

  “Can I at least stretch my legs first? I’m so stiff,” I whined, reaching out to touch his arm.

  “You’re stretching your legs now,” he said dismissively.

  I pouted pointedly as he began shoving our bags in the trunk of the vehicle, whistling a jaunty tune. It was as if he enjoyed pushing my buttons, like he got some sort of thrill out of the situation. Maybe he did. I smiled at the thought in spite of myself.

  “You’re an ass,” I declared, bouncing on my heels beside him.

  He chuckled, and I counted myself fortunate that he didn’t seem to be intent upon keeping up the frigid act.

  “Am I at least an attractive ass? Not flat or too flabby?” he threw back at me, and I blushed, much to my chagrin. “Come on, you’re the one passing judgments here. Be brutal,” he continued, meeting my gaze daringly.

  “You have a great ass,” I blurted out, cheeks burning as I quickly amended the statement. “You are a great ass! A great big ass,” I spluttered.

  He watched me with an amused expression, his eyes twinkling.

  “Thanks…I think,” he settled on, gesturing towards the passenger side door.

  I cursed under my breath, internally berating myself for being so transparent. I slid into the seat, slamming the door shut and crossing my arms sourly. As he got in, he considered me for a moment before breaking out in another large grin.

  “You’re a great ass too,” he teased.

  I stared, reddening when I understood the implications.

  “Thanks,” I said shyly, not quite sure how else to reply.

  We fell into a relatively companionable silence, the music from the radio filling the empty airspace in the car. I tried to keep from staring at him, but mostly just managed to keep myself content with glancing at him every twelve seconds. I was on the third second when he reached out to turn the radio down, and I turned look at him.

  “So, are you feeling any better? I know things aren’t exactly ideal, but I’d rather you talk to me than shove it all down,” he said gently.

  I smiled sincerely, touched by the fact that he seemed to care. I tried to keep reminding myself that he was just ensuring that the job went as planned, but at least he was pretending to be worried about me. That was something, wasn’t it?

  “Careful, Owen, I might start to think you actually have a heart,” I teased, and he rolled his eyes at the jab.

  I gave pause for a moment, thinking as I watched the gentle curve of his lips.

  “You know, I kinda figured Owen was a name you made up on the spot. Didn’t really seem that conductive to your mission to tell me your real name, you know? So I was just curious as to—” I paused, cutting myself short as he laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” I demanded.

  “It’s just…I totally blanked when you asked my name. The name I gave you is my real, actual name. Kinda dumb, right?” he said, sounding almost bashful.

  I smiled, unable to obscure my amusement.

  “Really dumb. What’s even dumber is that you could have made up something just now, and I would have been none the wiser,” I giggled.

  He blushed faintly, having a laugh at himself as well.

  “Well, what can I say? Nothing like a pretty face to loosen your tongue,” he said.

  “Especially when you steal that pretty face’s first kiss, I guess,” I teased.

  He huffed, looking as if he were considering turning the radio up to drown me out again. If he thought about it, he seemed to think better of it, returning his hand to the steering wheel.

  “You liked it. Sure, the circumstances could have been better—” he began, only for me to cut him short.

  “You kissed me as a diversion in the middle of kidnapping me. How could you get more romantic than that?” I asked sarcastically.

  He snorted, shrugging a little.

  “No, but I guess you’re right. It was the best kiss I’ve ever had. But don’t let it go to your head,” I said more gently.

  “I’m the only kiss you’ve ever had, so I won’t get an ego over that. I’m just warning you that it’s all downhill from here,” he said confidently.

  Seemed Owen didn’t exactly need an ego boost. I wasn’t positive I could consider the conversation without turning into a stammering and blushing mess.

  “So, where were you born?” I asked, changing the subject in hopes of making my blush go away.

  “I’m from a small town in West Virginia that you’ve probably never heard of. I joined the military as soon as I turned eighteen, just to get out of the place. My dad wasn’t happy, but my dad really wasn’t happy with most things I did,” he said, and though one might have expected those words to be spoken with some measure of sadness, there
was only disdain in Owen’s voice.

  I hummed, acknowledging him while I thought over his answer.

  “So, have you not seen your parents since you were eighteen? How old are you now, like, thirty?” I asked.

  His eyes widened and I realized I’d offended him as his hands tightened around the steering wheel.

  “I’m sorry if it’s a touchy subject; I was just curious,” I offered, and he growled.

  “You think I look thirty?! I’ll have you know I’m 27, and a young 27 at that. I go through great lengths to maintain my physique, and I just—” he paused as I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach.

  He frowned for a moment, but then his annoyance seemed to fade and he began to chuckle as well.

  “Okay, I guess that was a bit over the top. Your diva-ness is rubbing off on me,” he sighed.

  I refrained from telling him the other parts that wanted to rub off on him. It was at that moment that I realized I was beginning to fall for this tough-as-nails yet simultaneously sweet and funny guy. I wasn’t sure if it was the most idiotic thing I’d ever done, but the whole situation was probably ranking pretty high on the idiot scale anyway.

  Not only had I run away from everything I knew and loved, I would also have to throw my father to the wolves if I wanted any lenience. It seemed as if developing a crush on the man who’d kidnapped me was the only reasonable next step with all the ridiculous choices I’d been making.

  Realizing that I’d gone quiet for too long, I blushed at his mildly inquisitive expression. Averting my eyes, I tried to think of a way to break the silence. It wasn’t as if I could just casually tell him that I was sorry for checking out mentally, I had just been too busy thinking about how big he probably was under those pants. The thought came unbidden, and I felt my breath catch and pulse quicken.

  “What are you thinking about, drama mama?” he asked jokingly, an almost knowing look in his eye.

  I squirmed uncomfortably, refusing to meet his eye. I was being ridiculous; God only knew how many women he had been with. What on earth would he see in a silly little virgin with a schoolgirl crush? Not to mention the fact that it would probably jeopardize his mission…how hopeless could a girl possibly be?

  “Oh, just…thinking about how exciting this whole experience has been, I guess,” I managed, smiling sheepishly.

  He nodded, taking the answer at face value from what I could tell.

  “I can imagine that it’s a lot to take in,” he said gently.

  “I’m ready to take in so much more,” I blurted, internally cringing and trying to think of a way to amend that very telling statement.

  He simply nodded along, apparently oblivious to my dilemma. Thank God.

  “So, we’re on the way to the safe house, now? Where is it, exactly? California’s a pretty big state,” I stammered, feeling somewhat safe in the knowledge that my little slip had gone unnoticed.

  “It’s nothing extravagant like you’re used to. Your apartment was ritzy as hell; this is just some little run-down dump. It’s inconspicuous, but that’s about all it has going for it,” he said derisively.

  In spite of how poorly he spoke about the place, the excitement I felt was undeniable. I was actually going back out into the real world, the world I’d never had the chance to know under my father’s control.

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said casually, avoiding revealing just how thrilled I was. I didn’t want Owen to think I was a fool, and I was sure he wouldn’t have much sympathy for my spoiled lifestyle.

  “Well, maybe it just needs a feminine touch to liven up the place,” he suggested, smiling.

  I giggled, picturing myself and the handsome man at my side, living in domestic bliss. A white picket fence, two kids, a dog…I wasn’t used to feeling so strongly about someone, but I hadn’t exactly had many opportunities to meet people in the past. Anyone who got close to me had been scared off by my father.

  It would have been ideal to dismiss my feelings as a desperate attempt to cling to the person who had swept me away. It seemed to make sense that I might develop a bit of a crush on the first person who had been brave enough to actually sweep me off my feet. He hadn’t done it purposely, and I knew if he’d been aware of my feelings, he would have only tried to put distance between us.

  I should have just forced myself to believe it was a meaningless crush, but somehow, deep in my heart, I knew it was deeper than that. I was developing feelings for Owen Caldwell—my kidnapper, or my savior?

  Wow, I was in more trouble than I thought.

  Chapter 12

  Owen

  Pulling the car into the parking lot of the unassuming apartment complex, I cut the engine and remained in the driver’s seat for a moment. Emily looked all too enthused about the cruddy little building, and I felt a pit of dread forming in my stomach. I didn’t want her trip to the States to be disappointing, but it wasn’t really supposed to be my priority to show her a good time.

  She fidgeted at my side, and I breathed a sigh before unfastening my seatbelt and stepping out of the car. She was quick to follow, lurching out of the passenger side of the SUV with a grin on her face.

  “This is the place?” she asked, much more exuberant than the situation called for.

  I offered her a smile, circling around the car to offer her my arm.

  “Yep, this is it. Home sweet home, for a while,” I said carefully.

  She squealed with delight, all but dragging me towards the front entrance of the building. I tried to refrain from laughing, internally cringing at how open I’d been with the girl. She was my prisoner when it came down to it, and I was slowly realizing that the fantasies I’d been having about her would have to remain just that.

  I’d not intended to take her first kiss, and for all the banter we’d lobbed back and forth about it, I felt immeasurably guilty.

  “What are you waiting for? I have no idea where I’m going; lead the way,” she eagerly requested—well, more like demanded.

  I shook off my negative thoughts, focusing on leading my cheery captive to her new cage, as it were. We strode arm in arm through the complex, with Emily oohing and ahhing somewhat strangely every time we passed something of interest.

  “All right, this should be it,” I laughed, unlocking the door and pushing my way inside.

  Emily nearly bowled me over trying to get past me to get a look at the interior. Once inside, she stood in the middle of the small living area, examining the room with an intent expression.

  “Is it everything you hoped for?” I asked, prepared for her disappointed pout or disgust-wrinkled nose.

  “It’s quaint! It’s perfect,” she sighed dreamily, walking towards the ripped sofa and sitting delicately on the middle cushion.

  “This is the most uncomfortable sofa I’ve ever sat on,” she said, as if it were the happiest experience of her life. “Can you believe it? The floor of my old apartment was more comfortable than this,” she continued, patting the seat next to her.

  I might have found her actions borderline insane if I didn’t know how sheltered her life had been prior to that moment. As it stood, I resigned myself to sitting in squalor beside her.

  “There’s a spring poking my ass,” I declared, and she laughed, winking slyly at me.

  “Wanna switch? I could use a good poke,” she all but purred, and I outright guffawed in response.

  “Easy, tiger. You gotta learn to walk before signing up for a marathon,” I said, feeling a bit flustered at the expression she was facing me with.

  It looked as if she would like nothing more than to eat me alive, and I realized I would have to rein the situation in a bit. As much as I’d have liked to screw her on that sad excuse for a sofa, I had to keep the mission in mind. Strange how all I’d fantasized about was essentially being spread before me, but I was forced to resist for the sake of my job. For her sake, as well, truth be told.

  As much as I lusted for the girl, I was certain that she was too innocent to take a one-
night stand at face value. Especially when we’d be forced to stay together until I turned her in to the FBI.

  “So, about that poking…” she began, and I swallowed a retort, instead rising from the sofa and gesturing to my seat.

  “Help yourself. I’m going to make some dinner for the two of us. Just don’t expect anything too fancy; I don’t know when the last time they stocked this place was,” I said in a rush, walking briskly into the kitchenette.

  There weren’t too many amenities in the place, but as I rummaged through the cabinets, I figured I could throw together a pot of mac and cheese. It was just the boxed junk that kids love, but I had to admit it was a guilty pleasure of mine. If I couldn’t enjoy one guilty pleasure, all the better to replace it with something a bit more acceptable.

  “Do you need any help?” Emily asked from the entry to the kitchen, leaning across the bar that partially separated it from the living room.

  I forced my eyes away from her breasts, which she seemed so keen on having displayed. I wasn’t a fool by any means; I knew when someone was trying to seduce me. It was simply a matter of resisting her charms, and thank God that I was a stronger man than most. She certainly knew how to work what charms she had, and it was all I could do not to sweep her up in another stolen kiss.

  “No, I’ve got it. You can come and sit, though. It shouldn’t take long,” I offered, pouring the noodles into the pot to boil.

  She watched with obvious fascination, blessedly distracted from her innocent little surge of hormones for the time being. Her eyes were alight with delight, and I tried to ignore the little tingles of arousal rushing through me. She was so adorable it almost felt sinful to be so attracted to her. I managed to get it under control, focusing on the task of cooking.

  Draining the excess water from the noodles, I poured in the powdery cheese sauce and stirred dutifully. The smell was tantalizing, even if the visual probably wasn’t nearly as extravagant as she was used to. I grabbed two bowls from the cupboard, scooping a heaping helping of macaroni into each of them.

 

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