Dealing with this bodyguard is proof enough of how out of my element I am in this scenario. At least she’s agreeable to my proposal. Once I’m on the plane, I won’t have to give it another thought.
Give my bodyguard another thought…
I lift my phone a little higher so I can study her without her noticing. She’s sitting across from me, constantly watching either me or what’s going on around us. I feel like I’m an ant in an ant farm, constantly under observation. The analogy even makes my skin crawl.
Though I will say Lily is madfit—our British term for ‘hot’—for a bodyguard. I don’t know exactly what I expected, but not this. With her light honey-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, she appears younger. But that could be the light dusting of freckles covering her high cheekbones, which tells me she spends time outside. I could easily mistake her for a college student except for her attire, which seems more in line with a business executive.
She may be sitting, but my experience as a hockey player has taught me to be sensitive to a body about to change position or direction. As a forward, that’s part of my job, so I can predict the best avenue to score a goal. And Lily is poised to move at a moment’s notice, so that tells me she’s athletic as well—another feature I find very attractive. Most of the very few women I’ve dated wanted nothing to do with the outdoors or any physical activity at all in some cases.
The flight attendant announces boarding is to begin, and since I’m flying first class, I rise and head toward the door. Lily follows close behind, still doing her job. Once I’m on the plane, I can relax for the duration of my flight without those hazel-green eyes watching me and everything around me. I’m still convinced my cousin’s tendency for recklessness was his demise and therefore there’s no credible threat to me. However, if I needed a bodyguard, I’m not sure I’d want one so breathtaking.
“Welcome aboard.” The attendant smiles at me as I hold my phone out for her to scan my ticket.
As I look over my shoulder to nod my thanks to Lily, the attendant scans her phone.
I step to the side and face her. “What are you?—”
Lily wraps her hand around my arm just above my elbow and, in one swift and impressive move, turns and propels me forward. “Let’s not draw attention.”
Once we get about twenty feet down the walkway to the plane, I stop and pull her aside, careful to keep my voice at a whisper. “What are you doing?”
Her gaze unwavering, she leans in and whispers, “My job.”
“But you agreed to my proposal.”
She waits for several people to pass by. “Actually, I didn’t. I shook my head.”
“But you said, ‘We’d best get you toyourgate.’ Meaning my gate.”
“Yes, your gate. And that’s whereweare.”
I don’t miss her implication or how she’s handling me. A steady stream of travelers are now heading our way, inspiring a Hail Mary plan I’m begging the universe to let work. “Just go back and tell them you’re sick or have a sudden family emergency.”
Since timingismy strong suit, I launch myself in front of the latest pack of boarders, creating a barrier between Lily and me. Once on the plane, I stow my duffel and sit, watching the front to see if my bodyguard has decided I’m not worth the trouble or if she’s as tenacious as I’m beginning to suspect.
After several people board and pass by, I pull out my phone and begin reading the book I started last night, doing my best to pretend that the movement next to me isn’t Lily settling into her seat.
The small privacy door between the seats slides open. “Did you really think that would work?”
I exhale in resignation before lifting my head in her direction. Sunlight streaming through the tiny windows to my left highlights her hazel green eyes, making her irises appear almost backlit. The effect is captivating. “I’d hoped.”
If that were true, then why do I feel somewhat pleased she didn’t bail on me?
She leans forward, ruffling in her backpack, then sits back with a notebook and pen in her hands, which she promptly opens. “I made a list of things to cover so we can get our nuptials story down. The closer we keep to the truth, the better.”
“Is this really necessary?” I probably sound like one of the petulant toddlers my sister used to treat, but I can’t help it. I’m scrambling for some way to get out of this before I return to mynormallife in Sarabella. When I threw the idea out about a female bodyguard, I honestly didn’t expect Emalia to take me seriously.
She blinks at me. “Which part? Creating abelievable story to keep your friends and teammates from knowing who you really are while I protect you? Or your continuous objections that are wasting valuable time and energy? Mostly mine.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” This woman clearly doesn’t like to be trifled with. I file that away, enjoying her forthrightness.
“Then let me rephrase. Let me do my job, Payton. That way, you can continue to do yours. That’s the crux of this, isn’t it?”
As much as I don’t want to admit, she’s right. I want to get back to the life I’ve worked hard to create outside of my family ties and responsibilities in England. Never mind that my sister outplayed me, which she’s always excelled at.
“Fine. Let’s get on with it. What’s our story?”
An almost smug expression tilts her lips, which I find myself looking at more than I should. She’s the enigma I never expected, that’s for sure.
