“And who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” Vincent sneered.
The man who’s about to pummel your face into a pulp.
Before I could respond, Bridget cut in. “No one.” She glared at me. “I’m fine. Go back to your post.”
The hell I will.
If Bridget were anyone but my client, I’d drag her into the bathroom, bend her over, and spank her ass raw for her insolent tone.
Instead, I glared back at her, striving to keep my temper under control.
She wanted to party? Fine. She wanted to give me the cold shoulder? Fine. But over my dead body would she have anything to do with Vincent fucking Hauz. The man must be crawling with STDs.
Vincent’s eyes ping-ponged between us before realization dawned. “You’re the bodyguard!” He snapped his fingers. “Dude, you should’ve said so. Don’t worry.” He wrapped an arm around Bridget’s waist and pulled her closer with a leering smile. “I’ll take good care of her.”
Fuck pummeling his face. I wanted to knock all his teeth out.
Unfortunately, that would cause a scene, and rule number one of bodyguarding, as Bridget called it, was not to cause a scene. So, I did the next best thing. I tightened the grip I still had on his shoulder until I heard a small crack above the music.
Vincent yelped and released Bridget, his face awash with pain. “What the fuck, man?”
“What did I say about removing your hands from her?” I asked calmly.
“You’re insane,” he sputtered. “Bridget, who is this guy? Fire him!”
I ignored him and turned to Bridget. “It’s time to go, Your Highness.” We were attracting attention, which was the last thing I wanted, but fuck if I was going to let this creep take advantage of her. “You have an early morning tomorrow.”
She didn’t. I was giving her an out—one she didn’t take.
“Good idea.” Bridget brushed off my warning stare and placed a hand on Vincent’s chest. My pulse beat an angry drumbeat beneath my collar. “I’ll leave with Vincent. You can take the rest of the night off.”
“You heard her.” Vincent wrenched himself from my grasp and took a step behind Bridget. Coward. “Get outta here. I’ll bring her home in the morning.” He ran his eyes over Bridget’s chest and bare legs, his gaze lecherous.
The man didn’t have a single brain cell in his over-inflated head. If he did, he would be running for his life right now.
“Wrong. This is what you’re going to do.” I kept my voice friendly. Conversational. But beneath the polite veneer ran a razor-sharp blade of steel. “You’re going to turn around, walk away, and never speak, touch, or so much as look in her direction again. Consider this your first and final warning, Mr. Hauz.”
I knew his name. He knew I knew his name. And if he was stupid enough to ignore my warning, I would hunt him down, rip off his balls, and feed them to him.
Vincent’s face flushed a mottled purple. “Are you threatening me?”
I loomed over him, relishing the fear that skittered through his eyes. “Yes.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Bridget said through gritted teeth. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Vincent took another step back, oozing hatred, but the fear in his eyes remained. “Whatever. I’m over this shit.” He stormed away and disappeared into the crowd of drunken partygoers.
Bridget spun toward me. “What is your problem?”
“My problem is you’re acting like a drunk, spoiled brat,” I snapped. “You’re so shit-faced you have no idea what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” She stared up at me, all fire and defiance, and heat curled inside me. I didn’t know what it was about her anger that turned me on so much. Maybe it was because it was one of the few times I could see her and not the mask she showed the world. “I’m having fun, and I’m leaving with a guy at the end of the night. You can’t stop me.”
I smiled coldly. “You’re right. You are leaving with a guy. Me.”
“No, I’m not.” Bridget crossed her arms over her chest.
“You have two options.” I leaned in close enough to smell her perfume. “You can either walk out of here with me like an adult, or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here like a child. Which one will it be, princess?”
She wasn’t the only one pissed tonight.
I was pissed she’d spent the last half hour letting a weaselly fucker put his hands all over her. I was pissed we were fighting when we had two weeks left together. Most of all, I was pissed at how much I wanted her when I couldn’t have her.
If there was one thing her move back to Eldorra made clear, it was that our relationship was a temporary one. It always had been, but it hadn’t hit close to home until now.
At the end of the day, she was a princess, and I was the guy they’d hired until they didn’t need me anymore.
Crimson stained Bridget’s high cheekbones. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“You forget you’re not the boss here, Mr. Larsen.”
The temperature of my smile dropped another ten degrees. “You want to test that theory?”
Her lips thinned. For a second, I thought she might stay just to spite me. Then, without saying a word or so much as looking at me, she pushed past me and walked toward the exit, her shoulders stiff. I followed her, my scowl dark enough to make the other clubbers scatter like marbles before me.
We took the first cab we found back to Bridget’s townhouse, and it barely stopped before Bridget jumped out and sped walk to the front door. I paid the driver and caught up with her in four strides.
We entered the house, our footsteps echoing on the wood floors. When we reached the second floor, Bridget opened her bedroom door and tried to slam it in my face, but I wedged my arm in the gap before she could do so.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“I don’t want to talk. You’ve already ruined my night. Now leave me alone.”
“Not until you tell me what the hell’s going on.” My gaze burned into hers, searching for a hint as to what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks. Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Bridget gave up trying to bar me from her room and released the door. I pushed it all the way open but remained in the doorway, watching. Waiting. “I’m twenty-three, Mr. Larsen. Twenty-three-year-olds go out and drink and sleep with guys.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw. “Not the way you’ve been doing since we got back to New York.”
Not the sleeping with guys part, thank God, but the going out and drinking.
“Maybe I’m tired of living life the way I should and want to live life the way I could.” Bridget removed her jewelry and placed it on her dresser. “My grandfather almost died. One minute he was standing, the next he collapsed. What’s to say the same thing won’t happen to me?”
Her words held a ring of truth, but not the full truth. I knew every inflection of her voice, every meaning behind every movement. There was something she wasn’t telling me.