The Bodyguard (Norcross #4) - Anna Hackett Page 0,7
probably haven’t given me a thought. Let’s just…pretend I didn’t say anything.”
He gripped her chin again, forcing her to meet his gaze. A dark, intense look crossed his face, like he was fighting something. “Have you looked in the mirror?”
She made an annoyed sound. “I know what I look like.”
Then his thumb stroked along her cheekbone. It ignited a whole slew of sensation inside her.
“Thought of you a lot, Princess Sofia. Especially wearing that sexy column of green silk you wore to the ball.”
Her chest hitched. Oh, God.
She shifted and her robe gaped. It displayed the secret she kept well hidden—her navel piercing. Rome’s gaze fell on her belly and the purple amethyst in her piercing, and he froze.
Oh. Her cheeks caught fire. She fumbled for the robe. What if he thought she was displaying herself on purpose?
He reached out as well, but when she moved, his hand fell on her skin, right above her piercing.
They both froze.
His fingers moved over her skin and she felt the sensation right between her legs. She stifled a moan. His big hand practically spanned her belly. She looked up and she saw heat in his green eyes.
She blinked. Terrified that she was imagining the desire.
“I’m not allowed to think of you that way.” His voice was deep, harsh.
Her belly clenched. “Rome—”
“But I have.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m your bodyguard.” He stepped back. “I have to be focused on your safety.”
She tried to breathe, tried to talk. She managed a nod.
“I don’t sleep with my charges. Ever.” He straightened. “Air clear now?”
Sofie swallowed. “Um, no, I don’t think it is.”
His lips twitched, and his gaze roamed over her face. “You should take some painkillers.”
She nodded. Her side stung, so she wasn’t going to fight that. She closed the robe and tightened the belt firmly. She tried to ignore the heat in her belly.
“If it gets infected, let me know,” he said.
She nodded again. She really needed a minute by herself, away from his overwhelming presence, to gather her thoughts.
Rome wanted her. Her heart did a giddy dance. But he wouldn’t cross the line because he was her bodyguard. Boo.
“If you aren’t too tired, I’d like to go over your schedule,” he said.
Schedule? The man was giving her mental whiplash. “Okay.”
“Get dressed, Princess. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
He strode out, and Sofie let out a huge, shaky breath. What the hell had just happened?
Chapter Three
What the fuck was he doing?
Grinding his teeth together, he headed downstairs. He shoved his hands on his hips, then closed his eyes, and instantly he saw her, naked except for dark-blue panties, all slender limbs and golden skin.
Fuck.
And who would have guessed that Princess Sofia of Caldova had a belly button piercing? A sexy little gem that had begged him to touch it.
He growled. When she’d made that stumbling apology, cheeks pink, and eyes miserable, he hadn’t been able to sit there and stay silent.
He should have. He should have kept his mouth shut and his hands off her.
He had no business imagining her naked, writhing under his hands. His jaw tightened. He had no business fantasizing about a princess destined to marry some wealthy, aristocratic prince, or duke.
No business wondering how she’d taste. What sounds she’d make with his mouth on her skin. How tight she’d be when he sank his cock inside her.
Fuck, he wanted her.
Then Rome looked down and spotted the bloodstain on his shirt. Sofia’s blood. She’d been under his charge for only minutes before she’d been hurt.
He knew better than anyone that taking your eyes off the situation for even just a second meant people could die.
He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Sofia.
Rome made his way to the guest room where he’d stashed his duffel bag earlier. He washed the blood off his hands and changed into a fresh shirt.
As he headed to the open-plan kitchen, his cell phone vibrated and he yanked it out. “Nash.”
“Rome.” Vander’s deep voice. “Heard there was a problem at the airport.”
“One attacker. Had a knife.”
Vander cursed.
“Princess got nicked, but it isn’t bad.”
“Need a doctor?”
“She didn’t want one. I cleaned it up. Police took the guy. I was about to call Hunt for an update.”
Hunt was Detective Hunter Morgan. He was former Army, but when an injury had ended his military career, he’d joined the San Francisco PD. He was Norcross Security’s main police contact, although Hunt spent a lot of time cursing them for making messes and giving him a headache.
“You need more