Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2) - Alisha Rai Page 0,9

and then closed it again, flummoxed. She hadn’t thought about the logistics of dating. Jas lived on her property, in the guest cottage. When they were at home, he had an uncanny ability to fade in and out of the woodwork as she needed. When she left her home, Jas was always at her side.

She’d have to take Jas on a date? With another man? And he sounded . . . fine about that prospect. Utterly, totally fine.

So much for him thinking of her as anything other than a job. “I’m not going out with him. I turned him down. Wasn’t feeling it.”

“As you wish.” His attention returned to the twisting road. “Your wrap is next to you.”

She hadn’t realized she was shivering until then. It was cool out, the chill multiplied by the air-conditioning. She picked up the shawl and drew it around her shoulders. “Thank you, Jas. What would I do without you?” Truth.

A grunt. That was the grunt that told her he didn’t know what to say in response. He wasn’t great at handling compliments.

She leaned her forehead against the window. After a second, she pulled her phone out of her purse and opened Crush.

She studied the man Andy had matched her with. He said he was six-foot-four five times in his profile, not four, and she had no doubt he’d say it ten more times when they got together. Tall people were very proud of hitting the genetic lottery.

Jas was tall, though, and he rarely mentioned it.

Stop it.

With a surreptitious glance at Jas, she clicked on the guy’s profile and sent a waving-hand emoji. Not the most creative opener, but if he was interested, he’d get back to her.

What would I do without you? They hadn’t been empty words. Jas was such an integral part of her life. If he left, she’d survive, but she’d mourn his loss.

Longing shot through her. She wanted him to feel the same way about her. She wanted him to share his needs with her, so she could do things for him, too.

Katrina wrapped her shawl tighter around her. That wouldn’t happen, though. So she could never jeopardize their working relationship or their friendship with her stupid, too-big feelings.

Chapter Three

THERE WAS A time in his life when Jasvinder Singh had always been prepared for a fight, for an enemy around the next corner.

But if the military had taught him anything, it was that the lines between friend and foe were blurry, and there were some attacks you could never prepare for.

He asked me out.

Jas ramped up the speed of the treadmill, his feet pounding on the track. His breath was coming fast and hard. It had been far too long since he’d properly pushed himself.

He asked me out.

He tapped the incline button, forcing himself up to a steep elevation. He welcomed every second of the pain in his calves.

He asked me out.

The doorbell interrupted his savage thoughts, and he hit the pause button on the treadmill, jumping off before it came to a complete stop. He winced as his knee protested. When Hardeep had been alive, Jas had woken up every morning at four and worked out for at least a couple of hours.

Then again, his job had been much more physical then. Hardeep had been a massively wealthy jet-setter who was also highly visible, with an equally visible wife. Every day had brought another event and security challenge.

When Hardeep had died six years ago, Katrina had disbanded the rest of the security team with hefty pensions. Jas had assumed she’d give him notice as well.

Instead she’d summoned him to her office and quietly told him she wanted him to find her a nice house with an ocean view in California, and would he like to remain her bodyguard?

His yes had come very fast.

Jas picked up the phone from the weight bench and checked the display for the fifteenth time since he’d woken up an hour ago. He accompanied Katrina on all outings and was otherwise available to meet her needs, but he’d shifted into handling cyber security for her, her investment fund, and a number of the businesses she had shares in. His phone was always on him, and he was attuned to every noise it made.

For the past few days, though, he’d been on hyper alert for a 202 area code. No good news came out of Washington, not for him.

Nothing right now, though. The doorbell chimed again and he tucked the phone into the pocket of his shorts.