Fuck, this night felt endless. Despite his boredom, Tyler Chambers kept his expression neutral and maintained a discreet distance from his principal as he followed her through London’s busy Soho district toward yet another pub. This was the fifth stop in as many hours.
And there was talk of dancing. Not that Vicki, or her friend, could walk in a straight line, but Ty’s job was to ensure her safety and not interfere with her decisions, unless they directly affected said safety. Currently, she was only in danger of waking up with a wicked hangover in the morning.
He had watched her drunkenly, and somewhat incompetently, flirt with several hopefuls, all of whom had taken one glance at his hovering presence before beating a hasty retreat. And yeah, maybe Ty wasn’t supposed to make himself so obvious but, fuck it, he was feeling petty. And watching Victoria Hollingsworth getting frisky with some loser asshole wasn’t high on his to-do list this evening. If she were sober, she would have noticed how much he was overstepping her strict “stay over there and don’t interfere” mandate. But she was staggeringly wasted and getting more so with each pub.
Her friend was vibrant and beautiful. Tall, elegant, and poised. Very different from Vicki, who had a subtle, interesting allure that could only be described as unconventional. From the top of her bouncy riot of black curls, to her too large nose, incandescent gray, long-lashed eyes, a ridiculously lush mouth, and a jawline that mimicked her oldest brother’s stern one with softer lines, nothing about Victoria Hollingsworth screamed ordinary. But her attractiveness was subjective…and it was her friend’s pretty vivaciousness that was currently attracting all the male attention. Vicki was the focus of some of the spillover, which was making his job a little less predictable tonight.
The two women were arm in arm, swaying and singing, as they walked toward the next pub.
Ty, who had kept ten feet between himself and the women at all times, lengthened his stride to catch up with them. He gently caught hold of Vicki’s elbow, ensuring that his grasp was loose enough for her to remain unintimidated by his proximity and grip.
“Hold up, Miss H. You know the drill.”
“Oh, my God. This is so tedious,” she griped, without any real heat.
It was a familiar refrain. She had never been shy to voice her opinion about his presence in her life. And while she appeared resigned to it now, she still couldn’t resist the occasional bitch, if for no other reason than to keep him on his toes.
“Just stay put for a second while I check it out, ‘kay?”
She rolled her eyes and teetered on her preposterously high heels, before regaining her balance and propping a hand against the closest wall for support.
“Fine! We’ll wait here, right, Bells?”
Her friend, not in much better condition, nodded, but didn’t seem quite aware of what was happening around her.
Shit. He didn’t want to leave them out here, not like this. He cast a glance down the street. Not too many people close by, just a group of noisy, drunk guys far enough away for Ty to make it into the pub and out again before they could present any possible threat to the women.
“Do not move,” he warned Vicki. Her only response was to blow an errant black curl out of her face.
Gritting his teeth, Ty took another assessing look at the road before striding into the noisy pub. It was crowded, but most of the people here looked like Saturday workers, unwinding with friends. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not that he was expecting anything, but it was his job and, while he didn’t believe that Victoria Hollingsworth was truly at risk of abduction or anything else, he still had to go through the motions.
He swung around and exited the noisy pub.
“Okay, you’re good to…fuck!”
Where the hell had they gone? The street was empty…still the same drunken group of guys, closer than they had been a minute ago.
Yet, his charge and her friend were nowhere to be seen.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
How the hell could two seriously tipsy women completely disappear in just a minute? Jesus Christ, he hoped they hadn’t climbed into some predatory fucker’s car.
This was what happened when you allowed yourself to get too complacent. You became careless, made stupid mistakes. He should have dragged them into the damned pub with him. But the notion of corralling a pair of drunk women had been too damned exasperating and he had taken the easy way out and convinced himself that they would be fine. That she would be fine, and now he had fucking lost her.
Shit! He would have to contact HQ. He needed reinforcements, ASAP. He reached for his phone, tucked away in his breast pocket, and braced himself for the inevitable fucking flack he was going to get for this. His colleagues were only now easing up on him after he’d lost track of an entitled pop princess a few years ago. The ragging had been relentless.