Mr Garcia

“Wait a minute. Why were you drugged?” I frown.

“I was unlucky enough to be sitting next to him when the drinks arrived, I guess.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stands to attention. “What did you do last night?”

“Nothing, thank fuck. I was freaking out for a while there, but I spoke to the security guard. He found me drunk in the bathroom, and he walked me back to my room early.”

I stare at him. Something is off with this story. “So, you weren’t with the women?”

“No.”

“Why did you think you were at first?”

“There was lipstick on my collar.” He keeps washing himself.

Alarm bells start to ring. “Where did the lipstick come from?” I ask.

“The girls in the bar. Apparently, they came over and were trying to talk to me, getting all flirty. Thankfully, I got the hell out of there. Poor Bart didn’t have the same fate.”

I stare at him as I imagine the scenario he is setting. Hmm.

Interesting.

“Fucking nightmare.” He exhales heavily. “I’m glad to be home, put it that way.”

“How do you know the security guard walked you home?” I ask.

“I saw him, and he told me that he walked me to my room and that I got into bed while he was still there. I checked all the details, don’t worry.”

“And nobody else was in your room?”

“No. I told you that.”

I don’t like this.

“Bart needs to go to the hospital and get drug tested. This is a criminal offence,” I tell him.

“He is going. That’s why we came home early.”

“Well, you should go, too.”

“I’m fine. Nothing happened to me.”

“How do you know? What if something did? What if you had sex with one of those hookers? What if they took photographs? What if this is some elaborate blackmailing scheme? You’re the Deputy Prime Minister, Sebastian. If anyone is a target to be blackmailed, it would be you, and not that stupid sleazebag Bart.”

“I would know if I had sex with someone, April.”

“How? We have so much sex that you wouldn’t be able to feel a change in your body.”

He rolls his eyes and continues to shower.

I stare at him. “I want you to go and get tested.”

“I’m not. Drop it.” He puts his head under the water and begins washing his hair. "All I'll be doing is wasting six hours at the hospital for no reason."

Ugh, infuriating, stupid twat.

I walk out into the kitchen as my mind goes into overdrive.

Something is off.

Darkness looms around the corners of my bedroom, just like the shadows in my mind.

Sebastian is fast asleep, lying on his side, facing me. I watch as his chest rises and falls, the flutter of his lashes, and his lips that slightly part when he breathes in.

I’ve never been so besotted with someone before. Sure, I’ve been in love and been in lust, but with Sebastian, it’s different. Everything is magnified. The speeches he gives, the way he looks at me, the way he wears his suits… even the way he smells.

I have this overwhelming feeling that something isn’t right. Something is going on in the background, and I need to work it out before it blows up in my face.

Protecting him is all that matters.

I’ve been in the pits of Hell and I am weathered for any storm, but I can't let it go.

I can't drop this feeling, no matter how hard I try.

I will not allow that witch Helena to hurt him ever again.

I get a vision of her in his office last week. The entitled way in which she hid whatever it was behind her back, as if she was owed something. How dare she come here with an agenda?

I hate her.

Maybe more than I hate my ex, and that’s saying something. At least he accepted the divorce and, sure, he wouldn’t move out of our house, but he was never vindictive.

Sebastian stirs, and his eyes flutter open. He reaches for me and pulls me closer, “Why are you awake?” he whispers in his husky voice. He holds me cheek to cheek.

“Bad dream.”

He kisses my temple. “Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll protect you.” He rolls me over and nestles in behind me. I hear him slip back into regulated breathing as he dozes back off.

But who’ll protect you, my love?

I stare at the wall, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I’m filled with conviction, I know what I must do.

I will.

I rearrange the lapels on Sebastian’s suit jacket. “I’ll walk you down. I want to grab a coffee.”

“Okay.” He tugs at my hips, bringing my body against his crotch. Can we ever just hug without it being sexual?

Obviously not.

“You do make it very hard to leave, Miss Bennet.” Our lips meet in a tender kiss. I smile up at my handsome man and run my fingers through his thick, black hair.

“I’m looking forward to our weekend away.” I smile.