‘Not a bodyguard, then...’
She pouts at me, nose wrinkling anew.
‘I give up.’
‘You want me to tell you?’
She smiles and nods.
I’m not going to lie. I can’t. Truth is there’s actually no harm in me being honest. To an extent at least. She doesn’t need to know it all. Not yet.
Yes, and it’s all about protecting her, not yourself, from what it will do to her, to you, to your relationship.
Relationship? There is no fucking relationship.
‘I’m a private investigator.’ I say it over the internal rant, louder than it needs to be, and she chokes mid-sip of her drink, her eyes popping out of their sockets as goosebumps streak across my body.
‘You’re not.’
I swallow back the rising panic and the need to confess all, my guilt working its way to the surface. ‘What’s wrong with being a private investigator?’
I hate myself even as I say it.
‘Nothing.’ She straightens and wipes her lips with the back of her free hand. ‘I’m just surprised.’
‘I deal in property too,’ I add quickly, suddenly feeling inferior to Her Ladyship in front of me and foolish as fuck for telling her the truth. What does it matter that my job is beneath her? Why do I care?
‘So being a PI pays well, then?’ she asks, her eyes once again travelling over our surroundings.
‘Well enough—but it’s the property that really pays...the investment. I do the PI work to help people.’
‘See—I knew it.’
‘Knew what?’
‘That you helped people. Whatever it is you do, I knew there had to be an element of that in there.’
I smile then, my chest lifting and burying the fleeting sense of inferiority. I do help people. That’s why I became a PI and that’s why I still am one. There’s nothing wrong with my motives. I just misjudged this one case.
‘What got you into it?’
‘The PI work?’
‘Yes.’
She nods eagerly and my smile tightens, my chest falls with the memories I’d like to leave in the past.
‘You don’t have to talk about it—not if you don’t want to.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ I force myself to relax. If I want her to open up to me, the least I can do is the same in return. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘I have all night.’ She slips from the bar stool to stand before me, her fingers gentle as they stroke across my brow. ‘I want to know what makes your brow do that and take it away.’
I can’t breathe past her touch... A weird sensation is lifting inside me.
You’re supposed to be helping her, not the other way around.
I chained my demons down a long time ago. The last thing I expect is for them to rush to the surface on her command. But here they are—and more. She’s making me feel again...something I thought I was long past.