“I just, I’m not, I mean, why do we have to have small talk?”
Drake sat back, watching her. “You haven’t had a lot of people around, have you?”
“Mr. Dome, you’ve been working for me for six months, you tell me.”
“You don’t go out. You don’t answer the door. I take your deliveries and from previous experience, your other guards did exactly the same. You don’t have any visitors and anyone who offers to stop by, you lie to.”
“Look, I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. If you don’t like your job, quit. Believe me, I’ll find someone else to take your place. I’m not stopping you from moving on.” She got to her feet, about to leave, but he grabbed her arm.
It was the first time she’d been touched in so long. She gasped, shocked at the contact.
She hadn’t even gotten a hug after her accident. Her mother had been long dead by that time.
Why did this touch matter at all?
****
Drake watched as her eyes went wide. She looked like she was about to have a panic attack. This was the last thing he wanted to do to her, to scare her.
He didn’t remove his hand though.
From all of his research and talking to some of her old bodyguards, he knew Petra didn’t accept touch of any kind. Not even from the mailman. In fact, she’d never even met the mailman, which he found so fucking sad.
Her entire story was really fucking sad. Look at her now, scared, a shadow of her former self.
She’d never been the kind of woman to stand out in a party and make a spectacle of herself. He’d seen images and videos of how she used to be. A stunning smile, sweet, catching every single guy’s attention, at least those who didn’t want to be seduced. She had this friendly way about her that allowed people to relax within her company.
He felt it.
It was hard to fight.
She tried to cover her face as much as possible and he did everything to stop her from doing that.
Yes, when they first happened, the scars were ugly. Every single part of what happened to her was ugly. The man, who was now rotting in jail, had found Petra alone in the house and had intended to rape and kill her. He’d only gotten so far as scaring her. Changing her entire life forever.
He hated it. Hated the fact someone could be so fucking selfish. It pissed him off.
Her family. He didn’t even want to think about her family, not right now. Not with what they wanted him to do.
Fuck!
“Petra, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t think you should be touching me.”
“Why, do you have some disease?” he asked, smiling, trying to show her he wasn’t offended or going to go away easily. Fuck that shit. She had way too many people push her aside, and he wasn’t going to be one of them.
She wasn’t going to get rid of him. Not because of her family either. He still needed to work out that shit. Her family, her deadbeat fucking shit of a father, his new wife, and their kids wanted the money or some of the money that had been left to Petra.
Drake knew all the details of the Hall fortune. Petra’s mother had been rich. Heiress to an empire. Her husband, Petra’s father, had thought he’d manipulated her enough to put the entire wealth in his name.
Wrong.
Petra’s mother had known what a cheating asshole he’d been, and on her mother’s death, Petra got everything. The empire, the house, the yachts. All of it. She confined herself to a relatively small country estate. One with a great deal of security and in the middle of nowhere.
Much to his shame, he needed money and had been offered this job as a way to make some quick cash. His security company had hit on some hard times. One of his employees had stolen all of his assets, millions of dollars. In order to keep his company going, he needed quick cash flow.
Petra’s father had offered him the source, Petra herself. All he had to do was make Petra fall in love with him, knock her up, marry her, and get control of her fortune. He’d have it made.
What this woman possessed, it was shocking.
But he had a problem. A big one.
He wouldn’t be like all the men who had tried and failed to get close to Petra. They saw the scars and didn’t think they could go through with it.
Drake, he was a first-class asshole because he saw the scars, and to him, they were fucking beautiful. Being a bodyguard wasn’t new to him. It wasn’t something he just randomly decided to do. Security, being a bodyguard, it was all part of his training and work. This was who he was.