Page 45 of The Bodyguard

“Tonight, we should talk about what happened.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Ryder replies. “We’ll be focusing on much more relevant matters, such as whoever it is threatening you.”

I feel my phone vibrate on my lap and turn it over. “Hey, Nick.”

“How was cow face?” he asks.

“Well,” I start and then tell him about Selena offering the giveaway to the audience.

“The fuck?” he cries.

“I was put on the spot. I couldn’t say no.” I shake my head as Jack climbs back in and tosses me the Macy’s bag, then we hit the road.

“No way she would’ve pulled that if I was there,” Nick spits.

Hmmm.

Maybe.

He doesn’t know about my stalker yet and I want to tell him, but for some reason I wait.

I catch Ryder watching me in his mirror, and we lock eyes while I keep talking. His eyes are pure sex. Watching them glisten when he slid his cock inside me this morning was intoxicating.

But there was something missing—a lack of intimacy, a coolness. Yes, it was a rough and wild fuck, and what I wanted. What we both needed. But Ryder was removed emotionally.

Perhaps it’s because of his past in the military.

I might want him, but the last thing I need is any rumors about me sleeping with my bodyguard, so I drag my eyes away and focus back on the call.

“I’m going to speak to Michelle and will be speaking to my lawyer. Selena Hendrix has gone too far,” I tell him.

“You have to act. I’ll have my own legal team send something too. Selena is out of line. Who the fuck does she think she is—aside from the biggest daytime talk host?”

Yes, well, there was that.

Still, there would be legal implications for her and the production company, so if she thought Nick and I were going to take this lying down, she’s dreaming.

Then I’m reminded of another concern I have.

“Nick,” I say, “yesterday with Gina. I need you to be clear to her that she isn’t your PA.”

“Babe,” Nick says. “It’s no big deal.”

It is. She’s my assistant and keeps running around after him.

“Tell me you’re not fucking her.”

“You told me not to,” he says, and it’s not an answer. Before I can call him on it, my phone beeps with a second call.

I glance at the screen.

It’s Michelle.

“Gotta run. I’ll see you in New York tomorrow afternoon for the Tonight Show.”

“See you tomorrow, babe,” Nick says.

As I end and take the next call, Ryder’s eyes narrow at me.