The Bodyguard's Temptress

Chapter 8

Natasha 

As I do my hair and makeup for tonight's double date, my thoughts are plagued with worry. It's been nearly two days since I've seen Knox, and no one will tell me where he is. That's nothing new, but it still sucks. I don't like being kept in the dark about things that pertain to me, and Knox is my bodyguard. I should know why the fuck the man who's supposed to be protecting myself is MIA. 

Marco gave me a ride from the bakery today, and it was so awkward. Not anything like the quiet but comfortable presence of Knox. Even though he's technically the closest thing I have to an uncle, we're hardly close.  

Despite that, he kept glancing at me while he was driving. It was...unnerving. His expression seemed to hint at concern, which he didn't do a great job at hiding. Or maybe I'm just good at reading people since everyone around me lies and keeps secrets.

Curling the last strand of hair on my head, I nearly jump out of my skin at the urgent knock echoing through my suite. I quickly glance through the peephole, flinging open the door to find Knox standing there, his familiar, black suited frame towering in the doorway.

 "Knox, you're okay!" I burst out, feeling an overwhelming surge of relief. I throw my arms around him, pressing myself against his chest. Breathing in his scent, a pleasurable shiver runs through me. This is the closest I've been to him since he saved my life, but it feels good. So right.  A part of me had started to believe that I might never see him again, that something horrible had happened to him.

He doesn't hug me back, but to my surprise, doesn't push me away either. Instead, his body seems to relax, and I think I hear him sigh in relief. Or maybe there's a chance I might just be delusional.

"I'm right here, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress that I've missed so fucking much. His presence, solid and comforting, wraps around me like a blanket, and I cling onto him longer than I should. But when I finally pull back, I look into his grey eyes, searching for answers.

His expression is hard to read, but there's a tinge of concern in his gaze. He looks me over, from head to toe, like he's checking for damage. It's as if I'm some precious artifact he's responsible for, ensuring I haven't been harmed or altered since he left me. 

"You're okay," he says, more as a statement than a question.

I frown, my eyebrows knitting. "You were worried about me? Why? You're the one who vanished without a trace for the last couple of days," I reply, my voice edged with frustration.

"I'm always worried about you. That's my job."

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "Well, I was worried about you, too," I admit, my voice nearly whisper. "Besides, you're the only one I trust to actually keep me safe. I was scared someone would come after me while you were gone."

His lips twitch, almost forming a smile. "I've still been watching over you, Natasha. Just because you couldn't see me doesn't mean I wasn't there."

A warmth spreads across my cheeks, and I look down at the floor to hide my crimson cheeks. Knox gently places a hand on my head, holding it there as I glance back up at his softened gaze. 

"Even with me being away, you still went out, even if it was just to the bakery. You didn't let your fear control you. I'm very proud of you."

His words hit me like a tsunami, and I feel my heart race as tears pool in my eyes. He's proud of me. I haven't even heard those words from my own father in so long. 

"Thank you," I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. But then my gaze drops to his hand, and I gasp when I notice he's wearing a cast. "What the hell happened to your hand?"