The Bodyguard - Completed.

Chapter Fifteen

Flown away by helicopter to the airport, she was handed a plane ticket and a bus ticket to get home. Uncaring she was shuffled onto a commercial flight, crammed into a four seating in the centre, at the back of the plan, squashed in the middle, flown back to Melbourne, Australia, further away than Sydney. Put firmly back in her place.

It wasn't until on the way back to her hometown that she realised, she had no cheque to hand over to the town. Five thousand dollars as agreed upon, not much, but would help, finding no cheque with her used tickets that had been placed in a folder. Stunned, she leaned back in her high back chair of the bus seat. So many hours to go travelling cross country. Two bus changers and finally on her last leg home, empty handed. Unless, he was wiring it over to her. She could call her cousin, dismissing that idea, after what happened and leaving under such a cloud, she couldn't.

Xavier was so angry with her that he hated her. He could have cancelled the cheque, seeing she had already taken so much from his family. Fighting back tears, she stared out the big bus windows, closing down emotionally, fighting floating memories, but he wouldn't leave her alone. Xavier's unforgiving eyes, when they're used to look at her with such softness, such tenderness, now completely gone.

"Are you alright?" The dear old lady at her side named Mary asked.

She smiled sadly. "Yes, sorry, just memories."

"Sad ones," the dear old woman placed a hand on her arm. "He must have been special."

"Yes," she couldn't deny that. "But not for me, he belonged to another." Mary stiffened slightly. "No, I didn't know, hence, I'm here," then scowled with disapproval "Not his fault," she mumbled, looking out the window again. "Mixed messages, no-ones fault, not happening." She looked into the darkened night. That's how her future looked, bleak.

The problem was, she didn't know where to go from here. She had tasted real love and it wasn't about the clothes, fancy home, the yacht or the French Riviera, it was about the man. He had loved her so deeply. Maybe from her side, not his. He had been wooing a Princess, after all.

Lives had been played, and he was hurting also. She pressed her hand on her belly. Please, no, not that, it would be so wrong. She couldn't bear it. She wanted his child out of love. He only loved the princess. No, not love, his duty. He tolerated her, never loved her. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the window, so she could feel something.

Things would get better when she got home.

#

Arriving back at his residence, Xavier was greeted by his English butler, whom he had sent away on a break, since he was heading home, which hadn't eventuate too much later. "Good afternoon, sir," he was greeted with, and followed as he passed, heading towards his office on the second floor.

"James, is everything in place?"

"As you wanted. When would we be expecting your new bride?"

"A good question my friend, when I find her."

Grey eyes widened slightly. "Did you lose her, sir?"

He laughed softly. "Let's just say misplaced James."

"That was very careless of you, sir."

He paused and looked at his faithful man, who had worked for him the last few years. "Yes, it was," he agreed and went to climb the stairs and stopped, looking back, expecting any minute to see her running through the door, skidding across the entrance hallway, echoes of her laughter. Such sweet music. His fingers gripped the stair rail tightly. His knuckles went white.