Not even a twitch of a smile. “Aye, ma’am.”
“Your given, Christian name?” I pursue it nonetheless.
He folds his monstrous paws in front of him. “No, ma’am.”
I wait for a moment. He looks down at me. I look up at him.
“Will you tell me your Christian, given name?”
He thinks about it. “No, ma’am.”
“Okay then,Talon.What brings you up to my part of the house?” Frankly, I’m a little unnerved. How did he know that I’d moved bedrooms? I’ll bet Mason has cameras all over this house. Oh, sweet Lady Gaga, he didn't record us last night, did he?
“...asked me to come check on ye.”
Oh, he’s been talking to me while I’m panicking at my possible foray into porn stardom. “Um, check on me?”
If he’s annoyed at my inability to concentrate, he doesn’t show it. “Aye, ma’am. I’ve been given the responsibility of being your personal security.”
“Oh, good.” I laugh a little wildly, “Because the last one turned out so well.” His bushy brows draw together and I try to regain some decorum. “I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you Talon. I am just fine, thank you.” My stomach chooses that moment to let out a humiliating gurgle.
Talon remains expressionless. Do they teach that in bodyguard school? “Would ye like to come downstairs, ma’am? The kitchen is well-stocked but I can send an associate out for anything ye might require.”
WhatdoI want?
“Well, Talon. What I would like to do is leave.” His brows draw together again. “I mean, to grab some lunch in town. Look around a little?”
“Allow me to check in with Mr. MacTavish.”
I shut the door. I’m not going to stand there like a pre-teen waiting for my parents to lift my curfew. By the time I find my favorite boots - thank you, Mom - there’s another knock on the door.
“Mrs. MacTavish? I’ve been given clearance to take ye out.”
I bump my head lightly against the wood. This is going to be worse than it was at home. Fixing a pleasant smile on my face, I open the door again. “We have to come to an agreement, Talon.”
“Aye?”
“A display of mutual respect. Could you please call me Afton if I have to call you Talon?”
Ah, there’s the tiniest, slightest twitch in one corner of his mouth. “I will have to ask Mr.-”
“Don’t you say it! If we’re going to work together, you can’t be running to Mason for every little thing, right?”
Talon looks like he’s in pain. “How about if I call ye Miss Afton when we’re in private and Mrs. MacTavish in public? I believe Mr. MacTavish would consider it disrespectful for me to address ye so informally.”
I know when to quit when I’m ahead. “Let’s go find a lunch place.”
Chapter Eleven
In which Afton is a fierce buttered biscuit.
Afton…
Talon offers me a box after helping me into the backseat of the Maserati SUV.
“Mr. MacTavish wanted to make sure you have a phone. He said he believes yours might have been left behind in Seattle. This phone also has our top-of-the-line security features already installed.”
If you could characterize my father ripping it out of my hands as “left behind,” sure.
