I clear my throat noisily and his head whips to me. ‘And for you, sir?’
‘Water, thanks,’ I grunt.
‘Still or sparkling, sir?’
‘Whatever.’ I’m scanning the room for exits, entrances, anyone who looks out of place or like they’ve consumed one too many and may pose a problem.
In the States, I carried a weapon. I have a sense of vulnerability without it. There are firearms at Victoria’s house. I hope I never have to fire a bullet from any of them, but the woman seems to be a magnet for trouble.
The barman glances between us before leaving to fetch the drinks.
‘Would you prefer me to sit over there?’ I motion to the adjacent table.
A frown creases her eyebrows. ‘Am I so intolerable that you can’t bear to sit next to me?’
‘I thought maybe you’d want a little space.’ I slide onto the bench next to her. ‘I didn’t want to assume…’
‘God forbid people might mistake us for a couple.’ A loud sigh slips from her lips. ‘You know, Archie, I used to like you. I even thought we were sort of friends.’
I take a deep breath. This is exactly the type of conversation I was hoping to avoid.
‘I’m not paid to be your friend.’ It comes out harsher than I intend, and she flinches.
I soften my tone. ‘I’m trying to ensure you’re safe. I get that it’s hard for you having someone by your side twenty-four-seven, but it really is necessary. Sasha shelters you from the majority of threats they receive. When there’s as much public interest as there is in your family, there’s always going to be a risk from the media or some crazed fan.’
‘I just don’t get why you have to be so cold towards me.’ Thick black lashes flutter against high prominent cheekbones.
‘I’m not cold,’ I lie.
‘You can barely look at me.’ Her doe-like eyes linger on my face for a beat longer than I’m comfortable with.
‘I’m scanning for danger.’ Another lie. I finished that within ten seconds of arriving.
‘Yeah right,’ she says sarcastically. ‘Because there was a real chance a crazed axe murderer was going to jump out from under the kitchen table and chop me into pieces while I was eating my carbonara?’
The barman returns with our drinks, saving me from having to answer that one.
From my periphery, I notice her lips press slowly, almost indecently, against the champagne flute. She takes a huge sip of her cocktail, staring ahead.
‘Tell me about Harrison.’ His smug face is still fresh in my brain. ‘Are you and he…?’
‘What’s it to you?’ she asks haughtily.
‘As your bodyguard, I need to know these things. It’s for your own safety.’ Even if I can’t bear to hear them.
She readjusts her seating position before finally answering. ‘No. He’s asked me out a couple of times, but I haven’t accepted.’ She takes another sip from her drink. ‘Yet.’
The fleeting relief that initially flicked through my torso goes up in a raging pile of smoke.
She runs a mindless finger over the rim of her glass. ‘Harrison’s the third generation of doctors in his family. They own a huge estate in Fife.’
He’s everything I’m not. Everything I’ll never be. Educated and from the right social class.
A memory of goosebumps rising on her arm when he touched her sears through me. I press my glass against my lips to hide my irritation. ‘And do you like him?’
Her neck cranes in my direction, a thoughtful expression on her face. ‘Is that also information you require for my safety? I don’t think so.’
‘If his advances are bothering you, I need to know.’
