Page 13 of Brown Sugar
“We good here, Goliath?” I prompt when silence stretches on between us. “Let’s not forget you work for me. So you will answer me when I’m talking to—excuse me?!”
Tyson the Bison, as Hal’s called him, walks away without dignifying my statement with a response. He walks over to the wide windows that overlook West LA, peering out like he’s checking for something.
Then he’s moving on to other parts of my penthouse apartment. He scopes out my stainless steel kitchen and wanders down the hall that leads to the other rooms.
…this guy can’t be for real. Am I being pranked right now?
“Uh, what do you think you’re doing!?” I call out, scurrying to follow.
I catch up to him as he’s opening and closing the door to the laundry room. He moves into the bathroom for an appraisal of the window pane.
“Hello!?” My hand flies out to grab at his arm and I discover just what it’s like touching Tyson the Bison Jeffries.
I might as well be latching onto a steel rod.
I might as well be trying to wrap my arm around a thick tree trunk.
Feeling foolishly under equipped to stop him, my skin warms all over. I’m flushing hot asmyskin comes into contact withhisskin.
He stops suddenly and peers over his broad, muscled shoulder. His eyes snap to mine.
I’m practically burning up as I quickly let go of his arm and stand straighter.
Words escape me. My stomach flutters. I’m pretty sure the heat that’s creeping onto my cheeks is ablush, even if my brown complexion protects me from it showing.
Why in the hell am I blushing right now? Why am I speechless? He’s inmyapartment!
“I… you…” I stutter, then draw in a sharp breath and fix my hands to my hips again. “What do you think you’re doing? This is my apartment!”
“Yeah,” he answers, the first words he’s spoken. “I know.”
Then he steps around me and continues his perusal of my private space.
It occurs to me as I trail behind him into my bedroom in disbelief that he’s assessing everything. He’s doing some sort ofsecurity check.
He waltzes right over to the glass doors that lead onto the balcony and tugs at the handles like he’s testing their durability. He tips his head slightly back for a glance up at the hinges, admiring those too.
“Who else has a key to this place?” he asks.
“None of your damn business,” I snap defensively. “You’re my bodyguard. Not my roommate. You shouldn’t even be in my bedroom!”
“That boyfriend of yours. He have a key?”
More heat floods my cheeks. I’m so taken aback that, for a second, I lose my voice. “That… that…” I sputter. “That is none of your business either! That’s it… I’m calling Tommy and letting him know this is not a good fit?—”
“Alarm,” he interrupts. “You got one?”
“I’ve never needed an alarm. This is a building with security. It has a doorman. Private access elevators.”
He scrubs his thick beard, his expression still a stoic mystery. “Because doormen don’t go on break. Doormen can’t be bribed.”
“Well, the private access elevators?—”
“Easily bypassed once initial entry is gained to the building,” he goes on gruffly. “You don’t seem to understand the situation here. So allow me to school you,princess. There is a credible threat to your life. An attempt has already been made. An attempt that was narrowly prevented. If you think the person who ordered that hit on you is about to stop there, I’ve got a beach house in Arizona to sell you. Because you’d have to be the most gullible fucking person in the world to believe it.
“Now, I’ve been hired on for a specific task. Keeping your careless, clueless, spoiled, bratty little ass alive and breathing. I have never failed at protecting a client, and I’ve got no plans to start with this gig. So long as I’m your bodyguard, you will follow all the security protocols I set forth for you. You will slow the fuck down and realize the gravity of the situation. You will live to see another day. We good here, princess?”
No one has ever read me like this before.