Chapter 6 #2
“Happy to help.” The words were innocent enough, but for some reason, they bothered Savannah.
The curtness of his words was a stark reminder that she was merely a job to him.
It would behoove her to remember that although they shared a past together, he’d been hired to protect her, and his duties extended no further than that.
But when she looked at him, she couldn’t help but wish for more.
There was no question the man had an undeniable appeal that was beyond sexy.
She’d have to be dead not to notice. The way his long, dark hair brushed his collar, combined with the intensity of his stare, had an electrifying effect on her, causing certain parts of her to stand up and take notice.
The man’s physique was also impressive, which was undeniably captivating.
When she’d left all those years ago, he’d still been a teenager. With a lanky frame, misaligned teeth, and a somewhat uncoordinated manner. He might have seemed like any other teenager, but to her, he was everything. She’d loved him before she understood what love was, gawkiness and all.
The man before her now was so much more. Strong was a word that jumped out at her to describe him. Confident was another. His bearing screamed SEAL. The way he moved, the set of his jaw, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings. All spoke of years of rigorous training.
She found herself desperate to know this new version of the boy she’d once known.
His protectiveness was evident in the way he subtly shielded her from the crowds, his hand a constant, reassuring presence wherever they went.
That hadn’t changed. But he was more than that now; a newfound intensity burned in the depths of his eyes.
A wisdom that could only have come from his years as a SEAL.
His presence was stronger.
While she had remained the same. Still quiet.
Still an introvert. Awkward and weak. There was nothing remarkable about her except for her musical abilities.
Her height was normal. Her curves were unremarkable, falling comfortably within the average range even with the extra bit of weight she could never seem to lose.
Time had softened the bright white blonde of her hair, leaving it a muted, commonplace color.
And her eyes were a pale, washed-out blue like faded denim.
Absolutely unremarkable.
In every way.
A man like Sawyer would never be interested in someone as ordinary as her. She’d do well to remember that.
With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and brought up her schedule.
Fortunately, there were no official events planned until tomorrow, giving everyone a much-needed opportunity to unwind and rest following their long flight, so that they could be well-prepared for their performance the following evening.
In the window’s reflection, she saw Sawyer approach and offer her something, a shiny hair clip.
She took it from him and turned the delicate silver clip over in her hands, the crescent shape cool and smooth against her palm.
The embedded jewels—sapphire blue and deep amethyst—sparkled faintly in the Parisian light filtering through the suite’s windows.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d meant it to be.
Sawyer stood a few feet away, arms crossed, the collar of his black T-shirt pulled slightly askew like he’d just tugged on it from nerves. Or maybe frustration. Hard to tell with him. “It’s not just for looks.”
Her brows lifted. “Let me guess . . . I can use it as a boomerang?” Mimicking the motion of throwing a boomerang, she pretended to cast the object with a sweeping, arcing movement.
His mouth tilted in a smirk, but his eyes stayed serious. “No. Not a boomerang. Push the center stone. The sapphire. That’s the panic button. It sends an alert to me immediately, with your GPS location. Silent, no alarm sound.”
She blinked, then stared down at the tiny jewel again. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“And the tracking?”
“Built into the frame. Discreet and untraceable unless you know what you’re looking for. I won’t use it unless I have to.”
She didn’t ask what “have to” meant. He wouldn’t say it unless he thought the need might be real.
“I don’t . . .” she trailed off, trying to sort through the knot of reactions inside her chest. “I don’t know whether to be grateful or completely freaked out.”
He stepped closer, just a foot of space between them now. “I hope you never have to use it, Savi. But if something goes wrong, I want to be there before anyone else.”
Savi.
The old nickname wrapped around her like a memory. It softened her resistance, the instinct she’d been trained to carry in the Senator’s world—to pretend everything was always fine, even when it wasn’t.
She looked up at him, into eyes that had once belonged to a boy who’d sworn to protect her. Now they belonged to a man who could probably kill with his bare hands, but still looked at her like she was something sacred.
“I never asked you to—”
“I don’t need you to ask,” he cut in gently. “You matter to me, and I don't trust the people around you. Let me do this. Just in case.”
She turned the clip over again, and without thinking, lifted her hand to fasten it in her hair. “How does it look?” she asked, mostly to break the silence that had wrapped too tightly around her ribs.
He studied her for a long second. “Like moonlight piercing the darkness.”
Her breath caught.
And for the first time in a very long time, she felt the unfamiliar rush of something warm in her chest.
Safe.
A silent exchange passed between them, their gazes meeting and holding.
Hers, however, held a fragile sheen of tears, which she valiantly struggled to keep from falling.
An undeniable magnetic force passed between them, an invisible current that irresistibly drew them closer.
She found herself leaning in towards him, a subtle shift in her posture that she was powerless to stop.
She tilted her head back, a lump forming in her throat, her pulse a frantic tattoo against her ribs as she anticipated what came next.
Drawn as if by an invisible string to her, his hand rose in a slow, hesitant gesture.
But then he suddenly stopped, retreated a step, and let his hand drop down to his side. The connection didn’t simply fade; it violently fractured, exploding into a million tiny pieces at her feet. A forceful severance that left her reeling from the impact.
He cleared his throat, the sound raspy and low, before saying, “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll make a reservation for dinner downstairs for us.”
A deep breath helped her shake off the feeling of rejection, though the bitter taste of disappointment still lingered.
The image of kissing Sawyer, a sweet, forbidden fantasy, had continuously haunted her thoughts since she had reunited with him yesterday.
Apparently, it was a daydream she could cherish but never truly experience.
Had their reunion just been the day before?
Though they’d flown overnight, the lingering effects of their departure made the day feel continuous, a blur from one moment to the next.
Exhaustion hit her like a wall, sapping all her energy. “That sounds good,” she said, her tone more despondent than intended.
He started to speak, but stopped, his eyes fixated on her, the silence heavy with unspoken words. His expression flickered with a fleeting emotion she couldn’t identify. He retreated another step. “I’ll be right next door if you need me.”
“All right.”
When the door clicked shut behind him, a wave of despair washed over her, and she let out a defeated breath. If she couldn’t rein in her turbulent emotions, the next three weeks stretched before her like a bleak, unending desert.