Chapter 3 #2
“Your things are in the drawer to your left,” he says, standing. Moving back to his desk. “All of them. Even the blade in your boot heel—clever, that.”
“You’re not concerned I’ll use them?” I can’t keep the edge from my voice.
“Should I be?” He tilts his head. His hair falls across one eye. He pushes it back absently. “You said you’re here to protect me. Besides, if I was worried, you’d still be in chains.”
The casual confidence is fucking irritating.
My glare turns murderous and I bare my teeth slightly. Garrett only scrubs at his temple like he’s the one developing a headache.
“About earlier… I assumed if you truly objected, you’d free yourself and we’d come to blows. But you stayed instead of putting a knife in my throat. Forgive me if I misread what you wanted.”
What kind of apology is that? If it even is an apology. I suppose that’s the closest thing to remorse I’m getting from him.
I grit my teeth and say nothing.
“You haven’t done it in a while,” he says suddenly.
Heat floods my face and I look away, focusing on the books lining the walls. Anything but the way the lamplight plays across his features. “It’s none of your business.”
A low chuckle rumbles out of him. His grin widens just enough to make me want to stab him.
Fuck him.
The sound of his amusement scrapes across my nerves. He straightens and puts a few steps between us before perching onto the edge of the desk, one leg swinging idly beneath him. “So… what do I do with you?”
The thought of the crypt flashes cold through my head. I think of cold underground cells and bodies no one comes looking for. The memory of what they did to Shade’s mother crawls across my skin. If I fail, they’ll drag me down there until someone decides what parts of me to carve off first.
“Let me protect you,” I say quickly.
Garrett drums his fingers once against the desk. “Tell me about my father’s instructions. The specific parameters of your mission.”
“Keep you alive for fifty days. Identify who wants you dead.”
He lets out a quiet huff of amusement. “Everyone wants me dead.”
“Not everyone,” I say.
“No?” He slides off the desk, moving closer. “Name someone who doesn’t.”
“Your parents.”
“My father hired an assassin to follow me without my knowledge. My mother knew and said nothing. That’s not exactly reassuring.” The words are edged with something dark.
He’s standing directly in front of my chair now. I have to look up to meet his eyes. Something about the angle and proximity makes my throat tight.
“The people in the market. They love you.” I point out.
He leans down, hands braced on the chair arms, caging me in. “They don’t know the real me.”
“Which is?”
Garrett’s mouth twitches faintly but he doesn’t answer. He’s close enough that I can see the flecks of darker gold in the sea of his green eyes.
“Your father thinks you’re in danger,” I try again. I can’t fail this.
“My father thinks a lot of things.” He doesn’t move back. If anything he leans closer. “He thinks I should marry, produce heirs, secure the family line. He thinks I should be less... ”
His mouth tightens before he finishes the sentence “…less myself.”
“The contract is fifty days,” I tell him. “That’s all. Fifty days of protection and intel gathering. I’ll stay out of sight. I can shadow your movements without interfering. You won’t even know I’m there. Fifty days and then I’m gone.”
His eyes drop just for a second, then back up, contemplating.
“So I’d have an assassin shadowing me day and night for six weeks. That sounds exhausting for both of us.”
“That was the assignment…” My voice is careful.
“You’re terrible at stealth, your knee is damaged, and frankly I don’t trust you not to get yourself killed trying to protect me,” he says bluntly.
His assessment is brutal and accurate.
“That knee needs proper healing. You should be recovering, not chasing me through the city,” he adds.
The bastard sounds truly concerned. Part of me wants to appreciate the sentiment. The rest wants to punch him. “I can do my job.”
“Can you?” He crosses his arms.
“I’ll handle it.”
“No.” His voice goes firm. “You won’t. Because here’s what’s going to happen instead. “You’re going to stay here in my quarters where I can keep an eye on you.”
What game is he playing?
I hold his gaze, trying to read him. “What do you mean?”
“You heard me.” He looks entirely too calm for what he just said. “You’ll accompany me openly. As my… personal guard.”
“Your father hired me to protect you without you knowing.” I force my voice steady.
“I’ll deal with my father’s objections. Let me worry about him.” His shoulders lift in a small shrug. “Besides, he’ll get his money’s worth. You’ll keep me alive. Mission accomplished. You’ll just do it from here instead of from the shadows.”
“There’s a room through that door.” He briefly gestures toward the side. It’s not large but it’s yours.”
This is a bad idea. It violates every guild protocol and probably several laws.
“I can find quarters elsewhere in the city. Somewhere I won’t be in your way.” My brows pull together. “I don’t need to stay here.”
Definitely not this close to him. I don’t say that part.
He waves a hand dismissively. “You need to be close to protect me, right? Well, you can’t get much closer than this.”
Relief floods through me. I’m not being dismissed. The contract isn’t failing. He’s not sending me back. Though when he said I’d stay here, my mind went somewhere it shouldn’t have. I shove the thought away.
At least I’m not being discarded. That’s something.
I stare at him. Our eyes lock. But what is this bastard scheming?
I suppose I should argue more and refuse. Instead I hear myself say, “Fine.”
His grin widens. “Excellent.”
He refills both our glasses again. “Drink. You look like you need it.”
“Ground rules,” Garrett’s voice sharpens slightly. “First. No more lying to me. I’ll know anyway, and it’s tedious.”
“Understood.”
“Second. If you’re going to protect me, you need to be honest about your capabilities.” He glances at my knee. “That needs treatment. I can arrange it. Aelfheim has one of the best Hlaryan healers.”
“I don’t need a healer—”
“Yes, you do.” The words cut clean. There’s no room to argue.
I bite back the retort.
“Third.” He pauses just long enough for it to land heavier. “What happened earlier…”
My jaw tightens.
“That doesn’t have to happen again. Unless you want it to.”
Fuck off.
Forget protecting him from assassins. I might strangle him before dawn.
My expression is pure murder. But below the belt, my body betrays me completely. Dark images flood my mind and my cock twitches traitorously.
His eyes stay on mine, steady. “If you want more, you’ll have to ask for it.”
The idea of admitting it makes my throat lock. I drain my glass before answering. “I don’t want it.”
“You do.” He says it gently. “But you’re not ready to admit it yet. That’s fine.”
This bastard.
“Come on.” He pushes up from the desk. “I’ll show you your room. You need sleep. We both do.”
He leads me through a door into a small chamber. There’s a bed against one wall, basic furnishings, a chest for belongings, and a small window.
“Bathroom is through there in my room,” he says, nodding toward his door. “You can tell me if there’s anything you need.”
“Why are you doing this?” I finally voice it. “You could have killed me. Turned me over to the city guard or sent me back to the guild.”
He considers the question.
“Get some sleep, Wolf.” He moves toward the door. “Tomorrow we’ll start figuring out who wants me dead.”
“Wait.”
He pauses in the doorway, looking over his shoulder.
“Thank you.” The words feel awkward in my mouth. “For not killing me or cancelling the contract.”
Garrett’s smile is genuine and warm this time. “You’re welcome.”
His gaze flicks over me once more. “Oh, and Wolf?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll knock before entering tomorrow morning. Wouldn’t want to interrupt anything... private.”
He leaves before I can respond. The door clicks shut behind him.
I stand there in the small room, alone with my thoughts.
My wrists ache despite the salve and my shoulders burn. Underneath it all, there’s a strange warmth in my chest. I collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Fifty days of guarding Garrett Clayborne.
This is going to be a disaster.