Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Birds twittered in the trees as Wilt exited his bungalow, testing the handle to ensure that it was locked. He glanced in the direction of where Indigo was staying.
Did he escort her to dinner?
He should, his job was to provide security for her.
It wasn’t like she was wearing any jewelry, but that didn’t matter.
Their presence was known on the island now, and he’d heard the way some young girls had chatted excitedly about seeing her.
Saying she was a great role model, and how she’d worked her way up from nothing to where she was and they wished they could talk to her.
There was a chance on the walk to the restaurant she might get intercepted by some of her young fans.
He promised himself he would do his job, and that was what he was going to do.
Decision made, his steps ate up the short distance between their bungalows. Quickly, and without giving it a second thought, he rapped on her door.
It opened immediately, and like always when it came to her, the familiar aroma of roses wafted over him.
“Hi, I’m not late, am I?” she asked breathlessly.
Was there anything she didn’t look stunning in? The deep red of her dress, a perfect foil for her black hair. It finished just above her knee, showing off the expanse of her long, tanned legs. It was fitted to her waist before it flared out in a skirt that would likely swish when she walked.
His dick twitched behind his zipper, and he recalled how good she’d felt in his arms when they’d kissed.
He shook his head, pushing that memory to the far recesses of his mind, where it belonged. “Nope, but I’m here to escort you to dinner.”
“Is that necessary? It’s not that far, and I got to and from the photoshoot without you shadowing me.”
Trust her to point out how he’d neglected his duties. “Correct, you did, but I should’ve been with you on both occasions. It’s not going to happen again.”
Her mouth opened as if she was going to argue with him, but then she snapped it shut. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed in and out deeply, as if expelling whatever she was going to say. “Fine. I need to put my shoes on and sort out my purse. Do you want to come in?”
Wilt’s gaze was drawn to her feet, noting her toes were painted a pale pink. He’d never been into feet, but like everything else about Indigo, hers were flawless. Nothing marred the skin. It was clear she looked after every part of her body.
“Never would’ve picked you to have a foot fetish,” she said, humor lacing her tone.
Of course he’d get caught staring. He trailed his gaze back up her body until he found her eyes. “I don’t, but if I did…” he didn’t finish, annoyed at himself for almost joking back with her. “I’ll wait out here.”
He turned his back on her, needing to divert his attention to something other than the beautiful woman in front of him, and the temptation to sample her soft lips again.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
This wasn’t how he normally acted on a job. He was polite and professional. He certainly didn’t stare at his client’s feet and imagine pushing her back into the room to kiss her.
A few people walked past, staring at him, no doubt wondering what he was doing, and if he was some sort of creeper who stood outside a person’s door.
Maybe he should wear a suit so he looked like security and not a regular joe, like he was aiming for.
“I’m ready.” Indigo’s soft voice wafted over him like a warm breeze.
Again, his cock flared to life, and he took a couple of seconds to will it to settle the fuck down before he faced her, deliberately not looking at her feet.
Wilt fixed his gaze to a spot of her shoulder, giving the impression of looking at her, but not really.
“Do you have a jacket or something in case it gets colder when we walk back?”
She raised her hand, and a filmy piece of fabric floated in the light breeze. “I have a wrap.”
It didn’t look like it would be effective if a strong wind came rushing through the island, but he kept his words to himself. “Right, let’s go then.”
He held out his arm to help her down the stairs. Would she take it? Or would she make her own way down?
Her hand lightly gripped his forearm, and his skin warmed. He should’ve worn a long-sleeve shirt instead of the short-sleeve one he had on. At least he would have a barrier of cloth between her hand and his skin.
He ignored the warmth spreading through him. It was two steps, that was all he had to get through before he could drop his arm. Except, they were already walking along the path toward the restaurant, and her hand was still on his arm, and he was fine with it.
Again, the thought that touching her–being so close to her–was wrong, filtered through his mind, but it felt right at the same time too. As though it was always supposed to be like this.
It was a slippery path he was walking down, and he needed to dig deep to find the anger and annoyance he had felt toward her that first day in the office. That was an emotion he should be grabbing onto, not the desire that seemed to be coursing through him.
What was the old saying? There was a fine line between love and hate, and Wilt was walking precariously along that line.
“You’re very tense,” she murmured, her fingers stroking along his arm.
Her touch wasn’t helping him in any way, but if he snatched his arm away, she’d know she affected him.
Or she might think he found her repulsive.
That was the last thing he wanted her to think about him, so he mentally willed his muscles to relax a little.
Not totally, he still needed to be doing his job.
“Part of the job. Always ready to spring into action.”
“Even here, on this island?” The surprise in her voice wasn’t hard to miss.
“Yes, even the most innocent looking person can have evil motivations.”
“That’s a pretty sad thought to have. Not everyone is out to kill or harm someone.”
If only it was that simple. Over the last couple of years, the people close to him had stared evil in the face. People they thought knew. Colleagues they worked with who had turned out to be plotting against them.
It would be easy to list them for her, but they were almost at the restaurant, and he didn’t want to bring down the evening before it had started. He should’ve kept his comments to himself in the first place. But he could at least answer her.
“You’re right. Not everyone does, but I’ve seen a lot over my years in service, as well as in the private sector. Things that would surprise even you.”
“I suppose so,” she murmured, removing her hand from his arm as he opened the door for her to enter. The chatter from the patrons seemed foreign after the quiet of their walk.
Wilt guided Indigo through the restaurant, his hand low on her back, his gaze surveying the area. He didn’t expect to find anything out of place, but as he’d just finished explaining to Indigo, anything was possible.
Jeffrey, Greta, Vincent the photographer, and Louella his assistant, were all seated at the back of the restaurant; the two remaining seats were ones he wouldn’t have chosen to sit in. He would have his back to the room, and he didn’t like that at all.
He would be vulnerable and oblivious to something happening. He didn’t have his team at his back, either.
Wilt mentally shook the thoughts off. They were on an island filled with tourists or people who regularly visited it. This wasn’t the middle of a war zone where having something as simple as a meal could be the prelude to an outbreak of violence.
“Hi everyone,” Indigo said brightly, and took one of the vacant seats.
Wilt hesitated, wanting to sit next to Indigo, but wishing they’d gotten there earlier so he could’ve had his pick of positions.
As if Jeffrey picked up on his discomfort, the other man leaned toward his wife. “Why don’t you go sit next to Indigo, and then Wilt can sit here?”
Whether it was something in his tone, or the fact that they’d been in a relationship for a while, Greta picked up on the unspoken words and smiled. “Of course, that’s a great idea.”
Indigo glanced up at him. “You okay?” she asked.
“Yep,” he said, and took the seat Greta had just vacated, relaxing now that he had visual of the whole place, and a wall to his back. “Thanks,” he said to Jeffrey.
“I could see you weren’t comfortable with the arrangements, and knowing what I know about what you do, and how Jude is when we all go out together, I knew you’d prefer to sit here than on the other side of the table.”
“It’s hard to let go of things that have been hammered into you, and the reasons for them.”
“No need to explain. I get it. You’ve always got to be prepared, even when you least expect it.”
Jeffrey got it, and Wilt appreciated his understanding. “Exactly.”
Jeffrey shifted his attention to answer a question Vincent had asked, and Wilt took the opportunity to center himself and get the layout of the restaurant, taking note of the emergency exits and any points where an assailant could come in if they wanted to.
Not that he expected them to, but as he’d told Jeffrey, habits were hard to break. But some habits weren’t meant to be broken, and keeping people safe and being ready to spring into action was one he had no desire to lose.