Page 2 of The Forbidden Billionaire
“I don’t think so, ma’am.” He manages to sound polite and resolute at the same time. Jesus, the guy’s huge. I feel as if I’m standing in the shadow of a stone monolith.
“Yes, there has,” I insist. “I don’t want or need someone with me all the time!”
His eyes gleam in the lights from the Christmas tree behind me. “Ma’am, I appreciate your frustration, but I don’t answer to you, I answer to Marcus. He made that very clear to me.”
Incensed, I turn my glare on my father. “Dad!”
Dad holds up his hands, palms facing me. “Steady, tiger.”
“You can’t do this to me,” I snap. “You don’t make the boys have CPOs.”
He exchanges glances with Luke, and then his gaze comes back to me. “I know…”
“You keep treating me like I’m some fragile little flower that needs protecting all the time.”
“You’re my only daughter,” he replies firmly. Then his expression softens. “You’re precious, sweetheart. We’re only trying to look after you.”
“I don’t need looking after!” I’m tempted to stamp my feet. “I hate this. It’s complete overkill.”
Dad just shrugs as if to say,Great, but you’re stuck with him.
Furious now, I spin around to march off, but Luke has moved out of the way of a couple dancing nearby, and I walk right into him. Ouch, it’s like walking into a tree trunk.
“Get out of my way,” I snap.
He takes a step to the side, and I stride past him. Lifting the skirt of my ballgown a little, I stride across the dancefloor, heading for the bar, where I saw Marcus disappearing ten minutes ago. I stop for a moment and scan the crowded room. A presence beside me tells me that Luke has chosen to come with me.
I turn and glare at him again. “Go away.”
“I will leave shortly,” he says. “Technically I don’t start until after Christmas.”
“Then bugger off.”
“It might be best if I come with you, if you’re going to talk to Marcus.”
I huff through my nose. “Okay. Then you’ll hear first-hand that your presence is no longer required.”
“If you say so, ma’am.”
“And stop calling me ma’am. It’s really annoying.”
“Yes, ma’am, whatever you say.” His eyes gleam. He’s enjoying this.
I grit my teeth and scan the room again, and finally spot Marcus out on the terrace, sitting talking to someone. Ignoring Luke, I march toward my brother, threading my way through the tables.
As I approach, Marcus spots me, and his eyes widen in alarm. He stands, holding up his hands the same way my father did. “Let me explain,” he says.
“I told you I didn’t want more protection!” I put my hands on my hips. A few people glance over at us, but I’m so angry I’m struggling to contain it. “This should be my decision, not yours.” I swallow hard, telling myself to calm down. Remember the North Wind and the Sun, Aurelia. Persuasion and warmth are better than force. I swallow and give him a pleading smile. “Please, Marcus.”
He hesitates, and for a second I think I’ve got through to him. But then his expression hardens. “No,” he states. “He stays.”
“Marcus!” I drop the smile, my chest heaving. “You don’t have a bodyguard full-time. Why should I have one?”
“Because I’m six-three and nowhere near as pretty as you. He stays. Luke answers to me, not you. Right?” He looks at Luke.
“Yes, sir,” Luke replies.
“I’ve given him instructions to be very firm with you,” Marcus informs me. “I’ve told him exactly how you like to twist your security detail around your little finger. I’ve made sure he’s wise to all your little tricks.”
