6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

J asmine

He's somehow distorted the space-time continuum and bent reality, I think as Bold greets me in the morning. How is it possible that he's even more handsome with clothes on than when he wasn't wearing a stitch last night?

There's something about that tight black tee stretching across his chest that does something to my belly… and lower. Maybe it's because I memorized every hill and valley of his eight-pack during our conversation last night and can picture it beneath his shirt. Or maybe it's the way his ears perk up when he sees me, his tail giving a decidedly happy swish. He looks like he belongs on the cover of an exotic romance novel—the sexy wolven bodyguard and his swooning human charge.

In the darkness near the pool, he'd appeared younger than today—eager, open. Today he looks dangerous. Which, I guess, is the point. He's my bodyguard.

"Did you eat?" I don't know why I ask. I'm almost positive I already know the answer.

"Uh…"

Dad or one of his minions had food delivered to Bold's pod, but I figured he hadn't bothered to put any food into his mouth this morning.

"Here." I toss him two nutrition bars in quick succession and lead the way to my Honda Pilot. He makes a dangerous sound when I head toward the driver's side.

"Did you just growl at me?" My brows shoot up in surprise.

"I wouldn't call it a growl." His words are placating, but the look he's giving me is as close to feral as I've seen. There's a predatory glint in his ice-blue eyes that sends a shiver down my spine.

"What would you call it?"

"A warning… noise. Your father was quite clear on the parameters of my job description. I am now your official driver. Non-negotiable."

I try to return his growl, but fail miserably. "Non-negotiable. That sounds like my dad."

As I punch my office address into the GPS, he says, "Don't bother. I memorized five routes from here to there. You know… if anything were to happen."

Up until this moment, his presence has been interesting, a diversion. Now, though, I feel relief. He's not just here for show, not just something to put in the win column of my ongoing power struggle with my father. Bold is taking my safety seriously and I must admit, it's reassuring.

"I learned to drive in the Security vehicles in the Zone, then practiced defensive and evasive driving. Learned it off YouTube." He grins, flashing those lower razor-sharp fangs. "Gotta love the Internet."

As we drive to my office, I can't help sneaking glances at Bold. I'm learning his tells. Maybe it's because he's so buff, I can see his muscles tense when he's on edge or annoyed, and loosen when he's chill. His tail is also a dead giveaway, lashing in agitation or gently curling on the seat next to him when he's relaxed.

"So, what's the plan for today, boss?" He flashes me a grin, fangs glinting.

I laugh. "Since I've finally decided to take this safety threat seriously, I thought you could look around, see if my office needs upgraded security while I work on my paperwork. You can see if there are any changes we need to make."

He nods, all business. "Smart. Job number one—keep Jasmine safe."

"Jazz." I wonder how long we'll know each other before he feels comfortable calling me that.

"You probably don't need high end security equipment in the zone. Are you familiar with the latest equipment?"

"You're right about the Zone not needing surveillance—we've got National Guard stationed at the gates 24/7, but I want to do more jobs outside the Zone, so several of us took online training in the latest technology. One of the doctors who works at the Zone clinic asked me to outfit his house and city office. He was 100% pleased with what I installed if you want a reference."

"That's all I needed to hear, Bold."

We pull up to the modest three-story office building that houses my counseling practice. As Bold surveys the area, his keen eyes miss nothing. He points out the need for better exterior lighting and suggests installing cameras at key entry points.

Inside, he prowls through my small waiting area and cozy office on the third floor, testing windows and assessing exit routes. "I'll order some supplies—better locks, some cameras, and a few discreet security measures, just in case."

Reaching for my purse, I pull out my wallet. "Here's my business credit card. Order the best on the market."

I watch him work, impressed by his attention to detail and his dedication to my safety. It's a side of him I haven't seen before—focused and professional. My paperwork takes longer than it should have because I find it hard to drag my gaze from Bold.

Echoes of images I memorized last night in the pool haunt me. I can imagine his furred shoulders and ripped abs under the tee that clings to every inch of his chest. I can't ignore how he fills out those tight jeans and don't get me started on what his flicking tail does to me. The gnawing hunger it ignites when it swishes distractedly as he stalks from room to room makes no sense at all.

I finally finish my charting only after he's done checking out the office, placed his order online, put the credit card on the edge of my desk, and is now sitting patiently in my waiting room.

"Now," I say as we climb back into the car, "I've got a little errand I'd like us to run. There's a great Indian place near there. It's a hole in the wall but has amazing butter chicken and chai tea. You like Indian?"

"Uh… not a lot of that in the Integration Zone."

For half a heartbeat, I feel embarrassed that I've been insensitive—again—but a long glance at him tells me he's totally cool with my little social gaff.

"You'll help me order? Tell me your favorites?"

"Oh. I want to introduce you to a bunch of my faves: butter chicken, lamb korma, saag—that's an amazing spinach dish, and naan. Lots of naan. When we're done, you'll either be a convert or we'll cross Indian off your list."

"You like it? I probably will, too, Jasmine."

"Good to know, and call me Jazz. First, let's take care of our errand."

My mind is rewarding me with a slow-motion replay of the glimpse I got of him when I first saw him in the pool last night. I can't deny all the delicious sparks flying through my body.

When we're at a stoplight, he turns toward me, ears perked forward, nostrils flaring, and lifts an eyebrow. There's something about his expression that's so… wolfy, so otherworldly. It's so sexy it turns my thoughts to thinking about what's lurking under those jeans.

A second later, he chuffs and snaps his head to look out the front window. I did my homework on wolven when I decided to hire Bold. Despite how long they've been on Earth, there isn't a hell of a lot about them on the Internet. But I remember one article said their sense of smell is one hundred times better than that of humans. Did he just get a whiff of my… arousal?

Kill. Me. Now.