The Bodyguard's Temptress

Chapter 3

Natasha

My eyes dart around, searching for him. But as always, he eludes me unless he wants to be found. I know he's always watching, always ready to protect me, and the anticipation fills me with excitement, with life I thought I had lost nine months ago.

I confessed my feelings to him, but he made it clear that when he became my permanent bodyguard that nothing would ever happen between us. Even if he didn't work for my dad, he claimed I was only confused due to my trauma, and I deserved someone better.

Honestly, his rejection hurt like a b***h, but I accepted it, refusing to allow it to shatter me further. I think my crush is gone anyway, I think now I just like the way he protects me because there was a point in time when it was sorely lacking.

After three days of being continuously drugged and raped by my dad's enemy and his men, Knox came to my rescue me with his face covered in their blood. He wrapped me in a blanket, and allowed me to sob in his arms the entire way to the hospital.

I'm living a somewhat normal life now. I'll never be able to forget what happened to me, but I'll also never forget the kindness he showed me afterwards. I've thanked him over and over again for saving my life, but it still doesn't feel like enough. Maybe I should bake him some cupcakes. Or allow him to wreck my p***y with his cock...you know, just once...to thank him.

"Nat, are you even listening to me?" Brandon's voice breaks me out of my daze, and I blink up at him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Fantasizing about your bodyguard again?" he asks teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

Yes.

Glaring at him, I feel heart rise to my cheeks. "No, don't be ridiculous," I snap, embarrassed he called me out like that. "I was just wondering if I accidentally left something at the bakery."

"Like what?" he drawls, casually brushing his hair out of his blue eyes.

My brain immediately malfunctions, and I avert my gaze from his. "Shut up," I mumble, picking up a cupcake from the table and shoving it into my mouth.

My best friend, Brandon, and I catered Marco's engagement party with a variety of desserts, including cakes, cupcakes, and puddings. It's our first real gig after opening our bakery, "Muffin But Trouble" just a month ago.

After I was kidnapped, I found solace in baking. It became my escape, my therapy. Dad eventually agreed to give me a loan to open a bakery, under one condition: Knox would stay on as my babysitter. I think Dad was just relieved to see me emerge from the confines of the hotel room I had made my sanctuary.

As Brandon and I chat near the dessert table, Dad approaches, his steps slow and assisted by his cane. With him is an elderly man I've never met. His features are lined with wrinkles, and whisps of white hair frame his face.

"Natalie, this is Johnathon Edwards. He was eager to meet you," Dad says with enthusiasm, his eyes unnaturally dilated from the night's 'festivities'.

I manage a polite smile. "Hello, Mr. Edwards. It's very nice to meet you," I reply, extending my hand, inwardly cringing as he plants a kiss on it.

Mr. Edwards grins. "Lovely to meet you, Ms. Marino. May I have this next dance?"

Brandon side eyes me, and I can practically see the hidden disgust on his features.

No.

"Sure." I allow the man to guide me to the dance floor, where we waltz slowly to the strains of classical music. I'm not sure why he wanted to dance with me specifically, but he seems nice enough. Maybe I remind him of his granddaughter or something.

"You know, my wife just passed a few months back," Mr. Edwards begins, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with calculated intent.

Okay...where is this going?

"I'm sorry for your loss," I reply as sincerely as I can.

"Oh, it's okay. She was a cranky old hag anyway." A brief silences passes between us as I try to think of a response to that. "Your father has done well to hide you after the incident. With this being your first public appearance since then, I can only assume you're up for grabs," he whispers in my ear, his hot breath sending a shiver of disgust down my spine.

That's when I spot him, past the dirty old man's shoulder. Knox leans against the wall, dressed in an immaculate black tux, holding a flute of champagne in his hand. His hair is neatly cropped, with tapered sides and a subtly tousled top. His dark gaze meets mine with an intensity that sends my heart racing.

As Mr. Edward's continues to go on about how he could take care of me, Knox's finger traces along his bearded chin, a subtle display of disapproval evident on his lips. Despite his stoic demeanor, I can't help but feel safer with his presence.

My grumpy guardian angel.

"Sir, no offense, but I have no interest in dating right now," I say politely to the elderly man, trying to let him down in the gentlest way possible. If I wanted to be with a man his age, I would go prowling around a nursing home.

Mr. Edwards' demeanor shifts immediately, as most men do when they are openly rejected. "I see," he murmurs with a sharp edge to his tone. "Your cunt so loose now you can't even handle an old man like me?"

I gasp, recoiling from his harsh words. "What did you just say?"

"How many men was it? Five? Ten? Did they use you up and discard you like the little w***e you are? That's all I was going to do with you anyway," he continues, his tongue lashing out across his thin, chapped lips with a venomous sneer.

Shame and disgust surge within me, mingling like a toxic concoction in my veins. I freeze as images from those three days plague my mind. They're there again, circling me, taunting me with their leering faces as they violate my body while I drift in and out of consciousness from the drugs they force me to swallow.

"Get away from me!" I scream, causing several heads to turn in our direction. But I don't care.

I refuse to let another man hurt me.

Mr. Edwards grabs my wrist tightly. "Shut up. It was just a joke," he snarls.

In an instant, Knox appears beside me, effortlessly prying the old man's hand off of me. "Go near her again and I'll shoot your f*****g hands off," he promises in a calm menacing voice.

Mr. Edwards' eyes widen in shock. "How dare you speak to me-"

But before he can finish his sentence, Knox is already hauling me away, his grip firm on my bicep. "The next time your coked-up father introduces to some creepy old man, don't accept his invitation to dance. It'll only end in trouble."

I want to apologize—for dancing with that man, for making him have to rescue me once again. But my throat constricts, rendering me speechless.

Knox leads me past my father, whose brows furrow at the scene, and he snarls, "I'm taking her home. Now." His voice leaves no room for argument, and Dad just stares at us. It's as if he cares more about my protection than my own father does.

And perhaps he does. Maybe that's why he hired Knox to protect me, so he wouldn't have to care anymore. So he can drown in his guilt and pain without my interference.

Brandon hurries after us. "Wait, don't forget about me!"

After being ushered into the backseat of Knox's black BMW, he drives off, his grip on the wheel so tight that his knuckles bleach white under the strain. I can't help but notice the tension radiating from him as he maneuvers through the traffic ahead.

"Mr. Knox, Sir," Brandon says nervously, "you can just drop me off with Nat. She doesn't need to be alone tonight."

Knox simply grunts in response.

"I'm fine, Brandon," I insist, trying to reassure him despite the knot tightening in my chest.

"No the hell you're not. I've seen that look in your eyes before. Whatever that creepy old f**k said to you will bring back your nightmares tonight," he retorts.

Feeling tears sting my eyes, I shout, "I said I'm f*****g fine, okay?" My body begins to tremble uncontrollably, and I struggle to catch my breath as a broken sob escapes my throat. "He just reminded me that I'm broken, and I'll never be the same again."

"You're not broken, Nat!"

"Yes, I am," I manage between sobs, the weight of my trauma threatening to suffocate me. "I can't even have normal s*x anymore. I tried to with that cute guy I showed you from Tinder last weekend, and the second he got on top of me, I freaked the f**k out. It's not like I could've explained to him that I was held down while a bunch of dudes forced their d***s inside me, so he just left confused."

Brandon pulls me close, gently stroking my hair. "First off, no more Tinder for you," he murmurs disapprovingly. "And second, nothing is wrong with you. If anything you're a boss ass b***h. A few months ago, you couldn't even leave your room. Now, we've got our own business and tonight went amazing. You just need to take your time with dating again."

I sob even harder, the sound echoing through the car, and I can't help but worry if my breakdown is bothering Knox. "I thought I was doing better, but then that man pretty much said I was a used-up w***e. What if every man thinks that about me?"

Brandon gasps. "If I had nothing to lose, I would beat his ass for you. He just said that because you didn't want his raggedy old dick."

"You think so?" I sniffle, clinging to the hope that he isn't just saying that because we're friends.

"Of course, sweetie," he murmurs in a gentle tone. "Now let's get you home and watch one of your comfort shows. What mood are we in? Friends? The Office? Brooklyn Nine-Nine?"

A shaky breath escapes me. "Friends, of course. Chandler always makes me feel better when I'm down."

Knox pulls up to the building of my suite, the soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows across his stern features. As he silently opens the door for us, I step out of the car, meeting his gaze. I can feel the heat of embarrassment spreading across my tear-stained cheeks, but his gray eyes hold mine, offering comfort amidst the chaos of my emotions.

"Thank you, Knox," I whisper, my voice barely above a whisper.

His nostrils flare subtly, a fleeting glimpse of the emotions hidden beneath his stoic mask. "No need to thank me, Natasha. It's my job," he replies, his tone steady and unwavering. "Now, go inside and make sure the door is secure. I will pick you up in the morning to take you to the bakery."

The deep timber in his voice makes my heart skip a beat, but I simply nod, allowing Brandon to grab my hand and drag me inside, away from my grumpy guardian angel.