The Trouble With Bodyguards: Part 1 Read Free Page B

understand.
                  He had seen the boy come out of the building, lust and desire clear on his face, and he had wanted to attack him. What gave him the right to talk to her, to touch her? She should belong to him, he thought. He was the only one who deserved her. He had kept so close to her, for so long. He had given her so much of his time, of his heart: he was the only one who should be allowed to be near her.
                  Rage boiled in his chest as he watched the boy walk away, his lustful smile plastered on his face. He stood up, taking one last look up at her windows, longing to have the ability to go to her, to pull her into his arms, laying gentle kisses on her sweet face. But first he must take care of this boy, this little bastard, so smug and satisfied with himself. He would wipe the smile from his face.

Chapter 3
                  Pulling into the drive of the family estate, Alex was awed at the display that her mother had created for this event. The trees along the road were all strung with hundreds of tiny, white lights, twinkling in the darkness of the warm August night, lighting the way to the house, expansive and impressive in the distance. As she approached, she saw that the balcony of the second floor had been strung with the same lights, mixed with boughs of flowers draped along the railing. It was beautiful, though ostentatious, thought Alex. Her mother had really gone all out for her father's big day. She wondered, for a moment, how it was to be in other families, who didn't come from a bloodline of wealth and prosperity. How did they celebrate birthdays? With barbeques and cake, balloons and beer. Sounded nice, she thought, a small gathering of loved ones, relaxed and enjoying their time together. But not the Grimes family. Their parties were lavish affairs with caterers and champagne, hired waiters and musicians. Every birthday that she had growing up was the envy of all her friends, the clowns, the petting zoo – there was even a pony when she was seven. This was normal to them. This was also a large part of the reason why she had tried to distance herself from her family’s wealth when she became an adult. She wanted to know what normal was to everyone else. She wanted to know what it was like to work for the things that you wanted, to feel like you had earned your success instead of being handed it on the day you were born. It didn't please her mother that she had walked away from the afternoon teas, from the shopping trips in London, and taken an apartment by herself, had started a career, had become her own woman.
                  A valet stood at the end of the drive, in front of the expansive entryway to the house, and he smiled as she approached, walking toward her side of the car and opening the door for her as she came to a stop.
                  “Alex,” he said, “nice to see you.”
                  “Hey, Barry,” she said, stepping out of the car.
                  He glanced down at her bare feet, her bright pink toenails peeking out from under the hem of her elegant gown. She followed his eyes, chuckling. She turned, reached into the back seat of her car, and extracted the heels, setting them on the ground near her feet and slipping them on.
                  “You ever try to drive a stick in three-inch heels?” she asked, laughing as she handed him the keys to her car.
                  “You know,” he said, mockingly pretending to think it over, “I think there was that one time, in St. Louis.”
                  They shared a hearty laugh, and Barry slid into the driver's seat of her car, pulling it behind the house to park with the rest of the guests’ automobiles. Alex lifted the hem of her dress, climbing the steps to the front door of her family home.
                  The doors were thrown open, letting in the warm evening air, and