We’re back in first class, Emilie busy at work on her Instagram fashion site. I close my eyes and replay our weekend. She’s so damn beautiful. But, her smiles are closed off when she’s working. Not the smile of someone who loves her job. Of course, as a model, she has to maintain a certain degree of separation so that the photographer will get the proper shot, but it’s more than that. Her heart really isn’t in it anymore. The starfish proved that to me.

I turn my head and sneak a peek at her. She’s practically radiating happiness as she assesses photos submitted by her followers. One-hundred thousand people have found her not because she put “Emilie Dubois” on the account, but because she’s damn good at showing her heart and giving advice. Her demeanor now versus when she’s at a shoot is night and day. I want to help her find a new outlet for her creativity. But what do I know about creativity? No, it’s really that I want to help her.

Itching to touch her, I flex my fingers instead. She needs someone who can give her more than I ever could. My heart constricts at the thought of never kissing her again, never hearing her soft moans as she comes undone for me. But, I can’t be a selfish asshole, for once. I was selfish to choose personal training over the Marines, and Three is dead. I was selfish to let Roberto and Jared take the lead when we were watching over Cole and Rose in that house, and now they’re dead too. I have to put someone else’s needs in front of my own, even if that means cutting her loose.

“Wills, could I practice driving today in your Jeep? I have to go to the Agency and meet with Monsieur Price.”

Say no. Don’t give in.

“I have my drivers’ testing coming up and I have missed so many days of practice.”

She turns her eyes—more khaki today—to mine. I could get lost in them for years. I can’t give her up. I’m going to be a selfish asshole after all. “Sure.”

“Afterwards, I will drive us to your favorite restaurant and you can introduce me to Zak, like you promised.” She bats her eyelashes at me.

I know I should, but I can’t refuse her. “I’ll check if he’s available while you’re in the meeting.”

She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Did he help you during rehab after you were shot?”

Her change in topic steals my breath. “He stopped by and helped me out with some of the exercises the doctors gave me.”

“That is good. I wanted to be there for you more often, but I visited as much as I could. It must have been really tough on your parents when you were shot. So soon after your sister….”

I suck in my breath. “Yeah, it was a bad time for all of us.” Not that they visited me all that often. If Three were still with us, they still would not have visited. But she would have fussed over me. That thought brings a smile to my face. Recalling the few visits by Emilie reinforces my smile. She fluttered around me, trying to make me more comfortable. Her floor show did everything but. It’s probably for the best that her work schedule took her away.

“I would like to help you heal your relationship with your parents. Family is important.”

And we’re back to this. I shake my head. “Not every family is like yours, Ems.” Her chin kicks up a notch. She’s not going to let this go, though. I can tell. Maybe she needs to see it in living color. Yup, selfish asshole. I sigh. “If you’re dead set on meeting them, why don’t you come with me to their anniversary party? It’s this Saturday.”

Her whole face lights up as if I told her the starfish family were going to be there. “I would love to!”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Ems. We’re not warm and fuzzy. I wouldn’t bother going, but for you.”

“I want to meet them. If for no other reason than to thank them for raising such a wonderful son.”

Maybe FPU will put her off, where I can’t. She’s so pure and innocent, she really believes she can fix my relationship with my parents. I hate to disappoint her, but somethings cannot be fixed. Maybe seeing the reality will make her run. Right back to Rinaldo.

While my head battles with my heart, a yawn stretches across her face. “I think you need a nap. After all, you’re going to be driving when we land.” I grab a packet that holds a blanket and open it.

As she takes the blanket from me, she says, “I cannot wait.”

While she sleeps, I mull over where we are. She means so much more to me now because I’ve seen her. And felt her. I want her to be happy, but how could that include me? The monster inside me pinned her down on the bed this morning, and I can’t hurt her.

Maybe FPU will do me a favor.

LAX is better equipped to handle celebrities and the paparazzi that follows them. Before we landed, I pulled the flight attendant aside and demanded a personal rep meet us at the gate to assist us through customs. The plan worked like a charm. Despite her fears, the name “Emilie Dubois” commands attention.

The limo waited for us at the curb and we made a quick getaway before the paparazzi spotted us. Only having carry-on luggage has its perks. Once, I was assigned to guard the reality star, Mimi Barker. She traveled with more luggage than some department stores sell. My Ems isn’t like that.

My Ems. Damn. I’m not going to give her up, no matter what bullshit I was feeding myself back on the plane. I didn’t even let her ask me to join her in the back of the limo—I just slid in right behind her.

“Are you happy to be back in LA?”

“I am excited to see my house again. It is still so new for me to own it. I loved decorating it.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Maybe after my meeting and drinks with Zak, we can christen it.” She leans over and whispers in my ear. “I have never had a boy in my bedroom.”

“Have anyone in mind?”

She cuffs my shoulder. “I might need a certain blond bodyguard to check it out to make sure no one has planted a bug or something. Then, maybe, I can convince him to make sure the bed is safe too.”

A giggle that I swear has a French accent grabs me by the balls. How can I resist a playful Angel? I’m a mere mortal. “I don’t know how safe your bed would be with me in it.”

“I cannot wait to find out.”

When we arrive at her house, I retrieve the luggage and follow her up the stone walkway. Halfway to the door, she bends down and smells a white flower. “I missed my hydrangeas. I love having a garden.”

Inside her house, I drop my duffel on the floor and wheel her bag into her bedroom. So much happened between us since I was last here, only days ago. A noise behind me makes me turn.

Crossing the threshold, she says, “I need to change and then I will be ready to go to the Agency. Thank you for agreeing to come with me.”

“Only if you agree to come for me later.”

Pink stains her cheeks as a giggle escapes her lips. “You know I will.”

Maybe a kiss for the road? I stride across the room and take her in my arms. “Here’s a little taste.”

I dip my head and meet her willing lips, my hands resting at her waist. I pull her to my body and explore her mouth with my tongue, delighting in her low moan when I peel my lips from hers and trail them down her neck. I better stop now or I won’t stop at all. Still holding our hips together—I appreciate her model’s height—I force my head away from hers.

I whisper, “Ems, what you do to me.”

“Not as much as you do to me,” she whispers back.

“What do you need for your meeting?”

Her eyes open. “I should change into something less casual. Makes me feel stronger when I go into the office.”

I nod. “Is that the sort of advice you give on Instagram or Wear Your Win?”

Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. “Oui.”

“Then you know it’s the right thing.” I tap her ass. “Let’s get you changed.” I should let her do it in private, but I’m not about to miss a floor show. She takes a couple of steps, appearing a bit wobbly, before becoming more surefooted. The fact that I made her wobbly strokes my ego.

Hangers slide across a bar. Flip, flip, flip. In her huge walk-in closet—which boasts a marble-topped island, several lighted shelves of shoes and purses, plus single and double rods of clothes—Ems selects her outfit. Damn. How did I not notice this monstrosity of a closet before? It’s bigger than the apartment I just rented.

She holds up a blue dress. “What do you think of this one?”

I shrug. “Looks nice.”

She grimaces, puts it back onto the rack and flips through more clothes. Selecting another dress—grey this time—she puts it in front of her body. “How about this?”

It’s a dress. I shrug. “That one’s good, too.”

She sighs and walks over to the island, opening and closing the drawers. I’m afraid to peer in to see what all she has in there. A black bra and panties land on the top.

The zip from her jeans brings my attention back to her. She stands before me in just her bra and panties, her arms curling behind her to remove the bra. I whistle.

The pink on her cheeks deepens. “I need to change. Everything.” With practiced movements, she’s soon naked in front of me.

My eyes rake her from top to bottom as my mouth goes dry. The pile of underwear on top of her island catches my eye and I make a mad grab for them. Fisting the lingerie in my hand, I crook my finger at her. “Come here.”

She walks around the island and stands in front of me, a small smile tickling her lips.

“I much prefer to be taking you out of these than putting you into them. However, we can’t have you meeting with the Agency in your birthday suit.”

She giggles. “No. Not a good idea.”

I pull the two pieces apart and hold up her panties. “Black lace. I hope you chose them for me and not Price.”

Her hand flies in front of her mouth. “Ugh. He is so creepy. No way!”

Creepy? I’ll return to this comment later. Right now, I have a naked Angel in front of me, unfortunately, to dress. I nod. “Damn straight these are for me. Let me remind you, in case you forget during your meeting.” My eyes scan her body to the floor, noting her bare feet. Her toenails are painted purple. I drop down to my knee. “Put your hands on my shoulders and lift your foot.”

She complies, and I put her foot through the leg opening. “Other foot.” When she switches legs, I repeat the process.

My hands skim her calves, raising the panties higher and higher. I stop my progress a couple of inches above her knees and reach around to place little kisses behind them. Even her knees are sexy.

Returning to her front, I bring the material upward again. Now on both knees in front of her, I stop the climb three-quarters of the way up her thighs. My lips contact the silky skin on each inner thigh, her fingers pressing into my shoulders. Keeping my head in front of her pussy, I look up. Her head is thrown back, eyes closed. Warmth spreads through my body. I put this look on her face.

Inhaling, her musky lavender scent accosts my senses. She needs to get dressed for a meeting, not get you all hot and bothered, buddy. Maybe she’ll be more relaxed if I—

“Wills!”

Retracting my tongue from her pussy, I raise my eyes to hers. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” After another lick, I put her panties in place and stand. “Turn around, Angel.”

On unsteady feet, she turns and I hold her bra out in front of her. As soon as she slips her arms into the straps, I pull it up her chest. Tweaking a nipple between my thumb and index finger, I put the hooks into their right places and step back. Her underwear is in place. And my cock salutes.

She takes a few breaths and then turns to face me again, her eyes straying down to check out the bulge in my jeans. “I have never had my underwear put on in quite such an imaginative way.”

Her words stroke my ego. She needs to be worshipped, not treated like a glossy pinup. “I wanted to be sure you were properly dressed underneath your clothes.”

Her hips make a circle. “I want them off again.”

I tamp down my own feelings of desire. “Soon enough.” I pinch her ass. “Why don’t you put on your dress now?”

“You are not going to help me?”

I can’t trust myself to not to throw it on the floor and then lay her out over the marble. Clearing my throat, I reply, “I’ll zip you up.”

Her eyebrows form a “V.”

I cross my arms across my chest. “Not even a professional pout will get me to help you.”

Her face transforms on a smile. “It was a good try, no?”

I chuckle. “Yes, very good.” I swat her ass. “Now go.” After zipping the back of her dress, I leave her to finish primping. That woman keeps finding new inroads into my cold heart.

Emilie pulls into the parking garage. “Great job, Ems.”

Her smile reaches into my soul and coats it in light. “I did not mess up one time. No wipers.”

“Yes. I think we should take the freeway back to your house.”

Her eyes grow wide. She nods. “If you think I am ready, I will do it.” She rubs her palms together.

We walk together toward the small room that houses the elevator from the garage level. I didn’t ask if she wanted me to escort her. I’m her bodyguard, it’s my job. Yeah, as if she’s just my client. Who am I kidding? My need to protect my Angel stems from deep inside—at such a depth, it scares me. To cover up my turmoil, I press the call button. “Now, are you ready to talk with Price? Do you know what he is going to say?”

Her smile dims. “Well, I lost another contract to Geonna, so I presume he will be sending me out on more red carpets to raise my profile.” She pauses. “Your parents’ anniversary party is Saturday, right? I will need to tell him to block out that date. And this time, no matter the circumstances, I will not be missing this important personal obligation.”

“You can skip it. I certainly could.” I allow her to precede me into the elevator. She’s going to an important business meeting. Keep your distance, buddy.

“No. We are going. He needs to listen to my request.”

I place my palm on her cheek and bring our foreheads together. So much for staying away. “I know missing Rose’s shower was really hard for you. You need to tell Price. Stand up for yourself with him.”

In a small voice, she says, “I will try.”

How can this super-sexy, confident woman be so timid with her career? She certainly was not timid in pursuing me. “Hey. In your personal life, you set your sights on something and go for it. Take me, for example. I didn’t respond to your earlier texts, but did that stop you from calling me?”

Kissable lips form a smile. “Hell no. I wanted to get together with you. I knew we had unfinished business.”

“That we did. And look where that landed you.” I take her cold hand in mine and kiss each finger.

She giggles. “Under you, where I wanted to be.”

I nip the tip of her index finger. “I fail to see how I’m a prize in this scenario.”

“You are to me.”

I almost allow myself to believe her. But I’m trying to build up her confidence, not mine. “Now, think about your secret Instagram account. You grew it from nothing. I bet you hit snags along the way, but now you’re helping thousands of people. Do you consider that a failure?”

“What? No way.”

“So, let me get this straight. You’ve conquered both me and Instagram.”

She leans over and kisses me. “I conquered you?”

My cock twitches at how it would like to conquer her right now. “I’ll let you think what you want on that score. Just take your feelings of success and hold your head up high to Price. You’ve earned this right. He should bend over backwards to make his superstar happy.”

If I gave this speech to anyone else—I can’t imagine ever needing to give it, as most of the celebrities I’ve come across are blinded by their ego—they would have responded with a “they should be kissing my ass to keep me happy.” Not my Ems. She simply plasters a fake look of confidence on her face and nods.

The elevator pings at the Agency’s floor, and we enter the lobby. A red-headed receptionist lets her know Price is ready for her. I point to the sofa under windows that give a good view of LA. “I’ll be waiting for you right here.”

“Merci. I hope not to be long.” She follows the receptionist down the hallway.

When I can no longer see her perfect body, I take a seat and call Zak as promised.

“W. My man. What’s up?”

“Hey, I’m just checking in on my new right-hand. Can’t have him out and about in the world unfettered.”

His chuckle floats through the line. “Who knows what kind of trouble I can get myself into? Speaking of which, dude, how’s it going with Emilie?”

Fuck if I know. She’s mentioned exclusivity and I didn’t exactly disabuse her of the notion. What the hell is wrong with me? “I’m teaching her how to drive.”

“And by drive, you mean checking the oil, right?” When I don’t answer, he continues, “Doing the horizontal greased-weasel tango? Filling the gas tank? Parallel parking?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” His euphemisms really are hysterical, though. “She’s taking her driver’s test soon.”

“Whatever you say.”

I better get to the reason I called. “So, are you free to get together tonight for drinks?” Unless he says “yes,” I’m keeping who’s joining us to myself.

“Damn, no can do. I have some personal training sessions scheduled at my old gym.”

Part of me is relieved I didn’t have to explain Emilie to him, while the other is disappointed because I would’ve loved to have seen his reaction when she floated through the door. I bet all the cocky would have disappeared. “That’s okay. I knew I was calling at the last minute.”

Our conversation continues as he tells me all about the Summer Competition. It’s good he was there. He did a better job at meeting with the members than I would have. Before we disconnect, he suggests that I give David a buzz.

Glancing around the reception area, Emilie is nowhere to be seen. Might as well make that call. After pleasantries, I ask about the Summer Competition.

My brother-in-law’s voice sounds spent. “The competition was really good. Everyone upped their game.” He coughs. “I told them about the sale after it was over and introduced Zak. They want to meet you. They’re arranging a welcome party for Friday, if that’s okay with your schedule.”

I close my eyes. “I’d rather just take over without too much fanfare.”

“I know you’re more of a behind-the-scenes guy, but they asked. We’re a family here.”

Family isn’t a popular vocabulary word in my book, but I know the gym members helped him get through the worst days. “What time?”

“Seven.”

My thoughts stray to Ems. Before I can select the proper words, they tumble from my mouth. “I’m sort of seeing someone. Think it would be okay if I brought her?” I press my palm to my forehead.

“It’s going to be your gym. You don’t have to ask me.” He pauses. “Although I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman you’ve dated.” Surprise is evident in his voice.

Closing my eyes, I reply, “We’ve just started.” Might as well put it all out there. “Listen, don’t spread the word, but it’s the model Emilie Dubois.” My breath catches. This is the first time I’m saying this out load to another soul.

“Well, if she’s caught your fancy, I can’t wait to meet her.”

Gotta hand it to David, he didn’t even flinch when I said her name. I disconnect the call shortly after my admission.

In only two weeks, he’ll be moving to Charleston and I’ll be taking over the gym. Which means I only have fourteen days left as Ems’s bodyguard. Then she’ll be going all over the world with someone else. Exactly as it should be.

Then why did I just tell my brother-in-law that I’m dating her?