9

9
Six

I waited patiently by the door, the ticking of my watch echoing in my ears as I counted each passing second.

Arabella was supposed to be out here by now. I mean, how long did it take to go to the restroom?

I did mental mathematics, five minutes? Ten? There was no telling what women were up to inside the restroom, but she had taken unusually long.

I drew closer, my eyes flickering to the ladies’ sign on the door, the only thing preventing me from barging in.

“Arabella,” I called softly.

When I didn’t get an answer, my voice became louder. “Arabella!” But there was no response. My heart, normally steady, began to drum anxiously, beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, wondering how long I should wait before taking action. I counted down in my head, one, two, three, four…

After what felt like an eternity, I couldn’t stand the silence any longer. I pushed open the door with a frustrated grunt. “Son of a…” slipped out before I could catch it, and I stormed into the hall.

The space was brightly lit, but there was no one in sight. I took a quick peek underneath the stalls; they were empty. My gaze darted to the large window at the far end of the room, and I rushed toward it.

My heart pounded as I peered out, half-expecting to find Arabella’s body sprawled across the concrete many stories down. I clenched the ledge and sucked in a breath, thankful that she wasn’t. This princess would be the death of me…

Upon closer inspection, I could see that the window was perfectly scaled for someone agile enough to climb it. I let out a frustrated grunt and massaged my temples, the image of Arabella jumping out the window both thrilling and terrifying.

I sighed deeply and rushed back to the hall. Barely twenty-four hours into my job as a chaperone for the Capo’s bride, and I was already failing miserably. I wondered if my job would be a lot easier if the bride were anyone other than Arabella.

I began scanning the hall, my eyes darting from one corner to another, catching every movement in the crowd. Chaperoning Arabella was proving more challenging than I’d ever imagined.

I silently berated myself for what felt like a failure on my very first day of duty. How had I let her slip away? I should have known she was up to no good the moment she tried to ditch me.

As I weaved through the crowd, trying desperately not to appear frantic, I suddenly bumped into someone. I glanced up, half-expecting a stranger, but instead, I saw Katherine standing there with a wide, knowing smile.

“You again,” she said breezily, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as if our constant encounters were entirely casual.

“Hello, Katherine,” I replied, forcing a smile even though impatience bubbled beneath the surface. My eyes, however, betrayed me; they kept flitting over her shoulder, scanning the room for any sign of Arabella.

Katherine’s smile only widened. “We keep bumping into each other. This could be a sign,” she remarked in a cheery voice. “It’s got to mean something at least…” she said with a casual shrug.

The smart retort that I wanted to unleash, something like, “This is the first time we’re bumping into each other”—stuck on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I managed a quiet, “It is, isn’t it?” My voice was a mixture of sarcasm and amusement.

Before I could dwell on our banter, Katherine leaned in closer. “Listen, I’m organizing a little party later, nothing too wild, obviously, but…” She fluttered her lashes at me. “I’d love for you to come. I’ll send you an invite, it’s—”

But I was no longer listening because I had spotted Arabella being pulled away by a mean-looking man, Don Corleone. How could I forget this man? My heart skipped a beat.

“Excuse me for a moment, love,” I blurted, gripping her shoulders gently but firmly. “I have to check on Arabella.”

I pulled her aside, my eyes never leaving the crowd as I broke away from our brief conversation and dashed in Arabella’s direction.

I slowed down as I got closer, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention to myself. I followed them at a safe distance.

“Arabella!”

She jerked and turned around sharply.

I stared into those ocean-blue eyes. She blinked repeatedly and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Hello, Six…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I folded my arms across my chest.

She saw the look on my face and sighed. “Six, I can explain,” she began, walking up to me. “I have a perfect reason for this. I needed some air. I was feeling exhausted in there, and I needed to get some fresh air, so I took a walk…” She placed a hand on her chest. “I know I should have told you, I’m sorry I didn’t, but I—”

“I was waiting outside the restroom, Bella,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

The nickname threw her off, but she regained composure. “Yes…”

“There was only one exit door…”

“I…” she began but then exhaled.

“Do you have any idea how reckless that was, Arabella?”

She involuntarily shuddered.

I didn’t mean for my voice to be loud and harsh, but I was angry, and I needed her to know it.

“You could have fallen off that window and badly hurt yourself, or worse, died, Arabella. You could have died. I’d have had to tell the Capo that on the first day of my job as a bodyguard for his bride, she fell off a window…”

She shook her head and scoffed. “You know, for a moment there, I really thought you were genuinely worried for my safety, not just because of the Capo or the job you do for him.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You could have hurt yourself, Bella. You could have hurt yourself. How don’t you get tha—”

“Well, I didn’t!” she snapped. “Look at me…” she said with outstretched arms. “I’m unhurt. I wanted to walk and get some fresh air, alone. I knew you wouldn’t let me go out on my own, so I jumped the window. End of story!” She turned and started walking away.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her close until she was pressed up against me. I slipped an arm around her waist firmly. Her breathing was ragged, her face flushed, and she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I leaned closer to her ear. “Never do that again, Arabella. Am I clear?” My voice was a deep whisper.

The sizzling sexual tension between us was not my plan, but it was hard to be stern when she was so close, her scent tickling my nose.

Her breasts were pushed up against my chest, and my eyes lingered on her exposed cleavage.

I don’t know how long we stayed in that position, her in my arms, locking eyes, until she broke it. She yanked my arm away and stormed off.

I exhaled and ran a finger through my hair. “Arabella…” I muttered under my breath. “What are you doing?”