Page 7 of The Bodyguard’s Innocent Obsession (His Obsession #3)

Arabella

By the time we pull back into the estate, the sun is already high enough to cast long shadows across the driveway.

It feels strange to be home again. Familiar, but…

different now. The weight of everything that happened last night clings to me like a second skin; what almost happened with the intruder, what did happen between Lachlan and me.

The way I fell asleep tangled in his arms, my body aching in the best kind of way.

Lachlan cuts the engine, then gets out without a word. I expect him to head straight inside, but instead, he comes around to my side. Opens my door for me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like I’m his girl and this is just what he does.

It’s a simple gesture, but one that makes my heart flutter all the same.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, holding out a hand.

I take it, letting him help me out of the car, even though I don’t really need it. But it’s nice. Warm. Steady.

He doesn’t let go of my hand right away. Just looks down at me with this softness in his eyes that makes my chest ache.

“You should get some rest,” he says, voice low and gentle. “You didn’t exactly get much sleep last night.”

The teasing edge in his tone makes my face heat, but then he leans in and kisses me slow and deep, like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth. Like he wants me to feel everything he’s not quite saying.

When he finally pulls back, my legs feel a little unsteady.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Gotta check in with the others and I want to question the guy we caught.”

I nod, though my throat feels tight. “Okay.”

He presses one last kiss to my forehead and then turns to go. I watch him as he heads toward the east wing, tall and broad and purposeful, and something tugs inside me. Like a string pulled taut between us, stretching thinner and thinner with every step he takes away.

I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold, and turn toward the house.

The silence inside feels different now. Heavier.

I climb the stairs slowly, every step muffled by the thick carpet and the soft weight of Lachlan’s too-big clothes hanging off my body.

I hadn’t had any clean clothes with me, so I’d had to borrow some of Lachlan’s from his bag.

His scent clings to the sweatshirt, and I breathe it in without even thinking.

My bedroom is just how I left it. The bed is neatly made. The curtains are still drawn back to let the morning sun spill across the floor. My phone sits on the nightstand, face down where I tossed it last night before everything turned chaotic in so many ways.

I hesitate in the doorway for a second, then let out a breath and walk in.

I tug off the sweatshirt first, letting it fall across the foot of my bed, and strip out of the sweatpants next.

As much as I love wearing his clothes, I want something that will be easier to move in.

I will be keeping them, though, so I can wear them on nights we can’t be together.

My chest aches a little at the thought of us ever being apart. So I focus on finding clean clothes.

I cross to my dresser and pull out a pale blue tank top and a pair of jersey shorts. Clothes that feel like me. Not the girl who watched her bodyguard in the shower. Not the girl who offered him everything in the dim light of a hotel room. Just… Arabella.

Once I’m dressed, I pull my brush through my hair slowly, trying to untangle both the knots and the thoughts in my head.

Everything’s changed. And yet I still feel like I’m floating in the middle of it. Like it hasn’t all quite hit me yet.

The threat last night. Lachlan calmly taking control and whisking me away to safety without hesitation. The way his hands felt on my skin. The way he whispered my name like I was everything he’d been waiting for.

I didn’t know it could feel like that. Or that I could feel like this.

As I sit down on the edge of the bed, my phone lights up with a sudden buzz. A second later, it rings. The sharp sound slices through the quiet and makes me jump.

The number on the screen is unfamiliar. No name.

My heart stutters.

I stare at it for a beat too long before reaching for it, my fingers suddenly cold and clumsy. I swipe to answer and lift it to my ear.

“Hello?”

There’s a pause. Then a voice. Deep. Gruff. Cold.

“Don’t say a word. I’ve got your father. If you want him to live, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you.”

My blood turns to ice.

“W-what?” I whisper, but my voice comes out broken and barely there.

“I said don’t speak.” The voice sharpens like a blade. “Just listen. You’re going to get in your car and drive to this address.” A pause. Then numbers. A street name. “Alone. No security. No phone calls. No games.”

I swallow, but it’s like there’s glass in my throat.

“We’re watching the house,” the voice continues. “If anyone follows you, your daddy’s dead. You understand?”

My knees nearly give out.

“I... I understand,” I manage to say.

“Good girl.” Then the line goes dead.

I stand there for a second, completely still. Like maybe if I don’t move, none of this will be real.

But my heart is hammering and I can’t breathe and my hands are shaking so hard I nearly drop the phone.

Dad.

Oh my god. They have my dad.

I need to tell Lachlan.

No. No, I can’t.

They said they are watching the house. If I tell Lachlan, he won’t let me leave. At least, not without him, and that would put Dad’s life in even more danger.

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. Think, Arabella. Think.

I dart to my desk and grab a sticky note, scrawling the address with a trembling hand. The letters are barely legible. My whole body is shaking.

I stuff it in the pocket of my shorts and grab my phone, silencing it completely. No buzzing. No calls. I can’t risk it.

I tiptoe down the hallway like I’m a thief in my own home. Every step feels like it echoes. Every creak of the floorboard makes me flinch.

When I reach the front hall, I snatch a random set of keys from the hook for one of the spare cars and edge toward the garage entrance.

I glance toward the east wing. Toward where Lachlan is. He’s probably mid-interrogation right now. Focused. Dangerous. Protecting me.

And I’m about to disappear without telling him a word.

My chest aches.

I’m sorry, Lachlan.

I’m sorry.

I slip through the door into the garage, slide into the car, and turn the key. The engine purrs to life.

My hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

And then I pull out of the garage and onto the road, heart pounding like a warning bell.

I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to get my dad back.