Hostage (Bodyguard #1)(38)

Connor began to understand Alicia’s plight. The White House was as much a prison as a home. No wonder she was desperate to escape the perpetual shadow of the Secret Service. She was like a bird trapped in a gilded cage.





Connor had never arrived at school in such style. Cushioned by soft leather seats and comforted in air-conditioned luxury, he and Alicia were driven through the Washington downtown traffic right up to the steps of Montarose School’s main building. After a brief surveillance sweep by Secret Service, the limo doors unlocked and he and Alicia were ushered from the car like movie stars.

‘We’ll collect you at 1500 hours,’ said the broad-shouldered agent with a courteous smile.

‘As always, Kyle,’ Alicia replied, waving him goodbye.

Kyle, as Connor had discovered, was the primary bodyguard in the First Daughter’s protection team. He was also one of the few select agents to be aware of Connor’s role – and, surprisingly, the most receptive to it. Upon being introduced, Kyle had taken the time to explain the team’s key security procedures and action-on drills. He’d even covered details such as the small hexagonal lapel badges all Secret Service agents wore. These were a security measure; their colour routinely changed to reduce the likelihood of infiltration by an outsider.

As Connor stepped from the limo, Kyle gave him a subtle nod as if to say, Over to you now.

Connor knew he wasn’t being left entirely alone in his close-protection duties. The grounds of the private school were security-patrolled and cordoned off with high fences. Also the Secret Service agents would be stationed just a short distance away throughout the day. But, that said, Alicia’s immediate safety was now in his hands.

Connor followed Alicia up the steps into the main foyer. The corridors were packed with students.

‘Alicia!’ cried a voice and three girls came running over, just as Connor finished signing in at reception.

They all embraced and kissed each other’s cheeks.

An African American girl with a bundle of frizzy hair and a diamond-white smile glanced over Alicia’s shoulder. ‘Is that the English boy you were talking about last night?’

Alicia nodded.

‘Cute,’ she whispered to her friends and they giggled.

Connor offered an embarrassed smile. ‘Hi there.’

‘Oooh,’ sighed a girl with cheerleader looks and long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. ‘Say something else.’

Connor frowned in puzzlement. ‘Like what?’

‘Anything.’

Connor shrugged. ‘It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?’

The girl clapped her hands in delight. ‘I just love that English accent,’ she cooed. ‘I’m Paige. You can talk to me like that all day.’

‘And I’m Grace,’ said the black girl, dazzling him with her smile.

Alicia urged her other friend forward. ‘This is Kalila,’ she said, introducing an Arab girl with olive skin and almond eyes, who wore a light purple hijab headscarf.

‘Hello,’ she said, her voice soft as a breeze.

‘Hi,’ replied Connor. ‘Are you all in Alicia’s class?’

The girls nodded.

‘Connor’s joining our class for the rest of term,’ explained Alicia.

‘Cool!’ said Grace. ‘You can sit next to me.’

Alicia’s eyes flashed her friend a good-natured warning. ‘Connor can sit where he wants.’

‘But there’s a spare seat right beside me,’ replied Grace innocently.

Connor looked to Alicia. ‘Erm, where will you be sitting?’

‘I’d be right in front of you.’

‘Well, that sounds fine,’ he replied casually. In fact, the positioning was perfect. From the perspective of a bodyguard, he could protect her back if necessary, observe any threat approaching from the front and easily grab her to provide body cover or escape in the event of an emergency.

Alicia’s school bag buzzed and she pulled out her mobile to read the text message.

‘Hey, that’s a neat phone cover!’ said Paige.

Alicia grinned, pleased that one of her friends had noticed. ‘It’s a present from Connor.’

‘Lucky you, that’s a limited edition Armani!’ Grace exclaimed, admiring the red butterfly logo.

The girls crowded round to have a better look.

‘Just a thank-you gift,’ explained Connor, worried they’d read too much into it. But the girls were more interested in comparing phone covers and lucky charms.

The school bell rang for class.

‘Come on,’ said Alicia, grabbing her bag and looking at Connor. ‘First lesson’s history. If you can survive this, you can survive anything!’





History wasn’t one of Connor’s favourite topics, but the lesson was made even more challenging by the double life he was leading. Protecting the President’s daughter meant he had to be on constant alert – Code Yellow. But that was hard to maintain when a teacher was asking questions and there was class work to be done. It was only his first day and Connor already felt like he was performing a constant juggling act with his attention.

The open window. The teacher. The other students. Alicia. The unanswered workbook on  his desk. The person passing in the corridor …