Thorne Princess(24)

This was stupid. The man was actively ruining my life, and all I’d done was a harmless prank to make his clothes smell bad. It was infantilizing.

I advanced toward his laptop, which was sitting on his nightstand, and flipped it open. It needed both a fingerprint and a password to allow access. Dammit. I put the laptop back on the nightstand, wondering if Ransom was having sex with another woman right at this moment, and flipped open his briefcase. There—voila—I finally found something interesting. Paperwork. About me.

I skimmed the pages, gulping as much information as I could—within reason. It listed Ransom’s weekly salary—wow—and the job description, including my father’s specific requests for him. My heart beat loudly in my chest. I could barely make out the words before I felt dizzy and clammy. I was about to shove the papers back into the briefcase when a steely, husky voice ricocheted over the walls like a bullet, piercing a gaping, painful hole in my back.

“Big mistake.”

Whirling around, I clutched the scissors in my fist and tried to duck beneath his arm to dash into my room. He caught me by the waist, scooping me like I was a toddler and positioning me back in front of him. I looked up at his face. His green eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His lips became flat with anger. His fa?ade of perfection remained in place, but his hair was tousled and his neck flushed.

Where were you?

What did you do?

Why do you look so glowy?

Best question of all—why do I care?

I fisted the scissors by the finger holes, aiming the blades for his thigh. He quickly caught the shears between his fingers, his gaze never leaving mine.

Shaking his head, he sighed. “We’re past this, surely.”

He pried the scissors from my hand, tossing them onto his nightstand behind me. I caught a glimpse of his palm. It was bloodied. I’d made him bleed. Somehow, I didn’t feel horrible about it. It was good to know he was flesh and blood after all.

“What are you doing in my room, Brat?”

I gulped, feeling my throat bob with a swallow. His face was close. Too close. Close enough that I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and the hint of cherry. My lips curled in revulsion and I shook all over. I wanted to spit in his face. He was giving me all this grief for my behavior and was hooking up with someone who used flavored lip gloss?

And he’d told Tara he had standards!

“Snooping, Random. What else?” I smiled casually, smoothing the fabric of his already ironed shirt. “I wanted to find out things about my new roomie.”

“And did you?” He swatted my hand away, his eyes dead and cold.

His body was flush with mine. My thighs brushed his knees. I felt his heat engulfing me. It shot a thrill through my spine. Never had I felt someone else’s warmth against my own like this.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to run away from a man. It made no sense at all. I hated men. Men, in general, were a threat to me. And this one had already proven he was capable of hurting me. But something about Ransom was unfamiliar. Maybe even a little surprising. Weirdly, I kind of got off on our hatred toward one another.

Inside the avalanche of chaos he brought into my life lived a measurement of safety. I knew he would never raise a hand to me. Conversely, he’d protect me from whatever harm might come my way.

“Yes.” I licked my lips, not moving an inch back, not cowering or showing him that he scared me. “I learned, for instance, that you’re hooking up with a twelve-year-old.”

“Dafuq?” he boomed. He looked disgusted…but also a little alarmed? Like I was onto him.

Dear God, please don’t make my bodyguard a pedo. I’d have to kill him, and I really don’t want that on my conscience.

I flicked my hair. “Who else would wear cherry-flavored lip gloss? C’mon, Random. Don’t make me alert the authorities.”

With that, I winked and tried to make my way out of his room. He caught my wrist, spinning me in place, baring his teeth ferally. It was the first time I’d seen him angry. Up until now, all he’d given me was his bored and disinterested version—even when he’d thrown me over his shoulder and tossed me in my room… I did not like angry Ransom.

“Listen here, Brat. This room is off-limits for you until our time’s up. Am I understood?”

“Will this be reciprocated?” I demanded.

“Will what be reciprocated?” he asked shortly.

“Will you stay away from my room, too?”

“I’m your fucking security!”

Oh, boy. He never dropped the F-bomb. I’d really hit a nerve tonight.

“You can secure me that closely outside of my safe haven,” I answered smartly. “I want some privacy here.”

“And I want a bearable client. Tough luck. I will enter your room whenever I feel it’s necessary, Princess. But let it be known—if you come in here uninvited, you’ll leave through the goddamn window.”

Threatening me with violence. That was pretty counterproductive to his role in my life. But I had a feeling he already knew that. He was full of bullshit. He’d never hurt me. I didn’t know how I knew. I just knew.

“Aw, too bad. I pegged you for someone with a little more self-control than that.”

Ransom bent down, his lips almost touching mine when he spoke. “Get out of here before I tell your father you tried to seduce your close protection officer.”