The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(37)



She was a smoky mix of Billie Holiday and Diana Ross, somewhere between deeply sensual and amazingly sophisticated, and Hank found himself hanging on her every word - even after the song was over. If he were an impulsive man, he might have thrown the door open and demanded she sing another song. As it was, he was in hot water already - barely dressed with his ear pressed to her door.

He could only imagine the scene that would ensue if Juliet came out at that exact moment.

When he thought back on that moment later, Hank would admit that he’d probably mentally jinxed himself. No sooner had he turned away, intent on slinking back to his room, then the door swung open.

He started so badly he almost lost his towel. Whirling, Hank froze in place at the sight of Juliet in the doorway, staring unabashedly at his mostly naked form. Color rose slowly in her cheeks and she opened her mouth to say something as her gaze met his. A beat of awkward silence passed between them in which Hank was reminded that she had one of the most gorgeous pairs of legs he’d ever seen. Said legs were exposed by a dress he’d never seen her wear before. It must have come in one of the numerous packages that had arrived at the cabin bearing her name.

It always amazed him how much women could shop. He’d probably been wearing the same jeans for three days. Juliet made those jeans look ragged with the pretty little red number she was wearing. It contrasted well with her dark skin - which only made him want to see more of said skin.

What would it be like to see her naked in the light of day?

“Were you...looking for something?” When she spoke to him, he slammed back to reality, doing his best to backtrack and avoid what promised to be a very obvious erection. He had never been good at improvising, and it was obvious that he’d been eavesdropping. There was no reason for him to be outside her door when his room was in the opposite direction.

Desperate to direct the conversation away from himself, Hank blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “That dress looks good on you.” He was supposed to be staying away from her. How the hell did he end up sneaking around outside her room?

“I...thanks.” Juliet glanced down at herself, her color deepening, before addressing him again. “It’s new. It’s weird I...I haven’t chosen my own clothes in so long I think I forgot what actually looks good on me.”

That had to be hard, considering that Hank was pretty sure Juliet would look good in a plastic bag. Like hell if he’d ever admit that though. “I was actually looking for a missing pistol part. Thought I might have left it in the kitchen but I scoured the damned thing from top to bottom and can’t find it. You been going through my stuff?” He meant the comment to be more off-hand than accusatory, but Juliet arched a brow, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, because I’m so fond of you biting off my head.” Shit. If he was going to keep his pride in tact he was going to have to get better at this sneaking around thing. Tugging his towel more tightly about his waist, Hank cleared his throat lowly.

“You might have taken it in there with one of your packages. I’m not head biting I’m just...asking.” It was a weak excuse at best, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to slink off with his tail between his legs. That had never been his style.

Juliet seemed to hesitate a moment before stepping away from the doorway. “Did you want to come in and check?”

Now he was stepping into dangerous territory. The smart thing to do would be to go back to his room and get dressed before indulging the damned charade he’d gotten himself into. But far be it from Hank to do anything rational.

Making sure that he had a firm grip on his towel, Hank brushed past her and into her room. Almost immediately, memories from the morning they’d spent together assaulted him. Juliet hadn’t made her bed and it would be easy enough to pretend that they’d spent time messing it up together. The entire space smelled like her and, perversely enough, the sight of a plain cotton bra slung over the back of a chair was almost enough to make him salivate.

What the hell was wrong with him?

“Only reason I’m in here is because you’re probably better than those two dunces outside at taking apart a gun.” He groused, doing his best to keep up the charade that had gotten him into the room in the first place. “Gotta cover all my bases.”

“Right.” Juliet sank down on the bed, obviously trying to hide an amused smile as she leaned across its length to take up her notebook. Hank made a show of pretending to look for the piece without seeming too intrusive...which was easier said than done. He wasn’t one to barge his way into women’s rooms - hell, the only intimacy he ever had with women was fucking them.

...But Juliet was different, somehow.

“You sing good.” He finally grunted, picking up a notebook on her desk to look under it. “I heard you. Outside.” Fuck, had he always been this articulate?

“Oh.” Juliet immediately flushed scarlet, looking pointedly out the window. “You heard that.”

“No need to get embarrassed,” he rebutted quickly. “Voice like that could take you places.”

“Ha.” Juliet’s reply came out in a bitter, one syllable sound of ironic amusement. “It never took me the places I wanted to go.”

Another reminder that Solomon had kept her locked up in a dangerous, gilded cage. Hank frowned, turning to face Juliet as he hitched the towel higher on his waist to preserve his modesty. “Not too late.”

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