The Bodyguard: A BWWM Bad Body Romance(63)

The tradeoff was supposed to happen tomorrow. One more day until she was back with him.

If he was truthful with himself, Solomon could hardly remember a time without Juliet. From the first moment he saw her sing, he knew he wanted her. That he had to make her his. When she began to drift away from him, he had only forced her closer. Until he was all she knew. He needed her...she’d never understood that.

But he would make her understand if it was the last thing he did.

Though everything had already been arranged, Solomon had one last trick up his sleeve. He left his makeshift office, closing the door behind him, before withdrawing a small piece of crumpled paper from his pants pocket.

He hesitated only a moment before dialing the number.

**

Juliet hadn’t slept much in the past forty eight hours. She was over the moon that Simmons had decided to allow her to help with the operation, but that wasn’t enough to temper her worry that Solomon was inflicting irreparable damage upon Hank. She tried to tell herself that he wasn’t an amateur - that he must have been prepared for this possibility.

But that didn’t take away the nausea that lingered in the pit of her stomach. She knew Solomon better than any of the men around her. She knew exactly what he was capable of. Which meant that her anxiety was far more justified.

The hotel room was bustling around her. She didn’t think they’d had a quiet moment since they arrived. The agents on duty slept in shifts, but five were always awake to maintain a tight perimeter around the hotel. She herself had only snatched a few naps here and there. Considering what Simmons had asked her to do, that wasn’t too surprising. They were going to try to pull a one-two on one of the most paranoid men in the business. To be completely honest, Juliet wasn’t completely sure what Simmons planned would work, and she’d told him so.

His only answer had been for her to have faith. He reiterated to her that he’d been doing this a long time, and he had a near hundred percent success rate. Near.

Of course, Juliet’s mind was filled with all that might go wrong. Solomon could get spooked halfway through the exchange and smell a rat. He might decide that he didn’t want her half as much as he wanted and simply shoot Hank to rid himself of the liability. They could be sitting here, idle, while Hank’s body was being dumped in a river somewhere…

The thought was enough to bring panic roaring back to the forefront of her mind. Juliet stood from the bed, rushing to the bathroom to shut the door behind her. When she gazed at herself in the mirror, the dark circles under her eyes stood out starkly against her chocolate skin. Her curls were a mussed mess and her lips were chapped and cracked. She looked an absolute mess - but Juliet had never cared less about herself.

All she could think about was Hank.

Hank, who had slowly opened up to her and no one else. The brusque, gruff, foul-mouthed man who had saved her from herself.

Once upon a time - half an age ago - Juliet thought herself in love with Solomon. That love had quickly revealed itself to be nothing more than childish infatuation. The moment the man showed his real colors, Juliet wanted nothing more than to get away. She simply hadn’t been able to.

What she felt for Hank was completely different. As their weeks together had passed, she tried to prepare herself to give him up. Told herself that what was between them was only physical. She would always appreciate how Hank had helped her, but she’d be able to leave him scott free the moment they captured Solomon. Now, she knew better.

She felt far more for Hank than she ever had for Solomon. Juliet still counted herself sheltered in the ways of the world, but she knew that she’d only been lying to herself. Hank was more than just a lay. More than a friend and confidante...he had become her world. The realization was both frightening and exhilarating all at once - even more so when she came to grips with the fact that she might lose him.

Backing against the tile wall behind her, Juliet slid onto the floor, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t want to cry. God knew she’d been doing far too much of that lately, it wasn’t going to help Hank in any way, shape, form or fashion. She needed to muscle up and get ready for what was coming. Make sure that she did everything in her power for the operation to run smoothly.

She was bracing herself to leave the bathroom when her phone buzzed in her pocket. For a moment, Juliet wondered who the hell could be calling her. The only people who had her cell phone number were Agents - and they were all outside in the hotel room.

All except Hank.

Juliet fumbled for the phone so quickly she almost dropped it. When she finally answered, her tone was breathless, stomach clenched with wary hope. “Hank?”

The three seconds that passed before she got an answer could have been a lifetime. But the voice that finally spoke wasn’t Hank’s.

“Hello, mi amor.”

Juliet inhaled sharply, her chest tightening. In response, Solomon merely chuckled. “Expecting someone else, I think.”

She steeled herself, taking a deep breath. This man had already taken far too much from her. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of taking anything else.

“What do you want, Solomon?” Her voice held only the slightest hint of a tremor. In that, she surprised even herself.

“Now that’s a tone I’ve never heard you take with me, dulce. I’m wounded.” Somehow, Juliet doubted he was as wounded as she’d been when he shot her two fucking times. “Don’t you miss me even a little?”