could go on, but what was the point?
It wouldn’t get the job done, and the job was the only thing that mattered.
‘Please will you reconsider?’ he said persuasively. ‘Your father was most insistent.’
For a moment she looked undecided, then she waved a hand. ‘All right. Lead the way Just Plain Royce. We can’t keep my father waiting, now, can we?’
The journey to Atwood Hall was completed in silence. Royce tried to make polite conversation several times, but Shara’s monosyllabic answers eventually forced him to give up.
When they reached the two-storey sandstone house Shara headed straight for her father’s study. She pushed the door open without knocking.
Royce followed her in.
She stopped in the middle of the room then swung around to face him. ‘Where is he?’
Royce folded his arms. ‘On a plane to New York.’
Her mouth dropped open. ‘Then what was all that crap about my father wanting to see me?’
He stared back at her calmly. ‘I never said anything about your father wanting to see you. All I said was that he asked me to bring you home. Which he did …’ He paused for a heartbeat. ‘About thirty minutes before he left for the airport.’
The silence that filled the room prickled at the back of his neck.
Shara’s thick lashes dropped down to shield her expression.
Royce didn’t feel guilty about the minor deception. Gerard had warned him that Shara was unlikely to co-operate. You had to treat uncooperative ‘principals’—which was the industry term for the person you were protecting—in much the same way a lawyer would treat a hostile witness.
With a firm hand and any tactic you could lay your hands on.
If keeping Shara safe meant bending the rules a fraction and allowing her to jump to the wrong conclusion then so be it. He’d do what he had to do—an attitude which had contributed in no small measure to his success.
Finally Shara looked up. ‘Why? Why did my father want you to bring me home?’
‘He didn’t think going to the club was a good idea and I happen to agree with him.’
Her cheeks reddened, although he couldn’t tell whether it was from embarrassment or anger. ‘I don’t care what you think. What I do, and when I do it, is none of your business.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. Everything you do from now on is very much my business.’
She frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means that while your father is overseas I will be looking after you.’
Shara blinked, frowned, and blinked again. ‘I don’t need looking after.’
‘No? That’s not the way I understand it.’
‘Well, I don’t care what you understand. I’m a little too old for a babysitter, don’t you think?’
‘I’m not a babysitter. I’m a bodyguard.’
‘Babysitter. Bodyguard.’ She waved a hand through the air. Her breasts jiggled. Royce tried not to notice but failed miserably. ‘It’s all the same to me. Either one is completely unnecessary.’
Although Royce didn’t particularly like what he was hearing, he had no objection to Shara speaking her mind. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was someone saying one thing to his face and then saying—or doing—the exact opposite behind his back.
‘Well, your father disagrees,’ Royce said calmly.
‘I—’
Royce cut her off. ‘You’re wasting your breath. Gerard warned me that this would be your attitude and he said to tell you that while you’re living under his roof you’ll follow his rules.’
Her humiliation was complete.
Shara stared at the tips of her red-varnished toenails as if her life depended upon it. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes but she blinked them away.
She had no intention of bursting into tears. That would only add to her humiliation.
Right now all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist.
It was a feeling she knew all too well. But she fought against it. If there was one thing the last twelve months had taught her it was not to give in to feelings of helplessness. She had to be strong and stand up for herself.
It didn’t matter how many times she got knocked down. She had to pick herself up, brush herself off, and try again.
So she straightened her shoulders, dragged in a breath, and instead of avoiding eye contact lifted her head and deliberately looked Just Plain Royce directly in the eye.
His face was expressionless. She had no idea what he was thinking and frankly she didn’t care.
She waved a hand through the air. ‘Well, Mr Just Plain Royce, I’m out of here.’
He folded his arms across his impressive chest. ‘And where, pray tell, are you planning on going?’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘That is none of your business!’
‘Correction. As I said, where you go and what you do is my business.’ His tone was determined. ‘My job is to protect you. It will help if I know where you’re going at all times.’
Her already straight shoulders straightened some more. ‘My father may have hired you, but I have no desire for a bodyguard. You can do what the hell you like, but don’t expect any help from me!’
A look that was part resignation, part irritation flashed across his face before his expression hardened. ‘Be warned. I intend doing my job, with or without your co-operation. It will be easier on both of us if you work with me, but it’s not entirely necessary. If you want to act like a rebellious teenager then go right ahead. I won’t stop you.’
Shara would have laughed except it wasn’t really funny. She’d been a well-behaved, follow-the-rules, obedient teenager. A real goody-two-shoes, in fact.
Twelve months of marriage to Steve Brady had shown her that being meek and biddable had its drawbacks—big-time!
She’d emerged from the dark tunnel of that period a very different person from the one who’d entered it.
She crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow. ‘If you’re trying reverse psychology on me then it won’t work. I’m a grown adult, able to decide when and where I go without reporting in to somebody else.’
His dark eyes glinted. ‘Are you? An adult, that is? If so, then prove it.’
She frowned. ‘And how am I
