My Escort

Forsaken wife

"Thank you," Red says and slowly we head upstairs. It's almost dark as I stare outside through the window while dropping my bag on the bed. The room isn't big, probably the size of my walk-in-closet at home.

Furnished in wood, old and rough, nothing is fancy as I'm used to. But it doesn't matter, because I feel more at ease than at home. I sit on the bed, cross-legged, and slowly take off my boots. Red has been busy inspecting everything in the room.

He’s checked the door, the windows, and even the ceiling. I can’t hold my smile at his ever-serious face that calls for my curiosity all the time. "Does it work?" I ask him. He is now checking the old school TV.

"I don't think so," he answers, frowning his brows. I chuckle. All I need is shower and a very good rest. But wait, how am I so easy to forget that I'm spending the night here, in the same room with my bodyguard? My gaze finds him immediately.

Why am I freaked?

I instantly avert my gaze as he looks at me.I think I'm turning nuts at the thought of my night to come. A shower! I need a shower right now to regain my senses.

"Um, I'll be in the bathroom." I get up. "Okay." Red nods.

Thankfully the bathroom is neat and clean enough, its white tiles stainless. I'm very sensitive when it comes to this. I waste no time to whip my dress off. What a day!

A yawn escapes me.

The shower doesn’t start. What the f**k! I glower as I try to c**k it with all my strength. Does it even work? God, what is this place! Again I try to open the faucet, only to end up highly frustrated.

"Damn it!" I yell loudly. "Everything okay?" I hear Red asking right behind the door, and I'm still frowning. "Madam?" he calls and I roll my eyes at the name. I told him not to call me that, haven't I? Ugh!

"Madam?" Red repeats and I decide to respond, but my voice doesn't come out

when the door bursts open. He flings in.

"Mad—" He pauses when his eyes land on my half-naked body, a pair of nude lace bralette and its marching briefs covering my precious reserves.

Immediately he casts his gaze away, astonished. I smile indulgently. Well, I'm an ex-model. Plenty of catwalks in lingerie have made me so bold and confident in my own skin. I feel normal.

"I didn't know you're undressed. Sorry." Muttering his apology, Red tries to leave. "Can you check if the shower works?" I casually grab the towel from the wall-

installed cabinet and wrap it around my body.

"I tried but it doesn't open."I glance at him. Reluctantly, Red turns around.

Finding my body covered, relief seems to be crossing his face as he exhales a deep breath. Oh boy! I press my lips together to stifle a laugh. He’s cute.

"Let's see," says Red while clutching the faucet, and I move aside. His sinew arms tense as he tries to ease the c**k, which turns successful in a blink of an eye.And the cold water from the shower cascades unannounced down on me.

I jump abruptly, startled, only to land onto Red's arms. "Ah!" I squeal.

He holds me deftly by the waist, my head tipped back as I was definitely going to slip and fall down. Jesus! I feel my breath quickening, a mixture of fright and something else I can't tell. His eyes.

His eyes are staring tempestuously at my face, a dark and ardent gleam clouding them as he scowls. His gaze slowly glides down to my breasts, devouring the swell beneath the fabric of my designer bra. "Red . . .” I breathe his name; my body melts at his touch, his hefty grip around me. “I—“ My skin burns at the heat surging in my blood.

My desire over him feels palpable by now, and everything else becomes wanton. I can't hold it; I need him. But does he? His hard, scowling face leaves me in the dark . . . the green light depends entirely on him.

And all of a sudden, with his chest rising and falling in a new design, Red whispers, "Mia . . ." His voice is deep, hoarse, and transfixed.

He called my name. He just called my name, didn't he? It's quite inexplicable how this makes me feel; I'm floating in clouds as my entire body lightens in his tantalizing hold. "Say it again," I breathe raggedly, my eyes and Red's locked tightly. "My name . . . Say it again," I plead.

"Mia . . ." Red repeats like a docile servant, tugging the stubborn strands of my hair that frames my face.

Lord, I melt when his strong fingers graze on my skin, the flames of his blazing ember eyes burning my every resolution to stay indifferent at his presence.

Nothing seems to exist as his lips near mine, gently, a scowl on his face as though he's on the stuff battle between his uttermost desire and decorum.

Kiss me, please. Oh f**k, what am I thinking of? I'm a married woman! I may have a crooked husband but I'm still branded as his and this shouldn't happen! But why do I crave for Red?

I'm impatiently waiting for his lips to possess mine, to kiss me deeply with any vehemence portrayed in his eyes full of exciting, venereal desire.

But Red suddenly snaps out of this salacious spell and pulls back. "I'm sorry," he says while tugging me into a balanced stance. What? "The shower works now. I'll be outside."

He frees my body and I feel bereft. "You—" I open my mouth to foolishly protest his attempt to leave, and my heart is in pain as he looks back at me with a hard frown. His face is painted with remorse.

He's obviously regretting for what he was about to do; for almost kissing me. I ought to understand him, I know this much, but strangely I don't want to. I feel rejected. "Alright. Thanks," I mutter,

sibilantly. He leaves without looking back. "Oh God."

I lean recklessly against the cold tiled-wall, my palms on my burning cheeks. I feel hot and cold at the same time, angered and shortchanged. What's happening? Why am I angry at this lost moment? My heart beats rapidly as fear engulfs me.

Am I falling for my bodyguard?

No, it can't be. I'm just physically attracted to him. He's an irresistible man, that's all.

"Right?" I breathe like a fool, convincing my heart to learn some restraints. I anticipated my shower to be calm and relaxing, but it turns out the contrary. I

can't believe I'm more perturbed of Red's reaction rather than my serious unsolved

problems.

You can't fall for him, Mia. I sigh heavily while rubbing my soaked hair.

The shower is off and it's time I step out. I quickly pluck the towel and wrap it around my nude body. Red is my bodyguard and whether I like it or not I am still married to Patrick Kingston— the man who wouldn't hesitate killing him— if he ever learns of my altered feelings. Red is out of the room as I return.

I'm glad because I'm not capable of facing him with confidence right away. It's already dark and I should probably get to bed. But do I have anything to wear? I didn't bring clothes as I've got a full closet in my country house.

Well, this shirt dress will have to suffice as uncomfortable as it may be. Being Mrs. Red is harder than I thought. I feel like I'm a forsaken wife. A stupid laughter lurches out of my lips as I dry myself.

Maybe after a good sleep my psyche will regain its senses.

I'm lying in bed and my cellphone has got a couple of missed calls from Detective Lawrence, and Anne, my friend. There is one from Patrick. He must be on the plane and I'm grateful.

I return Detective Lawrence’s call. "Hi, Mrs. Kingston. I'm sorry to bother you once again," he begins with his feigned good manners.

He was quite rude during our first interrogation, until he learned who I was. "It's alright. Do you have any news?" I try to be polite.