Billionaire Bodyguard 1 : Billionaire Bodyguard(42)

An unacceptable answer, so she'd taken classes sporadically. Some online when available, a full load when he was out of the country on assignment. She'd also taken a job on the military base as a facilitator instructing new recruits on social aspects of military life, which Trevor grudgingly permitted. If he'd known she could translate that into a well-paying career as a corporate trainer, he never would've allowed it. She'd used those part-time funds to pay for courses in cash and rented a mailbox at the community college so no paper trail led to her. When she finally completed her degree, the sense of accomplishment was indescribable.

Except, she'd made a terrible miscalculation. She'd canceled the mailbox at school too early. Trevor came home one blistering summer afternoon for lunch and intercepted the mail the day her diploma arrived at their house. He opened the package, found out what she'd done behind his back, and flew into a rage. He shredded her diploma in front of her, screaming mad, and then shoved it down the garbage disposal until it was pulp. That wasn't the only thing he'd destroyed that day.

They both knew it was only a piece of paper. The real damage was already done. She'd lied, and he never let her live it down. Her life became a prison of suspicion and misery, anger and violence.

A year to the day of receiving her diploma, she found the last shreds of courage to leave him. There were some things Trevor could never take away from her, including her education. She'd packed her bags and filed for divorce. She only wished she could say she'd never looked back. Unfortunately, for the past four years Trevor made that wish impossible.

She glanced at Logan. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Absorbed in study, he shook his head. "I'm good."

Leaning over the aisle, she read the page header. "Are you sure I can't quiz you on 'The Decade of Terror After 9/11'?"

"It's more frightening than fascinating. Not what you'd call quizable."

She fidgeted. "I'm no engineer, but if there's something I should know to do a better job-"

"You're exactly what I need," he stated. "You know my system. You have the demonstration skills I don't and the language skills I never will. Bring those things to the table, that's all I ask."

"I can do that." She hoped she'd accomplish her vow to get him this contract.

"Which reminds me." Setting the tome aside, he withdrew something from his suit coat pocket. "Here."

He handed her a little black box. She stared at it dubiously in the palm of her hand. "What's this?"

"Insurance."

Wary, she pried open the velvet box. Her eyes flew wide. A diamond the size of her thumbnail sparkled like a disco ball. "Cripes, Logan!" She snapped the box shut. "Is it real?"

He slanted her a look. "What do you think?"





 


"Take it back." She held it away from her. "I don't want it."

"Just put it on."

"Why would you purchase such a thing?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop reading into things."

"It looks an engagement ring."

"Trust me, when I ask a woman to marry me I'll know the answer is yes."

"Why do you want me to wear it?"

"I told you, insurance. In case you get morning sickness in the middle of the presentation. And I have to explain why you ran out of the room abruptly."

"It's not so bad," she insisted. "I can control it."

"That's not what my sister tells me. She says it sneaks up on you out of nowhere. Dizziness, too. Especially after air travel."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"Two. But only Stephanie talks to me about that stuff."

That explained a lot. His protective instincts had become embedded through years of honing. "Your concern is touching," she admitted, "but unnecessary." She didn't want him to see the part of her that melted.

"Humor me." He dropped all pretenses. "The Suits on Capitol Hill have distrust down to an art. Maybe because they earn a living speaking half-truths and making promises they probably won't keep. Regardless, if you show signs of pregnancy and you don't at least have a ring to show for it, that typecast can influence their decision."

The idea was ridiculous, totally outdated. "Single mothers make up a hefty chunk of their constituencies."

"These aren't just American politicians. There's top military men, ambassadors, security heads. They want proof of stability in my company and employees. It's subtle, but it's part of the game you have to play."

"Hardly fair," she muttered.

"All's fair in war and politics."

As she slowly opened the box again, the enormous diamond caught the sunlight through the oval window and nearly blinded her. "What if I lose it?" she asked nervously.