There weren’t going to be any physical marks left on her body from what had just happened, but the wound Roman’s words had made inside her felt deeper than the bruises she’d taken from her fall in the park.
She already knew she’d be hearing I’m your bodyguard, not your boyfriend on repeat every time she closed her eyes. He’d said it as though he couldn’t imagine ever being with her. As though she were nothing more than an annoying client who refused to understand that he was off-limits.
When he’d swept her into his arms to dance so suddenly, it had felt like the most romantic thing ever to happen to her. He’d seemed overcome by passion, like a hero straight out of the romantic movies she streamed late at night after a hard day struggling with code.
Now, however, as she looked into his dark eyes and was unable to read even the slightest shred of emotion in them, she could see that he’d deliberately turned any warmth he might have felt for her to ice.
Like everyone, she’d had crushes over the years where she’d liked a guy and he hadn’t liked her back. But she’d always been able to brush off those rejections because they were from men who hadn’t meant anything to her.
Where Roman was concerned, however, she couldn’t figure out how to brush off rejection. Couldn’t keep her stomach from hurting when she thought about the way he’d jumped away from her, literally leaping in the opposite direction, not once but several times since they’d met.
“Suzanne, I hope I’m not interrupting.” She hadn’t realized Buck had walked over to them. “You’ve been the most popular dancer out here, but now that there’s a momentary break in your admirers, I was hoping I could steal you away from your bodyguard and convince you to dance with me.”
The very last thing she wanted to do was keep dancing. She wanted to go back to her father’s house and curl up in a little ball on her bed.
No. No. That wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t the kind of woman who fell apart over love. She wasn’t her mother, damn it.
Forcing a smile for the movie star, Suzanne said, “I’d love to dance with you, Buck.”
She hoped her words and her movements as she reached for Buck’s outstretched hand didn’t look as wooden as they felt. He was a nice guy, and he didn’t deserve to be a pawn while she tried to regain some of her self-worth. But sometimes, no matter how much you wanted to be rational and fair and nice, you just couldn’t pull it off.
She didn’t look at Roman as she let Buck move them deeper onto the crowded dance floor, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly he’d hurt her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Suzanne didn’t dance one song with Buck, she danced ten. Possibly more, since Roman lost count somewhere in the haze of jealousy that wrapped tighter and tighter around him every time Buck touched her or made her laugh. For well over an hour, Roman warred with himself over his urge to burst onto the dance floor and drag her away from the guy. But he couldn’t do that. Not because he was afraid of what it would do to his career prospects with anyone else at the wedding, but because he’d already hurt Suzanne enough. He wouldn’t embarrass her too.
As it was, he’d never forget the way she looked when he said, I’m your bodyguard, not your boyfriend. Every time he hurt her, it further reinforced how right he was to keep his distance. She deserved the true love Smith and Valentina had, not the emotional devastation that Roman had seen go down between his mother and father.
Over and over again, he reminded himself that Suzanne and Buck were just dancing. Since there was no way that Roman was going to let the movie star take things any further, for the rest of the evening he needed to shake off his irrational jealousy and focus on doing the job he’d been hired for.
At long last, Suzanne and Buck didn’t dance straight through to the next song. Instead, she pointed off in the direction of the restrooms, while Buck gestured toward the bar, obviously hoping she’d join him for drinks. When she nodded her agreement, Roman growled—loudly enough that he startled one of the nearby guests.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, clearly concerned at seeing one of the security guards so visibly upset.
“No, ma’am.” And there damn well wouldn’t be a problem as long as Buck didn’t try to ply Suzanne with alcohol so that he could make his move.
Roman kept a good dozen feet between himself and Suzanne as she headed off the dance floor, while making sure he never lost sight of her until she went into the ladies’ room. Though she was probably dying to get away from him at this point, he knew she wouldn’t go back on her promise not to sneak away during the wedding.