Guarding His Heart Read online

  It was his job to notice.

  As he got to the front door, he raised his hand to knock firmly. He’d been given keys already, of course, but he figured he should at least introduce himself before he went barging in.

  What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for the young, blond man who cautiously answered the door in response to his knock to be so familiar to him.

  Chapter Two

  Christian

  When Christian opened the door, he honestly had no idea who it was. Maybe a reporter, or worse, a paparazzo, who wanted nothing more than to shove a camera in his face and get him to do something embarrassing as a result.

  Those sorts of things were happening more and more often to him. So far, he’d been too wise to get into it with one of those jerks, but he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to control himself. He was an easygoing guy, but he was also not used to being in the spotlight all the time.

  Maybe he was getting used to it, because once, he would have just yanked the door open, assuming it was a friend or something. He was a bit more careful, opening the door just a crack without removing the chain, just in case.

  Hey, he was learning! How depressing that he had to.

  What he saw, though, or rather, who he saw, had him blinking in surprise. It was Mark. That oddly intense, quiet, enormous man that had saved his life earlier that day.

  The only question was, what was the man doing there?

  Thinking back, Christian was sure that he hadn’t given the guy his address. Why would he? Nor had he left Mark alone long enough to, say, check Christian’s wallet or anything.

  So what was his deal? Was he some sort of crazy stalker? Maybe he’d saved Christian’s life just because of that. Maybe he’d been following him …

  Christian snorted softly. It just wasn’t his style to be so paranoid, and besides, he wasn’t used to being the sort of person that anyone would bother stalking. Anyway, Mark hadn’t said or done anything to make Christian think he was stalking him. He hadn’t even seemed to recognize him.

  It had been nice, actually. He was still at the point where he could walk through the streets and mostly be left alone, but once he actually spoke to someone, chances were good they were going to recognize him. Mark hadn’t seemed to.

  “Uh, how did you find me? I didn’t give you my address,” Christian asked, just a little suspicious still.

  Mark was as huge as ever. Handsome, too, not that Christian noticed or anything. But he was enormous, with all of those muscles, that smooth, light brown skin. Intense dark eyes and a shaved head lent him an air of intimidation, too, though Mark hadn’t said or done anything to make Christian think he wanted to hurt him.

  Well, other than show up at his house unannounced.

  Mark looked surprised, though just for a second. One thing about him was that he didn’t seem to show his emotions very much. He seemed to pretty much always be under tight control, which was a good thing for Christian, he supposed. He could have been flattened by that car, otherwise.

  “I think I must have been given the wrong address,” Mark said, and his voice was just as Christian had remembered, rough and low and deep and quiet. The sort of voice that made one want to lean in to hear what it had to say, one that was not often, Christian would guess, loud, but which was somehow important. “I’m supposed to be reporting to work.”

  Christian frowned thoughtfully. He left the chain on the door, but stopped gripping the doorknob quite so tightly.

  “What do you do for work?” he asked, more curious than anything else. He really knew very little about this man. Plus, for whatever reason, he wanted to hear that voice talk to him just a little bit longer.

  Mark gave him a bit of a look that suggested that he was cautious himself, and then shrugged a little, as if to say what the hell.

  “I’m a bodyguard. I’m supposed to be protecting a musician.”

  Oh. Well. Suddenly, that made a lot more sense. Maybe. He wasn’t about to just open the door for this man or anything, but there was a very good chance, after the things that had happened due to Christian’s rise to fame, that Mark was, in fact, in the exact right place.

  “Wait there,” Christian directed, and then he shut the door. Immediately, he pulled out his phone and called his agent, who, for a wonder, picked up on the first ring. Funny how that happened, now that he was making the man a lot more money.

  “Why is Vin Diesel’s twin on my doorstep claiming to be my bodyguard?” Christian asked, without wasting any time on idle conversation. He’d learned pretty quickly that music professionals didn’t tend to have a lot of time for that.

  “Vin Diesel’s twin …? Oh, right. I forgot to tell you,” Christian’s agent sounded busy, but then, he always sounded busy. “I hired you a bodyguard. Mark Stuart. Check his ID before you let him in, though, just in case.” The guy snorted. “He does look a little like Vin, doesn’t he?”

  Christian frowned.

  “Wait. You hired me a bodyguard? I don’t need a personal bodyguard.” He knew that his band had security when they were at a show, or when they traveled. “Call him off. He’s enormous and scary.” And far, far too handsome.

  “You didn’t used to need a bodyguard,” the man conceded, “But you do now. You know the stuff that’s been going on as well as I do. Things have changed. You’re a big deal, and getting to be a bigger deal all the time.”

  One of the things that Christian liked about his agent was that he didn’t flatter him a lot. It was one of the reasons that he’d picked him when his band had suddenly found success after years of struggling. This guy told it like it was, there was no crap with him, so Christian didn’t take the comment as a compliment.

  “Ugh. I don’t need a bodyguard,” Christian argued. “I just need more security at my house. That’s it. Don’t freak out.”

  “I don’t have time to argue with you,” the man said, and in the background, Christian could hear that someone was trying to speak to him. “Just do it, okay? It’s part of being famous. The guy I’ve got for you, the agency says he’s a retired Navy SEAL. The agency itself has never had an incident, not in the entire time they’ve been opened, almost a hundred years. He’ll be good, and he’ll be discreet.”

  Christian sighed softly, rubbing at his temples. God. A bodyguard.

  “It would have been nice if you’d told me,” he said, but his voice was somewhat weak. He was going to have to give in on this, wasn’t he? Let himself be followed around all the time. Protected.

  Damn it, he was a man, all on his own. He could take care of himself. He didn’t need to be protected.

  “Sorry about that, kid,” the guy said, and then the line went dead, and Christian knew that this conversation was over. Oh, he could call and demand to speak to the guy again, but it wouldn’t change anything.

  For the time being, at least, he had a bodyguard. Who was, presumably, still waiting outside. Wonderful.

  Slowly, he opened the door again, tugging the chain free. He might as well let the guy inside, even as he tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do with a bodyguard.

  He couldn’t help but think this was like swatting a fly with a sledgehammer. Yeah, there had been incidents, but there was no doubt in Christian’s mind that Mark was very good at his job. Look at the way he’d yanked Christian out of the way of that oncoming car.

  “So apparently you’re my new bodyguard,” Christian said, looking up at Mark. Christian himself wasn’t a short man. He stood about six feet tall. But Mark was several inches taller, at least.

  Christian wasn’t used to feeling small, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

  “Why would you need a bodyguard?” Mark asked, arching one eyebrow. “Do you make a habit of getting almost hit by cars on a regular basis?”

  Christian would have smirked a little, if he’d been less worried about the situation. He could almost swear that was a joke. Well, that would be a first. They hadn’t known each other long, but Mark hadn’t loosened u
p much at all the entire time they’d been talking.

  “I guess I’m getting big, or whatever. My agent is worried. Last week someone broke in, and there have been a few creepy stalkers. Not a big deal, and no one bothered to consult me, but …”

  He broke off with a shrug. None of this was Mark’s fault, he knew, and he tried really hard not to be annoyed with him. Mark was just doing his job.

  “Anyway, come in, if you want.”

  Mark shook his head.

  “You don’t know for sure that I’m the bodyguard that’s been hired,” he told him firmly. “So you need to check my ID. I’ll do my best to keep you safe, but it would help me a lot if you’d be careful, too.”

  Christian flushed. He hated himself for it, but the way Mark talked to him, he felt suddenly like he was nothing more than a baby. A naughty, careless child, being chastised for bad behavior.

  What made it worse was that he remembered now that his agent had told him to check the guy’s ID. Which he was already holding out.

  “Mark Stuart,” Christian said thoughtfully. A former Navy SEAL. He’d had moments in his rise to success where he’d felt like an impostor, but never so much as he did in that moment. “Uh … I’m Christian. I guess you knew that already. Christian Roberts.”

  Like an idiot, he stuck his hand out for a handshake. This was hardly his normal social interaction, but he was a bit out of sorts, and the habit just kicked in.

  Mark took his hand and shook it firmly, his grip strong, his hand smooth and hot. He didn’t try to crush Christian’s fingers or anything, but there was obviously some crazy strength in the man’s body, even in his hands.

  They shook hands, and Christian looked up into Mark’s eyes, and he felt strange suddenly. There was something about this guy … but Christian shoved it away, because it didn’t make sense. He wasn’t into guys. He never had been. And even if he were, he wouldn’t be into someone who could break him apart like a twig, if he wanted to.

  “Okay, so come in,” Christian said, when their hands finally broke apart. “Uh, how does this work, exactly?”

  Mark shrugged.

  “Part of that is up to you,” he said seriously. He said most things in that same tone of voice, intense and focused, and, well, very serious. About everything. It was amazing to see him smile or even frown. “I need to be around you all the time, at least until this house has some seriously updated security. After that, I can find a place close to here, if you want, to be there whenever you want to go out. Or I could move in here.”

  The guy spoke in this completely calm tone, like he wasn’t proposing actually moving in with Christian. Like what he was saying was completely reasonable. Hell, it probably even was, but Christian hadn’t given much thought to how security worked. It was something his agent took care of.

  “Wow. You really need to be with me all the time?” Christian shook his head. That was intense. It wasn’t that he had anything against Mark. It was just that the whole situation was weird.

  “Look, let’s just hang out until my agent figures out that it’s fine. I’ll get some more security put into this place. Cameras and lights and stuff.” Christian realized, as he spoke, that he really had no idea what went into making a place secure. It just hadn’t been something that he’d been worried about.

  “It would be completely inappropriate,” Mark said, his tone faintly reproachful, “For me to ‘hang out’ with someone I’m supposed to be protecting.”

  Damn, this guy was hardcore. It was impossible to imagine Mark ever having a good time. Ever relaxing. This actually explained a lot about their first meeting. No wonder Mark had seemed to constantly be on edge.

  “Well, you’re going to have to be around me, aren’t you? That’s kind of your job.” Mark wandered over to the kitchen, and wasn’t really surprised when he turned around from getting a beer from the fridge only to find Mark right there. “Want a beer?”

  “No. I’m at work,” Mark said, and Christian frowned. This guy was judging him, wasn’t he? Asshole. It was just one beer, and it was after noon - Christian checked the clock. It was. Barely - and Christian was an adult, anyway.

  “Never stopped me,” Christian said lightly, which was true. He popped the top on his can of beer, then went back into the living room to drape himself over the couch. “So what’s the deal with this? Do you ever go away? Sleep? Anything?”

  Though he didn’t say so out loud, he partially just wanted to know if he would ever be able to relax without the pressure of those intense, large, surprisingly beautiful dark eyes on him.

  “I’m awake when you’re awake,” Mark said quietly. “I sleep when you sleep, as long as there’s not an emergency that requires me to be awake. But don’t worry. I’m very good at being visible to anyone that would hurt you, but invisible to you.”

  Christian wanted to snort softly. First off, he found that hard to believe. He was very aware that Mark was there. His skin was tingling all over in a way that he didn’t want to think about too much. More than that, though, he wasn’t sure how he understood how anyone could live the way Mark did.

  “Why would I want you to be invisible? You don’t have to be all, you know, professional with me. I’m just a guy.” Christian sipped at his beer, watching Mark thoughtfully over the edge of the can. “Besides, you’re not, like, bad to look at or anything.”

  It was a random, weird thing to say, and he knew it. It could have sounded flirtatious, though, of course, it wasn’t. It was just the truth. Christian didn’t have to be gay to notice that the guy was attractive. In an objective sort of way, of course.

  For just a second, Christian was pretty sure that he saw a hint of a smile on those full lips. The man acted like a robot, but he wasn’t, was he? He was a human, just like everyone else. And Christian could swear that he’d startled him.

  “Most of my clients have wanted to live their lives as normally as possible,” Mark said quietly. “I assumed you would be the same.” He paused, and then, in the same calm, quiet, controlled tone, he added, “Thanks. You’re not half bad, either.”

  Whoa. That was flirty. Or was it? It was, after all, nearly the same thing that Christian had said only moments before. The young man shook his head, mostly trying to clear it, and then spoke again.

  “Well, anyway, I guess I’m stuck with you, and you with me, for a little while? You can stay with me, if you want.” Even Christian had to admit that it might be a good idea to have this man around. No one seeing Mark would want to mess with Christian, that was for sure. “I have spare rooms. Or you can have the guesthouse.”

  Mark nodded.

  “I’ll take the guesthouse,” he said, as though nothing had happened between them. And probably, nothing had. Christian just had an overactive imagination.

  As he nodded back at Mark and then turned to show him where the guesthouse was, he found himself wondering. What would it take to make Mark let loose. To make him actually have fun? As far as Christian could tell, the older man was not the kind of guy who actually ever just had a good time.

  What would it be like to make Mark smile? To make him laugh? Christian had heard about the guards at Buckingham Palace, the ones that never showed any emotion or reacted at all. Or so he’d heard. He’d never been to England.

  But it seemed to him that Mark was a lot like those guards, which Christian didn’t understand at all. How could he be so impassive all the time? But Christian had also seen him swoop into action, and behind Mark’s stillness, he was willing to bet that Mark was always ready to act.

  Well, he’d likely never know what it would take to make Mark stop being so damn intense. He’d like to, but considering Mark had reacted like he had to the simple offer of a beer, he somehow doubted that was ever going to happen.

  No, the stick firmly stuck up Mark’s ass was going to have to stay there. Christian didn’t have the slightest idea how to pull it out, and he didn’t even know why he would want to.

  So he showed Mark to his new home, and
then stood aside, watching as the other man settled in. At least his guesthouse was nice. Not huge, but nothing to be ashamed of, anyway.

  He didn’t try to leave the guesthouse, not after the first time, because when he did, Mark simply stopped what he was doing to follow him. Mark had brought a bag full of stuff with him, but clearly, he would settle in later if it meant keeping Mark in sight.

  So, this was a SEAL. Undoubtedly impressive, but no fun. Or not much. It might be fun to tease the guy, but that was about it.

  In short, not Christian’s type of person. Which didn’t explain why Christian couldn’t stop watching him for long.

  Chapter Three

  Mark

  Christian was going to be trouble.

  Mark was pretty good at reading people. He had to be, in his line of work. And Mark could already see that there were at least two ways in which Christian was going to make his life difficult.

  The first was obvious. Christian was clearly the sort of laid back guy that Mark had never been, and could never fully understand. But Mark had seen it enough to know. The guy didn’t take much seriously, it seemed. So there was a good chance he would be a brat just for shits and giggles.

  The second didn’t become nearly as obvious until the first time Christian tried to go out and Mark, of course, followed him.

  “Whoa, man, you don’t have to take this so seriously. I’m going out. I don’t need you around me all the time, you know.”

  Christian had his arms crossed over his chest and was glaring at him, those eyes a dark, stormy gray with his emotions.

  “I go where you go,” Mark said simply. It really wasn’t up for debate. Mark was getting paid, and quite a lot, to be around this young man all of the time. Until he was given different orders, he was going to keep doing what he’d been told to do. What he’d been trained to do.