Defending Her Dignity Page 3

  I nod, taking it all in. I appreciate his blunt style but still, I hate that I have to do this, and disrupt my daughter’s life so drastically. “Okay, it all sounds good. When can you start?”

  Oded arches his brow at my question and shakes his head. “Oh, no. Not me.” He tilts his head to the woman at his side. “Yael.”

  I look at the woman, then back at Oded. “You’re joking, right?”

  I hear her let out a hiss of air and I turn to look at her again. Her wide, curious eyes have narrowed and she’s now glaring at me. When she sees she has my attention, she crosses her arms at her chest. While I know she is pissed, and the gesture is obviously made to intimidate me, I am also a man and I can’t help but notice the movement only helps push up her breasts. When my eyes drop, she catches me checking out her cleavage and narrows her eyes even more at me as she drops her arms to her sides and lifts her knee up to rest against the edge of the table, blocking my view.

  Sensing the bubbling annoyance in his companion, Oded places his hand in front of Yael. While a part of me is enjoying watching the heat rush to her cheeks and the muscles in her body tense as she does her best to hold in whatever insults I am sure she wants to hurl my way, I also want to make it clear that I want only the very best for Isabel. And as alluring as this young woman is, it looks like she weighs maybe 130 pounds soaking wet. She doesn’t inspire too much confidence.

  “Look, I don’t mean any offense, but come on. I need someone I can trust. Jerry told me you only hired ex-military.”

  Oded opens his mouth to respond but before he can, the woman at his side slams her palms down on the table. She levels her eyes at me, pursing her plump, rosy lips. I can see her jaw tick as she struggles to maintain her composure. That lasts for about a millisecond. “Look, you pretentious ass—” she starts, her words clipped and controlled, with the slightest hint of an accent, much subtler than her counterpart’s.

  Oded’s eyes widen and he grips the woman’s shoulder. “Yael! Sheket!” he orders, silencing her.

  I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair. “This is the best you have?”

  “Yael spent five years in the Israeli Defense Forces. She was a captain of her unit and is trained in several martial arts disciplines.” He turns to glare at her. “There’s no one I’d recommend before her.”

  I look at her doubtfully. Her dark brown eyes are still seething and glaring back at me. I level my eyes at hers. “I’m sorry, but I need someone I can trust to protect my daughter.” I turn and face Oded. “Do you have anyone else?”

  Oded shakes his head. “Mr. Monroe, there is nobody better than Yael. Please, let’s talk this one through.”

  “Listen, tell me your other options or we can end this now.”

  The woman — Yael — lets out another huff of air before jumping out of her chair and walking out of the room. I’ve insulted her, and I know I should feel badly, but I force away any feelings of guilt. I can’t worry about some random woman’s feelings—even if she is one of the most stunning women I have ever met. I need to focus on my daughter and protecting her.

  Oded nods and digs his phone out of his pocket. “Let me look at everyone’s schedules real quick. I can let you know who is available.”

  I nod and watch as he quickly scrolls through his phone, his brow knitted in concentration. After a few moments, he lets out a low whistle, and I can see the relief on his face when he looks up and offers me a warm smile.

  “I have someone who I think just might work.”

  4

  Yael

  I let out a frustrated grunt as I storm out of the dining room. I ball my fists at my sides and pace in a circle outside the room. I want to rush back in there and tell that arrogant ass what I really think. A million different insults in a mix of both English and Hebrew rush through my brain, but none seem fitting enough. How dare he dismiss me so easily? I was getting sick of being passed over just because I was a woman. I could outrun, outmaneuver and outsmart most of the men my cousin hired. No one would be able to offer his daughter better protection than I could. But because I had a set of tits, I wasn’t worth even interviewing. It was bullshit.

  Men like Lawrence Monroe took one look at me and wrote me off. I hated having to constantly prove myself. And what men saw as my disadvantages—my size and my gender—I would just use against them. I wish I could take this asshole into the boxing ring and show him what it costs to underestimate me. Men like him just saw me as a useless chick, good only for what was between my legs. That is, until they would try to touch me—then I would kindly remind them of what was between their legs by ramming my knee there.

  One look at his suit and perfectly gelled hair and I knew I could easily take him. Sure, he had at least five inches and a good fifty pounds on me, but that meant nothing in the boxing ring. There, speed and endurance are all that matter. And if his body is as out of touch as his sexist, micro-sized brain, then it would be an easy win.

  And though I hate myself for it, in my heated moment of anger and frustration, an image of him shirtless laying on the ground as I straddle him forces its way into my head. And while I am still angry, I don’t exactly hate the image of his long, lean body glistening with sweat yielding beneath me as I pin him down. What a shame that such an asshole is so irritatingly gorgeous. Still, even though he is one of the objectively most attractive men I have ever met, he’s a Neanderthal and an idiot. I guess it’s true when they say that God doesn’t give with both hands.

  Shit. Oded is going to kill me. He was almost ready to do it when he had picked me up this morning. How was I supposed to know we were going to meet some hotshot millionaire today and that I needed to “dress up?” What does that even mean? Since when do I need to wear a suit to be a bodyguard?

  The sound of a squeal and loud applause pulls me out of my head. I peer around the corner, into the gigantic living room we had walked by to get to the even larger dining room. Seriously, this house — if you can even call it that, it’s so huge — is massive. And yet, I couldn’t deny that despite it’s immense size, it had a uniquely home-like feel to it. Pictures covered most of the walls — everything from candid family shots to professional studio photoshoots. While not messy, toys and books lay scattered around. This house looked lived-in and it had life, and was in stark contrast to the orderly and spartan home of my youth.

  Standing in front of the television, perched on the tips of her toes, is a small girl wearing black leggings, a black shirt, and a man’s tie wrapped around her blonde hair. Her bright blue eyes are focused on the screen as she bounces on her toes. I slink over to get a better view and see that she’s playing some game on her television. Clutched in her hand is a white remote and on the screen a voice counts down: “Five, four, three…”

  At “one,” the girl lets out a “hurrah!” and flails her arms around as she jumps erratically. I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh at the sight. Now the outfit makes sense. It looks like a cross between a ninja and a karate gei.

  After just a few seconds, the announcer ends the match. It looks like this is the sixth round she’s lost. She drops her head in defeat and falls back onto the heels of her feet, looking dejected.

  I can’t stop myself and I take a few steps closer. “Hey, if you pace your punches a bit better, wait a few seconds in between, you can focus more power into your punch and get in a better hit.”

  The girl’s head shoots up as she hears my voice and sees me leaning in the large doorframe. Her eyes narrow down to look at me with obvious suspicion.

  “Who are you?” she asks, her eyes looking me up and down. “You look too messy to be my nanny.”

  Ah, an insult right off the bat? Definitely her father’s daughter.

  I cross my arms at my chest and stare her down. “Do I look like a nanny?”

  She shakes her head, her blonde curls shaking. She mimics my stance, crossing her arms at her chest. It’s then that I see in her the same feistiness and spirit that I had at her age. And I can’t
resist.

  I close the distance between us and pick up the white remote. I click to start a new game and assume the basic beginner’s stance, my left leg slightly in front of my right and my hands guarding my face. As the announcer counts down the match, I look down at her. “See where my hands are? You always want to keep your hands up here. Protect your face.”

  She nods and jumps next to me, copying my stance and holding her hands up by her face. The match starts and I become transformed into a blue cartoon avatar. The soundtrack of screaming fans and applause plays as I duck to dart an offensive punch before thrusting my right fist forward to punch my green opponent. As the punch lands, a loud ringing sound plays, and the little girl lets out an audible gasp.

  I look down at her and offer her a smile. “Okay, watch this. This is what we call a bolo punch, okay? Watch carefully. I’m going to make him think I’m going to punch with this hand,” I say as I wave my left hand. “But that’s just a distraction as I lean in and give him an uppercut with my right.” I swing as I describe the move and earn myself another twenty points.

  The girl mimics my move, delivering a pretty impressive uppercut of her own. “Nice,” I tell her, earning a toothy smile in return. I hand her back the remote and stand back. “Okay, when he moves forward you duck and then give him an uppercut,” I direct her as she follows my instructions. She lands the punch, sending her opponent falling to the floor, and the announcer declares her the winner.

  As the other avatar characters all scream and applaud, she swings around to face me, a wide smile on her face.

  “I won!” she squeals, her blue eyes shining with excitement.

  “Not bad,” I remark approvingly.

  “How do you know so much about boxing?”

  “Because I’m a boxer.”

  The girl’s mouth drops open and her eyes widen into large saucers. “But you’re a girl.”

  I crouch down to kneel in front of her, my eyes level with hers. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you can’t do something because you’re a girl.” She bobs her head in rapt agreement. I tighten the makeshift headband across her forehead and offer her a nod of approval. “You are going to be told you can’t do a lot of things because you are a girl. But I want you to ignore it all.” I point to my chest. “Someone once told me I couldn’t do something because I was a girl. They told me I couldn’t fight. So, I decided to prove them wrong, and now I have my black belt.”

  The girl lets out a quiet gasp. “Like the Karate Kid?”

  I chuckle and nod my head. “Yep, exactly like the Karate Kid.” I force myself to give her a stern look. “Now you promise you won’t let anyone stop you from doing what you want, what is right, just because you’re a girl.”

  The girl nods her head up and down, shaking her tight blonde curls.

  “Good,” I tug on a ringlet and give her a conspiratorial wink. As I rise to my feet, I spot my cousin and Lawrence watching me from across the room. My cousin’s face is stoic and expressionless, like always. But when I look at Lawrence, his face reveals something much more visible and raw. He looks almost…hopeful. I force myself to look away, my irritation at his earlier dismissal returning. Pity that ass has such an amazing daughter.

  My cousin pulls his dark sunglasses off his collar and slides them onto his face. “Yalla, Yael, we need to go.”

  I nod and turn back to face the small girl. I tap my finger on my forehead. “Remember what I said.”

  She nods and offers me a sad smile as she watches me leave.

  5

  Yael

  The minute the front door closes behind us, I turn to face my cousin.

  “Oded, I—”

  “Yael, not now,” he says, cutting me off. “Just get in the car.”

  I snap my mouth shut and follow him into the car. The minute the doors close, I turn to face him again.

  “Oded, look I’m sorry. I should have shut up. But come on, that guy was such an asshole. You know, I’m happy he didn’t hire me. Can you imagine having him as a boss? Egh, I feel sorry for whoever gets stuck—”

  “He hired you.”

  “I mean, he’s so arrogant. And did you see that living room? Who needs a television that big…?” I continue, before Oded’s words finally register. “Wait, what?”

  Oded backs out the long driveway and turns onto the road. “He hired you. You start tonight.”

  “He hired me? After he essentially told me I was useless?”

  Oded shrugs his broad shoulders. “I offered him Martin and he agreed, but when he started to walk me out, he saw you with his daughter and suddenly changed his mind. Told me that he wanted you to start immediately.”

  I shake my head as I look at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t know, Yael. He told me that his daughter can be a little evil, has gone through all these nannies because she makes their lives miserable. I think he saw you two together and figured it just might work.”

  “Wait. Nanny?” I ask, holding my hand up. “I am not a nanny.”

  “Well, now you are,” he replies blithely.

  I sit up straighter in my seat. “Hold on one second, there, Oded—”

  “Yael, do you even know who Lawrence Monroe is?” my cousin interrupts.

  I shrug as I inspect my nails, doing my best to appear disinterested. “An entitled prick who sees women as nothing more than an accessory to wear to a party?”

  Oded sighs. “Lawrence Monroe is the heir to the biggest publishing firm in the world. He is set to inherit the whole company by the end of the year. And his little sister is Daphni Monroe.”

  “Daphni Monroe? The singer?”

  “Yes, and she is engaged to the head of her private security, but the word is that she’s shopping for another agency to replace him once they get married. I’ve heard she is looking for a female security guard.”

  “Oded…” I start, doing my best to contain the excitement in my voice.

  “If you do a good job on this case,” Oded interjects. “And prove that you can handle this, I will put a bid on the Daphni Monroe gig and recommend you as the primary detail. Impress Lawrence, and the job will be yours.”

  “Fine,” I mutter.

  “Fine?” Oded asks, looking at me surprised. I am sure he was expecting more of a fight, but I can’t deny the logic here. Getting a gig like Daphni Monroe would set me up with the chance to explore the world, and hopefully figure out exactly it is I want to do with my life.

  “I’ll do it,” I tell him.

  “Perfect. You need to be back tonight, at five sharp.”

  I let out a groan. “Egh, it will be such a hassle to get here every day. Can I borrow your car while I work here?”

  “No need,” Oded replies, shaking his head. “You’ll be moving into the house.”

  I turn in my seat to look at him. “What? That was never part of the deal.”

  Oded shrugs. “All the nannies lived in the house.”

  “I’m not—”

  Oded holds up his hand, clearly exasperated. “A nanny. I know, Yael. But Lawrence’s daughter will think you are, and he believes this is the best way to protect his daughter. He doesn’t want to freak her out with a bodyguard. She’s been through enough.”

  I fall back in my seat, silent. I can’t disagree. Oded had briefed me on the way over this morning, and it sounds like what she went through had been terrifying. As much as I hate the idea of pretending to be a nanny, if it helps this little girl, I’ll suck it up.

  “Fine,” I finally relent.

  Oded smiles as he pulls onto the highway. “Look at this as another adventure, Yael. Put in your time for a few months, babysit the kid and make sure she stays safe, then have Lawrence recommend you for the job with his sister. You’ll spend the next few years touring the world and rolling in enough money that you can set yourself up for a comfy future.”

  I lean back in my seat and prop my hand out the window, letting the wind rush against it. A large smil
e creeps up my face at the idea that, in the very near future, I can finally be able to live by my own rules. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Sure, I would have to put up with an entitled and arrogant boss, but I knew his type and had been surrounded by men like him all of my life: I could handle him. Truthfully, I would probably never even see him. Men like that, with fortunes like that, were always either at the office or with a woman, not at home with their daughters. Even if he was one of the most strikingly handsome men I’d ever laid my eyes on, I would not let myself be taken in by him. I would do what I needed to impress him, collect my checks, and be out of his life.

  6

  Lawrence

  The doorbell rings at seven minutes after five, and the instant I hear the sound, I push up from my chair and toss my glasses on my desk. I take a quick look in the hallway mirror as I make my way to the front door. I can’t help running my fingers through my hair and giving myself a quick once-over in the mirror.

  Truthfully, I’m eager to see her again. Yael. The woman with the gorgeous eyes and fiery temper who was a mere five seconds shy of calling me an asshole. The fact that I just stared at the same email for the past fifteen minutes waiting for the doorbell to ring is confirmation that I simply must have been celibate for far too long. Because even in my younger days, when I would have a different woman in my bed each night of the week, I can’t remember a single woman who hit me with the same intense spark of desire as Yael.

  Lock it down, man. I can’t go down this train of thought and lose my head over her. I need to remain in charge, objective. She is here for one thing, and one thing only: to keep Isabel safe. Nothing can compromise that.