Lillian Blackwell, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of Stanford. Her beauty was breathtaking. Large blue eyes, pert nose, sumptuous lips. Divine long legs with a slender and firm body. But one thing that caught his attention the most was her hair. The silky golden tresses of hers seemed to flow
forever. It fell past her back, waist, hips and ended just below her knees. When Brandon saw her for the first time, Lillian was sitting in the terrace with her hair loose, draping her like a silky golden curtain. She reminded him of Rapunzel from the fairytale book he’d read when he was little. To think a toad-like man like Stanford would marry a beautiful nubile woman like Lillian. A shame, indeed.
“Look, kid…”
“I’m twenty years old. I’m hardly a kid.”
“I’m thirty-four and that makes you a kid to me.”
A scowl erupted on her pretty face.
“Listen, Ms. Blackwell. I can’t smuggle you out of this place. I’m your bodyguard. My job is to protect you.”
“Then protect me from him!” Lillian seized his hands and squeezed them. Her voice was strained with desperation. She looked as if she was about to cry. “You know Stanford isn’t marrying me because he loves me. He’s marrying me for my father’s fortune. And my father needs his power and protection to stay in business.”
Any fool could see what was happening. The engagement and soon-to-be wedding of the century from two of the biggest entities in the world was based strictly on business. Not love. To be honest, Brandon found it distasteful. But it wasn’t his business, really. His military training and career had taught him to never nose around where he didn’t belong and always stick to the mission assigned to him. In this case, his main objective was to keep Lillian Blackwell alive and safe from anybody who might hurt her physically. The welfare of her emotional state wasn’t listed in his job description.
“Ms. Blackwell, I can’t take your offer. I need this job.”
Something in her eyes went dead in an instant. A surge of guilt raked through him. Brandon couldn’t help her without jeopardising his own neck. He really needed the job. About three weeks ago, his former commanding officer had called him out of the blue and offered Brandon work in the private sector. His CO had heard that Brandon had fallen into hardship ever since he’d been discharged from the military. Desperately needing money and a fresh start, Brandon had agreed to fly to Japan the next day as a bodyguard for the daughter of the richest man the world, William Blackwell. Spiriting Lillian away from her father and Maxwell Stanford would be asking for a date with a noose.
“Ms. Blackwell, did you ask others about this?” Brandon knew Lillian’s security team was comprised of more than a dozen highly trained ex-military personnel. Some of them were ex-Seals and Delta Force, and all of them were extremely well paid. The Blackwell family knew how to buy their staff’s loyalty.
“No.” Lillian twisted her fingers until her knuckles went white. “I’ve only asked you.”
“Why me?”
Her sombre eyes met his. “I thought you were different, Mr. Shea. I thought you were the one. I guess I was wrong.” She rose and bowed her head. “Gomen’nasai.”
She crawled back into the tokonoma’s hole and slid the partition closed. Brandon wished he could do something to comfort her. Poor kid. He thought fate loved screwing with him until he hit rock bottom, but God had certainly had His joke when He’d indulged a man like Stanford, giving him an opportunity to ravish an innocent beauty like Lillian. Gah. He didn’t know why but the image of Lillian in Stanford’s bed made bile rise into his throat. He involuntarily shuddered, fighting the bad taste in the back of his mouth.
Poor kid.
She should have known that in real life, a knight in shining armour didn’t exist. Let alone expect him to save a damsel in distress. When Lillian saw her new bodyguard for the first time, she’d thought someone had finally answered her prayers. Brandon Shea could be her knight in shining armour, the one who’d take her away from this prison and set her free. Maybe if she was lucky, she could have that happy-ever-after ending as well.
When Mr. Gray, the head of the security executives, had told her she’d be getting a new bodyguard, she thought he’d be like the others before him. Brandon replaced Wolfe, a German-born security exec who looked as scary as his name. Wolfe loved ogling her when nobody was around, watching her as if he wanted to eat her alive. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was thinking. Lillian wasn’t stupid. Though she didn’t relish misfortune on others, she was relieved when Wolfe was fired from Mr. Gray’s security team. He’d sustained a serious injury from the bar fight he’d gotten into in his R-n-R time. Kurt Wolfe made her nervous.
Then she’d met her new bodyguard.
Brandon Shea wasn’t like any man who’d worked for her father before. For one, he had these smoulderingly intense, but kind, eyes. One look told her she could trust him with her life. And unlike Mr. Gray’s men, Brandon didn’t conform to the standard grooming rules. He let his straight raven hair fall below his shoulders and it seemed as if he’d never bothered with his stubble, either. Still, he was one hell of a striking man, and one of the best-looking guys she’d ever met in person. Everything about Brandon Shea screamed rebellion. She didn’t know if those qualities were what attracted her to him, but by God, she found herself with a big crush on the new bodyguard.
After weighing all of her options, she’d taken a chance and approached him. Since he was new, she thought she might be able to buy him with her secret savings. Lillian didn’t have high expectations. Years of living under her father’s strict rule had taught her to never harbour high hopes or she’d be crushed under them later. What she’d dreaded had come true when Brandon rejected her proposition flat out. Lillian understood his reasons. What she’d asked of him was equal to suicide. Mr. Gray and his men would hunt them down like sewer rats if Brandon dared to spirit her away. She’d just thought he’d be different. She’d guessed wrong.
Lillian stared at her lunch with dismay. Salad again. The small plate of shredded iceberg lettuce with two thin slices of hard-boiled egg and vinegar dressing mocked her back. She longed for something filling, like bread or rice, or something meaty and greasy. A burger would be nice, like the ones she saw on the commercials. Wonder what they tasted like? Lillian had never eaten what they called junk food. Mrs. Mitsusaki had put her on strict diet based on her father’s order, saying he wasn’t keen on having a fat daughter.
Her stomach growled. Lillian stabbed her fork, shovelling the meagre salad into her mouth. She ate slowly, wanting to savour every morsel of food. Her lunch was the first meal she’d had since yesterday. Mr. Strauss, her violin tutor, had been displeased with her performance in a particularly difficult solo, so her father had punished her by depriving her of her meals. Her father used food as a form of punishment to keep her in line. She starved a lot. Lillian thought it rather ironic that she often went hungry when her family sat on enormous amounts of wealth. Starvation should have been the least of her worries.
Mrs. Mitsusaki entered the dining room. Her eyes strayed to her plate before she regarded her with a stoic expression. The head caretaker had never showed her emotions. Sometimes, Lillian wondered if Mrs. Mitsusaki was even capable of showing any.
“Miss Blackwell, your father is here. He’s ready for you.”
When her father said he was ready for her, he meant she must present herself immediately. Failure to do so would result in more punishments. She’d once gone as long as five days without food for defying him and she’d had to be hospitalised afterwards. It was an awful experience she didn’t want to go through again. Lillian scarfed down her salad and drained the lemonade in several gulps. It was bad manners, but she didn’t want to waste her food. Fervent hunger had been gnawing at the pit of her stomach since last night. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and nodded at the caretaker. Mrs. Mitsusaki, with her expressionless plastic face, bowed. Lillian followed her into the drawing room.
Her father was sitting near the fireplace when she entered. He regarded her with an uninterested gaze and whipped a finger towards an empty chair. Lillian sat quietly with both arms folded in her lap, face forward, back straight, no noise, just the way her father liked it.
“Miss Liu has your wedding gown ready. I want you to t
ry it on.”