Confused feelings

The car travels at turtle-like speed because of traffic, passing by tall buildings and passersby who are busy with their own lives. Even going over his work won’t take his mind off Louise and their closeness earlier.

Why the hell did he do that? Axel throws his iPad to the edge of the leather seat. He’s unable to concentrate on his work as images of what happened earlier play in his head like a broken video going on a loop — his heart raced as their faces moved closer; her breath brushed against his skin.

If he didn’t let her go, he might have lost control of himself. Very uncharacteristic of him.

“Fuck.” He grabs his hair in frustration. “What the hell was that?”

The temptation to kiss her was so strong. He wanted to do it so badly and had to throw her out to gain a semblance of control. He has a girlfriend!

His decision is right; they need to cut off their engagement before it’s too late. Spending the rest of his life with Louise? No way.

Louise challenged him and hit his sore spot. He never really acted as her fiance. He wanted to show her who the boss was, but it backfired on him.

Axel leans against the window, taking a deep breath to calm his mind and… his raging hard-on. So embarrassing. He glances at the noticeable bulge between his legs, making him guiltier.

He should only be thinking of Miranda. But he can’t help but imagine Louise kissing and caressing him.

Maybe I just need to let out all these pent-up desires? He alternately clenches and unclenches his hands, again and again, to gain control of his sanity and not let it run away with his hunger for her.

Taking out his phone from his pocket, he calls his girlfriend. “Miranda.”

He smiles when he hears her cheerful, sweet endearment of him.

“Can we meet tonight?” he asks softly. “I want to… stay over.”

Miranda giggles, and in a voice full of seduction, she says, “Of course, baby. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Hmmm…” he smiles before hanging up. Miranda is already enough for him, after all, she’s the perfect girlfriend for him.

***

“Great,” Louise murmurs as people look at her weirdly. She looks like a homeless person; alcohol stains smudge her top and jeans. Her disheveled hair has seen better days. The strands are like branches stretching here and there. Fortunately, she doesn’t smell.

Boutiques line up on the avenue, and people are milling around. Louise stomps her feet, gritting her teeth in anger and swearing she’s getting her revenge on Axel.

She has no money. No phone. And she’s damn hungry! She shouldn’t have trusted Axel to help her at all.

“You look like a beggar,” someone comments from behind her. She frowns and whips her head toward the voice.

“Fucking bastard—” she shuts her mouth and swallows her words back when she comes face to face with the man. Her anger evaporates as she stares like a lovestruck fool.

It’s Mr. Dark and Dangerous from last night. She’s sure of it.

There’s no way she identifies him wrong with his profile and body, especially a one-of-a-kind voice that can give a woman an eargasm.

“What are you doing here?” Louise asks, checking him out from head to toe.

Damn, the leather jacket looks so good on him. He looks like he just came from a magazine photoshoot. And that bedroom hair, is it natural? It looks so good on him.

“Did I pass?” he asks, his dimples showing as he smiles. “I hope you like what you see.”

“Who the hell are you?” she blurts out, embarrassed because he noticed her checking him out. “Are you my stalker?”

She steps back, bringing her arms up in a fighting stance.

“Well, you can say that. Why do you think I’m here?” he fires back as he checks out the surroundings, grinning from ear to ear.

Her face burns hotter. This part of the city is famous for its lingerie boutiques and a sprinkling of adult stores here and there.

“Or it might be better to say I’m a pervert, looking for my next costume or poor victim?”

“I don’t peg you as one!” she answers without thinking about it. Louise covers her mouth immediately. Then puts her hand down. “I mean… I don’t think you need a costume, Mr. Stalker.”

“He certainly doesn’t need one with his looks,” she thought.

Mr. Stalker rummages in his pockets and takes out a card. He hands it to her. She checks it and is surprised to see that this tall, dark, and handsome man is a member of Interpol!

“What? Why are you giving me this?” she asks, frowning. “Are you here for me?”

“I’m stalking you, Ms. Archer, but not for a bad reason. Interpol received a report that your life might be in danger. You had a close encounter with the Russian mafia last time, Ms. Archer?”

Her heart lurches in her throat, and cold sweat trails between her breasts. Shit.

“Yes,” she replies, biting her lips. “It wasn’t pleasant. Interpol is fully aware of the details, Mr…”

She glances at the card again and reads his name out loud, “Dylan Sloan.”

“Yes, that’s me. And from now on, I’ll be your escort. I’m here to ensure that nothing happens to you, Ms. Archer,” he smiles brilliantly. In Louise's view, a bright halo surrounds him for a moment.

Louise blinks her eyes, grimacing. Is she going crazy because of the stress?

“Does that include pointing guns at random guys in a bar?” Louise asks, peering into his heavy-lidded eyes.

“I go the extra mile, Ms. Archer, when it comes to my job and for a lady as beautiful as you.” He tucks his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Great.” Louise rolls her eyes. “You’re also an incorrigible flirt.”

He chuckles, sending shivers down my spine. She never thought that a man’s laughter can be so… sexy.

But no matter how handsome or sexy his laughter is, Louise doesn’t need a bodyguard.

“I’m sorry, but I refuse. The mafia episode was over, and Ivanov won’t bother me anymore.” She has her ways. Little Ivanov won’t disturb her unless he wants everyone to know about his secret.

“I’m sorry, but Ms. Archer doesn’t have a choice. Interpol is now treating you as an important witness against Ivanov. The Interpol is building a case against Ivanov, the head of a mafia-turn-famous, Russian oligarch.”

“Do you expect me to help you or anything?’ Louise's lips flatten into a straight line, her eyes narrowing into slits.

“As you can see, I look like a tramp right now. I can’t even fix my goddamn life. Do you think I can help you with whatever you’re planning? I’m not an angel fighting injustice,” she sighs, taking a deep calming breath.

“I understand,” Dylan smiles as if he has everything under control. “So, first things first, how about I take you home? You can eat and shower or vice versa while thinking about me.”

“Why would I think about you?” Louise exclaims. This man’s crazy.

“Pardon me.” His lips curve into a Cheshire grin. “I mean, thinking about what I said.”

Louise frowns as she crosses her arms, shaking her head. “Stop flirting with me. I’m engaged.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware,” he says with a straight face as he swiftly guides her to his car. “But your fiance won’t mind, right?”

He opens the passenger’s side like the perfect gentleman.

“Is that also a part of your job? Looking into my relationship?” her voice rises, feeling offended. The Interpol is prying into her privacy! This is too much.

“I even know that your last bath was 51 hours ago,” Dylan confidently answers. “I work harder than any stalker, Ms. Archer.”

“There’s no way I’m getting into your car,” Louise says, shaking her head before stepping away. “You Interpol bastards are crazy. I’m through with the likes of you. I had my share a month ago.”

She turns on her heel and walks away in a rush. Dylan gets into the car and follows after her, driving slowly.

“Get in, please. We need to talk more regarding our plans. Please cooperate, Ms. Archer. And it’s not safe to walk around like this in your situation.”

“Louise!” Suddenly, she hears a familiar voice calling her name. Turning around, she finds Axel standing beside his car. It’s two vehicles behind Dylan’s.

“Get in. I’ll take you home.” Axel adds as he strides toward her.

Louise stares at him but doesn’t move. She still can’t fathom what she feels for him. It’s not a good idea to be in the same car as him with the I-want-you-so-bad atmosphere lingering around them.

She panics, almost losing her footing.

“Open the car door,” she hurriedly says before running to the passenger’s side of Dylan’s car and getting in. “Drive!”

“Louise!” she hears Axel call out to her.

They should avoid each other for now.

“Take me home,” Louise whispers.

“Sure, Ms. Archer. I’ll take you home,” Dylan hums, his silver car blending into the numerous cars in NYC.