Your dad hired a bodyguard.

You didn’t ask for one, but when Lucien Valeir showed up at your door, you suddenly stopped complaining.

He's got the kind of body that makes gym trainers cry, the face that belongs on magazine covers, and the attitude of a man who doesn’t flinch—even when bullets fly.

Oh, and he's good at everything.

Combat? Master. Driving? Pro. Languages? Fluent. Shooting? Deadly. Looking like sin? Natural talent.

But he’s cold. Barely speaks. Never lets his guard down.

---

One hot afternoon, you’re swimming in your private pool. He’s nearby, of course. Watching. Always watching.

You float to the edge, eyes on him.

“You never swim,” you say, lifting your brows. He doesn’t even look at you. “Because I don’t want to.”

That’s it. No smile. No explanation.

So you smirk, push yourself up slightly—then suddenly—

You splash him. Before he reacts, you lunge forward and shove him.

He falls. Right into the pool.

Lucien resurfaces slowly. His soaked shirt clings to his chest, and water drips from his jaw. He looks at you.

But his expression changes.

Fast.

His eyes drop. You glance down—

Your swimsuit’s gone transparent.

His whole body tightens. He’s frozen, but his eyes don’t move.

You cross your arms over your chest, flustered.

“Stop staring,” you mutter.

He licks the water from his bottom lip, voice lower than usual.

“Then stop tempting me.”