I know, it starts off kinda slow, but it gets better, I promise…

-Willow

Chapter 1

Rebeka McCail sat in the appointing ceremony and attempted, but failed, to look somewhat interested. Apparently a black belt in taekwondo wasn't enough protection for the daughter of a half-loved, half-hated Senator and niece of the President of the United States of America. Plus, she had spent the first fifteen years of her life learning the hard way how to fend for herself. She had the scars to prove it.

Rebeka bared her teeth into what some would have called a forced smile as she remembered how the two of them had teamed up on her earlier that week, forcing her to agree to a bodyguard, at least until they found the person that had attempted to attack her dad outside of his office. The forced smile turned to an obvious snarl at the opening line of her uncle's speech.

"We all know that a woman needs a strong man to stand in front of and protect her." Robert McCail, President of the United States of America, turned and smiled at the glaring Rebeka, the bright gesture only wavering slightly when he heard her soft growl. He then quickly turned back toward the audience and continued his speech.

In the front row, Alex Esla, a bodyguard with many safe and healthy clients under his belt, smiled to himself as he watched the President’s niece glare at his back, then discreetly scratch the side of her nose with a long, elegant middle finger. He laughed, caught himself, and disguised it as a polite cough. The woman must have heard, because her finger dropped and her eyes swivelled and locked onto his own, her light-blue eyes dancing, but at the same time fired with an anger that could only spring from pride. The sapphire blouse she was wearing shifted slightly with her frame as she adjusted her weight and crossed her legs, which were sheathed in black slacks with dangerous silver backless four-inch heels poking out of the end of the pant leg.

“I present my niece, Rebeka.”

The woman jerked at her uncle’s presentation. She rose regally with an air almost of danger.

Rebeka nearly stalked toward the podium, thinking of what she would rather be doing with her Monday: swimming, working, reading…getting a cup of coffee with the guy in the front row. Get that thought out of your head before you get hurt, she demanded herself. She looked up from her thoughts just in time to see her uncle’s self-satisfied smirk and decided to deck the next person that said she needed a bodyguard. Especially if that person was related to her.

All she wanted to do was go home and have all of these people leave her alone. If she stayed there, no one would be able to attack her, right?

With her anger boiling, Rebeka reached the podium. She leaned in toward the microphone and spoke in a lilting baritone chilled by definite sarcasm. “Gee, sorry everyone, but I seem to have left my speech at home. I guess I’ll just have to wing it. It said something about not needing a bodyguard and chasing off anyone who even thinks they could keep tabs on me. Any questions?” She didn’t pause for someone to get a word in edgewise. “Good. I’ll be leaving now.”

A dull roar of surprise filled the room. Bodyguards, most of which thought that the President’s niece would be an easy charge, began filing out through the double doors on the side of the building, hoping to be able to still catch the Monday night football game. Alex stayed put and mentally counted how many of the people he had met at the reception were leaving. All of those people were a disgrace, in his mind, to the integrity of the entire profession.

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the stage, where the President was desperately trying to get the bodyguards to come back, trying to assure them that his niece was a perfectly polite woman, and that she was just having a bad day. Of course, it didn’t work. Instead, more followed the trend and left. Meanwhile, the woman in question was facing off with six bodybuilders in Italian suits. Expecting a show, Alex sat back and relaxed, prepared to watch.

Rebeka grated her teeth as Bruce, the leader and the biggest of her dad’s bodyguards – her temporary ones – leaned in so he could speak under the sudden hush in the room. “I have direct orders not to let you leave until you get a personal bodyguard, ma’am.”

Rebeka growled, but spoke in the same low voice. “Well, who in the world ever said you’d let me?” She aimed a look that should have burned at the six of them. “Touch me and regret it.”

Bruce, catching her meaning, stepped directly into her path. “You can’t fight properly with those on,” he said, pointing at the wickedly sharp heels. His eyes locked onto hers. “Besides, you don’t have your braid in. We all know you don’t like to fight without your braid.”

While Bruce had been talking, Rebeka had slipped out of the heels. She flashed a smile of devastating white. Before he had the time to react, Rebeka pivoted and kicked, landing a solid side kick just below Bruce’s ribs. His breath huffed out and he doubled over. It took the other five a second to process what had just happened before they jumped at Rebeka to subdue her.

Rebeka began a series of ducks, dodges, parries, and attacks that Alex had to admire. He was a black belt himself, yet he could not move with as much grace and dexterity as she did. Every move she made seemed to be a prerequisite for the next.

Once she had fought her way to the other side of the stage, Rebeka looked back over the fallen men toward Bruce, who was just now struggling to his feet. Once again, she flashed that devastating grin. ”Just remember, Bruce. I may not like to fight without my braid in, but I can still kick your ass.” She then looked at her uncle. Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “Gee, sorry about that, Uncle Rob.” Without so much as a glance at the rest of the room, Rebeka laughed and hopped off of the stage, sprinting toward the doors behind which her Porsche was parked.

After a moment of stunned silence, the rest of the bodyguards – except Alex, of course – left. Casting a disgusted look at the retreating backs of the others, he got up and walked to the podium, where the President was still standing in bewildered quiet.

Robert jolted back to reality into a completely empty room but for soft groans from the six men recovering from their abuse and a man with shaggy black hair and grey eyes standing in front of him. His relaxed-but-on-alert stance immediately tagged him as bodyguard, and Robert let out a hopeful sigh.

Alex lifted a brow. “Is she always this testy?” When the President scrambled for words, Alex bit back a laugh. “I’ll take the job, Mr. President. I live with four women that are like this constantly. I can handle her.”

Robert laughed in gratitude and in warning. “You’ve got the job, but word of the wise: don’t be so sure of yourself. That’s been many a person’s downfall with Rebeka. Now why don’t you tell me about yourself while I drive you to her house.”

Alex nodded and took the hand the President offered.