I Just Need You - J. Nathan Page 0,2

been there the first time I’d visited the Eiffel Tower and The Louvre. The first time a French guy tried to kiss me and take me back to his place. The first time a pickpocket tried to snatch my money. I owed Andre more than just my life.

“Your protection will be discreet, but always around—and armed,” my mother said, adding the last part to drive home the point that Andre had been unarmed when the men broke into my apartment. His gun was nearby, just not on him. A no-no in the field of security. And since the men had not been caught yet, I guess I appreciated the reassurance that my new security would be armed at all times. “Duffy and Stone have their orders,” my mother continued. “They know where to be and when to be there. You will never be without someone.”

“When do I get to meet them?”

She glanced around as if they were somehow hiding in my box of a room. “I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. They’ve already been here for a few days preparing for your arrival.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing it was for my own safety but hating that people needed to treat me like this precious gem when I wasn’t. My father was rich. Billionaire rich. Which meant people wanted to kidnap me, his only daughter, and hold me for ransom. It came with the territory. It happened to professional athletes, actors, and rich businessmen all over the world more frequently than the general public ever knew. But I’d known the risk my whole life. It’s why security accompanied me wherever I went. Yup, prom was real fun.

“Mrs. Hastings?”

My mom and I turned to the sound of a deep voice coming from my now open door.

A huge guy with a thick reddish goatee and shoulder-length slicked-back hair stood in the doorway. His tight black Henley and black cargo pants told me he wasn’t just some floor mate coming to introduce himself. “Everything’s set in place.”

I looked to my mom. “What’s everything?”

“Surveillance, ma’am,” he answered for her.

“Kresley,” I corrected him. “Not ma’am. I’m twenty-one, not eighty.” I tried not to sound like a bitch, but I hated not knowing what was going on when it came to me. And the fact that I was only meeting this guy today, when I knew for a fact that my parents had interviewed both him and his partner weeks ago, pissed me off.

“Honey, this is Marco Duffy,” my mother said.

“Should I call you sir, or is Marco okay?” I asked him.

“Marco’s fine, ma’am.”

“Dammit, Marco. Having a bodyguard is bad enough. Calling me ma’am is gonna piss me the hell off.”

His lips twitched. “Noted, ma’am.”

I growled low in my throat, unsure if I was pissed or amused.

“Well, now that introductions are out of the way,” my mother interrupted, “we need to get your things brought up from the car.”

“I’ve got Marco. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind putting those big muscles to use since he’s gonna be following me down there anyway,” I assured her before glancing to Marco for confirmation.

“Not at all, ma’am.”

I ignored his use of ma’am, having a feeling I’d sound like a broken record if I kept at it.

He followed me out of my room, weaving around students carrying their own boxes and luggage as we made our way to the stairwell at the end of the hallway.

“How old are you, Marco?”

“Thirty-five,” he said as we took the stairs to the first floor.

“You married?”

“Yes,” he said, opening the side door and checking the surrounding area before allowing me to proceed.

“Have any kids?” I asked.

“My wife’s pregnant.”

“Congratulations,” I said as I followed him outside.

“Thank you,” he said, though his eyes remained on our surroundings and not me.

“Did you go to college?” I asked as we stepped up to my mom’s Mercedes SUV parked at the curb. I hit the key to unlock the doors and open the back door.

“No, ma’am. Military. Special Forces.”

“Thank you for your service, Marco,” I said. “Sorry you’re stuck in college anyway. I’ll try not to make it too boring for you.”

“Boring’s good,” he assured me as he moved to the back of the SUV. “It means you’re safe.”

I didn’t say anything as he reached in the back and pulled out several bins. I grabbed clothes on hangers and carried those over my shoulder as we made our way back upstairs.

It took a few hours, and multiple trips to retrieve all my belongings from the car, to unpack my things. When