HIS DANGEROUS DESIRE

AMIRA’S POV

The gates of St. Regis University split open like the jaws of some quiet, gilded beast. Perfectly manicured lawns stretched out in every direction, bordered by stone buildings that looked more like castles than classrooms.

Black Bentleys and silver Porsches dotted the drive like chess pieces, each vehicle whispering one truth louder than the last…only the rich survive here.

And I was richer than most.

I sat cross legged in the backseat of a matte black SUV, one Air Pod in, Chanel shades perched low on my nose, scrolling through my phone like I hadn’t just left behind a mansion with thirty six bedrooms and the kind of father who could buy this entire university and turn it into a private vineyard if he wanted.

My expression was unreadable, that perfect heiress mask carved into my face like it had been there since birth.

Freedom.

That’s what today was supposed to be about. No more 24/7 tutors. No more family meetings with world leaders. No more ridiculous “media grooming” sessions.

I was eighteen. Finally.

Finally out of my father’s grasp.

I adjusted my crop top, smoothing a wrinkle from the cashmere fabric, and glanced out the window. Dozens of students were already swarming the campus with rolling suitcases, Starbucks cups, and excited chatter. Some laughed, others FaceTimed their parents, already crying.

I smirked. Amateurs.

“Almost there, Miss Kingston,” came a low voice from the driver’s seat.

My gaze snapped forward.

The man driving me wasn’t my usual chauffeur. This one was younger. Tall, maybe six-foot-three, broad-shouldered even beneath his plain black T-shirt. Short dark hair, jaw clenched tight, arms covered in tattoos that peeked just beneath the hem of his sleeves.

And quiet.

Too quiet.

I narrowed my eyes. “Where’s Bernard?”

“Off rotation,” the man said flatly. His voice was gravel, low and smooth like something dangerous was always hiding beneath it. “I’m your new assignment.”

I scoffed. “Assignment? What are you, a robot?”

“I’m your bodyguard.”

The air changed.

I blinked once. Twice.

There was no answer.

“Jesus, my dad is actually insane.”

Still nothing. No response.

“You don’t even look like a bodyguard. You look like someone who’d fail the entrance exam at TSA.”

His grip on the wheel didn’t falter.

I leaned back, my tone turning more taunting. “What’s your name, soldier boy?”

“…Jace.”

That was it. One word. Like he’d tasted the rest and spit it out.

“Well, Jace,” I said, dragging his name like silk across sand, “let’s make this very clear. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. And I definitely don’t want someone following me around like I’m a toddler with a leash.”

“Noted.”

“You really think you can keep up with me?”

“I don’t plan to keep up,” he said calmly. “I plan to keep you alive.”

The SUV came to a halt in front of Crescent Hall—my new dorm.

Outside, students buzzed around like bees in a Gucci hive. Security guards swarmed the area, loading my trunks and coordinating like it was a covert military operation. People stared.

Of course they did.

I was a name, a brand, a headline waiting to happen.

I smirked, adjusting my glasses again before opening the door.

But Jace beat me to it.

He rounded the car with the kind of casual authority that made my pulse do something stupid. He pulled open the passenger door, holding it without looking at me.

Like I was nothing special.

No reaction. No awe.

I hated it.

I swung my legs out, head high. “Do you always act like a robot or is that just for me?”

“I only speak when necessary.”

“Oh? So you’re the strong, silent type?”

“No. I just don’t enjoy meaningless conversations.”

That was the last straw. I snapped my head toward him, eyes flashing.

“You work for me, you know that, right? Or at least for my father. Which makes you a glorified employee. So maybe act like it.”

“I know exactly who I work for,” he said, not even flinching. “And it’s not you.”

My mouth parted, stunned into silence. For once.

He turned before I could reply, already moving toward the lobby. His stride was effortless. Relaxed.

I stared after him.

What the hell was his deal?

The room they gave me was top tier. Cathedral ceilings. Gold hardware. A marble bathroom with a rainfall shower. They even installed triple security locks and digital monitoring, which I knew my father had arranged just to keep tabs.

My things were already being unpacked by assistants in black suits.

Jace stood at the far corner, back against the wall, arms crossed.

Watching.

Always watching.

I tried to ignore him.

Tried to act like the Chanel perfume I was spritzing mattered more than the way his eyes followed my every move. But my fingers trembled slightly when I picked up my lipstick.

Annoying.

“Do you sleep standing up too?” I finally snapped.

“No,” he replied. “I’ll be down the hall.”

“Of course. Like a dog.”

“If it keeps you breathing, I don’t mind.”

I turned fully toward him, hands on my hips. “Is that how you see yourself? Some attack dog on a leash?”

“No,” he said again. “Just the leash.”

Our eyes locked.

Tension thickened. It wrapped around the air like static before a storm.

I should’ve said something sharp. Something cruel.

Instead, I looked away first.

Hours passed. I went to the student welcome mixer and ignored every invitation to dance. Smiled for the photos. Tossed back a flute of champagne. Rejected two phone numbers. Gave one out just to stir chaos.

Jace was always in the background.

At one point, I looked over my shoulder and caught him staring at me from a distance…half in the shadows, arms crossed again.

His eyes were unreadable. He was watching me like he was memorizing me from the inside out.

I told myself it was creepy.

But it didn’t feel like fear. It felt like heat.

That night, back in my dorm, I peeled off my heels and collapsed onto the velvet sofa, my legs aching.

Tara, my roommate, was already half asleep in the other room, phone glued to her face. Music from the next dorm pulsed faintly through the walls.

Jace hadn’t said a word since returning.

I glanced at my bedroom door. Knew he was still awake down the hall.

I got up quietly and walked to my full-length mirror. Ran my hands down my silk pajama shorts. Adjusted my tank top. Smoothed my hair.

Why did I care?

He was just some employee. Some thug hired to babysit me.

But the way he looked at me…

Not with hunger. Not even with respect.

I turned off the lights.

But sleep didn’t come easily.