“Shouldn’t a bodyguard know those secrets, so they know when you’re most in need of protection?” she countered. Batting her eyelashes! Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. “Though you have a point about the current public nature of the discussion. If you’re interviewing me for a position, might be better to move to a more, hmmm,” she sought a non-threatening word, “secluded space?”
Damn, he was tough. She wasn’t even entirely sure why she was pursuing this conversation, except that hint of ‘broken’ that she sensed. And there was just something about him that — compelled, far beyond the simple fact that he was Tony Stark, with all that implied.
Flirting with this man would be courting a broken heart, she suspected. Though it might yet be worth it.
“I’m pretty sure that bodyguards have to protect their boss without question so it doesn’t matter if they know the secrets or not.”
“Though some of them end up learning about the secrets somewhere along the line.”
Usually, it’s when the secret gets them killed…
He chuckled lightly, looking about, his arms still crossed over his chest.
“I could be interviewing you, I don’t know yet. Then again, since I don’t know about those special talents of yours yet, I’m still wondering exactly how you could protect me better than I could protect myself.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a genius.” She folded her arms, in turn, and repeated slowly, “I’m an empath. Think about that for a second.”
Okay, so she could see where a man like him would jump to the personal immediately. But he’d created weapons — including the Iron Man suit. So it really shouldn’t be that hard for him to see the offensive and defensive possibilities inherent in the ability he knew about.
It hadn’t been for her. And that was a thought that still hurt.
Sensing a potential attack long before it got within striking distance. Deflecting lone madmen. The chance to place absolute trust in everyone around — and to know when that trust was no longer warranted. No nightmares or insomnia.