Romancing A Dangerous Man

I knew there was something strange about him

Carol Burt


Photo by Philipp Lansing on Unsplash

Many years ago, I met a man who was security and bodyguard to a rich guy who lived in the town where I used to live and work. I never knew why the guy needed a bodyguard — but I knew, or had heard, that he had an extensive gun collection and kept rare automobiles on his property.

The so-called bodyguard was a charmer. Talk about smooth. Not to mention good-looking. I met him in connection with my job at that time, and he swept me off my feet. (Not going into too much detail here).

I was single then and promptly fell the usual way, head over heels, in love with him. He had been all over the world and was sophisticated. He seemed wise and unlike anyone I had dated previously. He was a licensed pilot, or he told me he was, and he always had a gun on him. He said he had to carry it for his job. At the time, I was such a baby girl that I thought that made him very cool.

He was about ten years older than me and was so sexy and accomplished that a local guy I had been dating fell by the wayside. He told me he had been a police officer before he hired out as a bodyguard, and at that time, I wanted to be a cop, too, so he appealed to me in several ways.

He had smooth, olive skin and the darkest and most intense eyes. A few scars on his face that he said came from a vehicle accident didn’t hurt his looks at all. The scars, in some way, just made him more attractive and added character to his face. He had a way of searching my face as we talked that let me know I had his full attention. I loved it.

We had quite a fling, and I was totally smitten. He appeared to be, too. I’ll call him Todd, although that is not the name he used. Of course, he had a last name, but I’m not repeating it here, even if it did turn out to be an alias.

Todd was generous with compliments and money, too, and frequently took me to dinner or what passed for expensive meals in Arkansas. Todd had a really cool car, too.

He found living in the mountains a gigantic hoot, since he had only lived previously in big cities. He referred to the people of the hills as hillbillies until it grew tiresome to me, and I asked him to stop saying that. He apologized profusely and said…



Carol Burt

Former print journalist, former mayor, retired law enforcement officer. Writing about politics and government along with random personal essays.