Read Her Billionaire Bodyguard Bridegroom Online
Authors: Lisa Weaver
Her Billionaire Bodyguard Bridegroom
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2015
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Also In the Secret Sentinels Series. . .
Brianna Atwood was being seduced. Given how appallingly wrong things had gone the last time she’d allowed herself to be this beguiled, she knew she should be running in the opposite direction.
Her snake charmer of a fiancé had proven to be a master manipulator and a conniving cheat. In the aftermath of his betrayal, she’d vowed never to get that wrapped up in a man again. But never was a very long time.
The focus of her current infatuation winked at her through a gap in the dense woodland foliage, and her hesitation vaporized. Confident the seduction scenario currently playing out would end markedly better than the last, she sought a better vantage point from which to admire the handsome lake she’d discovered while mountain biking this peaceful Maine forest. Inanimate objects—unlike greed-fueled playboys with hidden agendas—didn’t chew hearts up and spit them out.
Spotting a narrower path that veered off the main trail toward the lake, she rode closer to investigate. A weathered No Trespassing sign tacked to a nearby tree marked the route as off limits. The good girl in her insisted she abide by the sign’s direction.
But what had being a good girl gotten her?
She really wanted to ignore the taunting of her inner just-a-little-bit-bad girl. She didn’t need to be reminded that she’d had her heart stomped on twice when she’d played by the rules. First by Peter, and then—when she was still reeling from the sucker punch of his deception—by her mother, who’d landed the knockout blow. Unlike them, she knew there were some lines you should never cross. But she yearned to break free from the endless restrictions that had prevented her from living life to the fullest for all of her twenty-three years.
And wasn’t escaping responsibility, even for only a short while, what this vacation was all about? Besides, it wasn’t like she was planning a night of reckless abandon with a total stranger. As walks on the wild side go, trespassing was pretty tame.
Decision made, she started down the path.
The meandering route came to an end on a cliff overlooking the lake. Sunlight danced on the mirror-smooth surface, setting it aglow in a breathtaking display of vibrant gold on blue. After propping her bike against a nearby tree, she made her way down to the water’s edge. She took her helmet off, setting her dark hair tumbling free in a riot of curls.
The water beckoned, cool and inviting, making her wish she’d worn a swimsuit under her cycling clothes. Then again, maybe she didn’t need one. The woods were isolated, and she hadn’t seen a soul all morning. She might never have a better opportunity to check skinny-dipping off her decadent-things-to-do list.
“I can’t believe I’m actually considering this,” she murmured. “The humidity must be melting my brain cells.”
Ultimately, the idea proved too compelling to resist. Road-blocking any second thoughts, she peeled off her bike jersey and shorts. The top’s design hadn’t necessitated a bra, but she’d worn a thong under her cycling bottoms. Stripping down to that piece of lingerie, she decided, was daring enough for her first time out. A second later she leaped, plunging headfirst into temptation.
I must be losing my mind, but what a way to go!
Luke Reynolds brought his morning jog to an abrupt halt, trying to make sense of the apparition before him. There was a mermaid in his lake.
Every drop of testosterone in his body stood up and took notice as he soaked in her perfection, millimeter by millimeter. Damn if she wasn’t every man’s fantasy sprung to life.
Fantasy being the key word. Obviously he’d set too brutal a pace for this morning’s five-mile workout. He’d heard of runners hallucinating when they hit the wall, but he’d never experienced it himself, until now. If this was the end result of sprinting like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels, he’d have to do it more often
.
The water nymph swam into his field of vision again, and his gut clenched in reaction. Desire pulsed through him as he watched her stroke lazily across the water, her dark hair flowing behind her in a stream of ebony silk. For one blissful moment her beauty almost made him forget the reason he’d been running so furiously.
Almost.
He’d been racing like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels because they were. He’d taken this vacation to try and outdistance them, but it wasn’t working.
He was a covert bodyguard. He prided himself on being the best in his field. But he’d failed to protect Tanya. Months later, her senseless death still haunted him.
The fantasy before him was a welcome—albeit temporary—distraction from the guilt of his irreversible mistake. He moved closer, sucking in a swift breath at the view his new vantage point afforded. That take-no-prisoners body ended in a pair of long, shapely legs. The beauty in his lake wasn’t a hallucination. She was flesh and blood—and all woman.
He swallowed, his heart rate skipping a beat before promptly shifting into overdrive. Raking his fingers through his hair, he forced himself to reign in his stampeding libido. He’d been running to forget one woman. The last thing he needed to do was to invite another into his life.
Or was it?
He paused as the thought teased him. Tempted him. Maybe he’d been going about things all wrong. What if his self-imposed estrogen ban was the crux of the problem? Perhaps a vacation fling was the key to successfully slaying his demons.
But first things first. He didn’t know who this woman was or what she was doing on his property—but he intended to find out.
Serenaded by a chorus of crickets, Brianna reveled in the caress of the water against her bare skin and the heady rush of this rare taste of freedom.
When her boss had first suggested she take a break and get away for a while, she’d been adamant she didn’t need time off. But Trevor had refused to take no for an answer, even offering her the use of his vacation home in Maine. She was immensely glad she’d finally capitulated. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to recharge.
An out-of-place rustling in a nearby stand of trees jolted her from her musings. Her arms shot up to shield her bare breasts, and her heart stuttered in panic. Alarm quickly morphed into awe when she zeroed in on the source of the disturbance.
She wasn’t alone any longer. A man stood at the edge of the lake. Not by any stretch of the imagination was this your ordinary, garden-variety male. The dark-haired, green-eyed Adonis was a pulse-revving example of masculine perfection personified in an “excuse me while I wipe the drool off my chin” kind of way.
Unable to tear her eyes off the Greek god who’d invaded her private paradise, Brianna closed them, certain she had to be hallucinating. Surely when she opened them this amazing example of the Y chromosome at its finest would be gone. He was far too perfect not to be an apparition.
Even if Mr. Tall, Dark, and Droolworthy
was
made of flesh and blood, it wouldn’t matter. She’d declared men—including those who happened to be as amazingly, gut-wrenchingly perfect as this gorgeous vision her psyche had conjured up—strictly off-limits. She absolutely, positively wouldn’t want anything to do with him.
Liar,
her rule-breaking, inner wild child taunted.
She risked another peek. Rather than vanishing, her hallucination had stripped down to a brief, black swimsuit. She was staring, but she couldn’t make her eyes obey her mental order to stand down. They were reveling in every nuance of this Michelangelo sculpture sprung to life.
It occurred to her she should say something, on the billion-to-one chance he might be real.
“What are you doing?” she ventured boldly.
He flashed a lazy smile. “Joining you.”
His response resonated with a confidence that made it clear he didn’t think he needed an invitation. His voice was as perfect as his body, a deep baritone that enveloped her like a lover’s embrace.
Mirages didn’t talk, did they? If she wasn’t hallucinating, she had bigger problems than being caught semi-naked on private property. This stranger had her teetering on the precipice of lust, and that wouldn’t do. Belatedly, she remembered the need to voice her disapproval of his plan to crash her private swimming session.
Between the overload of testosterone in the air and the fact that her heart was lodged somewhere in the vicinity of her tonsils, articulating a protest wasn’t an easy feat.
“Oh no you’re not,” she managed to croak.
“No?” he queried, cocking an eyebrow. A half smile curved his lips, revealing an amazing pair of dimples. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you trespassers don’t get to be choosy about their swimming partners?”
Oh boy. Busted.
Not only was her hallucination real, he’d also caught her encroaching on someone else’s land.
“I’m vacationing in the area, and I wanted to get a closer view of the lake. I didn’t think anyone would mind,” she defended lamely.
Those hypnotizing eyes tangled with hers, amusement glittering in their depths. “Ah. A tourist. Let me guess. The airline lost your luggage, leaving you sans swimsuit?”
Mortification branded her cheeks. She shook her head, hugging her chest tighter. “I don’t have an excuse. I don’t know what possessed me to . . .”
He held his hands up in a placating gesture, halting her flustered explanation. “Hey, it’s okay. You can relax. The private property your little detour brought you to is mine. You’re welcome to enjoy it.”
“I’m so very sorry I infringed, all the same,” she hurried to apologize. “If you could give me a moment’s privacy, I’ll grab my clothes and be on my way.”
Her request was met with a resounding splash as her mirage-made-man dove neatly into the water. He surfaced in front of her, slicking his hair back from his face.
“No need to rush off on my account. I’m more than happy to share my lake with a beautiful mermaid.”
As a motivational speaker, words were Brianna’s livelihood. She had never been at a loss for them. Until now. Her tongue seemed to be paralyzed. Distracted by the impossibly broad shoulders and the taut, six-pack abs currently permeating her line of vision, she somehow couldn’t pull a single cohesive sentence together.
His musky cologne, a perfect counterpoint to the scent of the pine forest surrounding them, teased her senses. The heat radiating from his water-droplet-bejeweled body drew her closer, making her forget all about her initial desire to flee.
Common sense dictated she didn’t belong in a secluded lake with a complete—if albeit sexier-than-sin—stranger. But when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes again, that common sense executed an abrupt U-turn. Her heart did a free fall from her tonsils to her toes, taking all of her good intentions right along with it.
The eyes locked on hers were heated. Hungry. She’d thought she’d been melting earlier, when she’d pitted her body against the brutal terrain on her mountain bike, but that was nothing compared to the way this man’s presence ratcheted up her body temperature. Not surprising—he was hot enough to melt an Arctic ice cap.