The Guardian
Authors: Jordan Silver
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica
The Protectors Book One
The Guardian
BY
Jordan Silver
Copyright © 2014 Alison Jordan
All Rights Reserved
Cover by Jordan Silver
Cover imag
e
ID 9966580 ©
Branislav Ostojic
***
She’s trying to drive me out of my fucking mind. I know it and she knows it, but just because I haven’t said or done anything in the last three years or so since she started her campaign, she’s grown progressively worse.
I’ve just been biding my time, there was much to consider after all. Not least of all, the affect it would have on her if I took her up on what she was so readily offering.
I’ve known her since she was a kid for fuck sake, and not once in those early days did I even think of her in any other way but as the daughter of one of my closest friends. Then tragedy struck and threw us together in a most unconventional way.
I had been in no way ready to take on the responsibility for a fourteen- year old girl. At twenty-six, I was just hitting my stride in the business world as well as in my private life. Being left with the guardianship of a young girl who’d lost both her parents in one shot hadn’t been anywhere in my life plan.
I’d stepped up to the plate however, and fulfilled the terms of the will. In those first days and weeks after the accident, I’d put my life on hold and taken care of her. Feeling the raw pain that she endured then like a knife through my own heart.
We’d grown closer then during those long trying days and nights when she cried enough to break my heart. When all I could do to ease the pain was rock her in my arms until she fell asleep, too exhausted to do anything else. Of course there was nothing sexual between us, the thought never even crossed my mind. I would’ve been a perverted fuck if it had.
No, in those early days we had just been two people offering each other comfort at a time when our world had been shifted off its axis. Dave had been a good friend and confidant. Even though he’d been older, he’d taken me under his wing when I first joined my family’s business. We’d hit it off from day one, so it wasn’t a stretch for him to introduce me to his wife and their only daughter, the apple of his eye.
***
After many dinners together, and assorted company gatherings where the families were invited to tag along, Isabella and I had grown rather close. She loved regaling me with tales of all the latest shenanigans her and her little girlfriends got up to and nagging me into letting her ride my bike. Something I never did because her dad would’ve skinned me alive if I’d ever let his precious little darling get on the back of my death trap as he liked to call it.
That closeness had only grown in the weeks and months after her parents’ deaths, and I had begun to relax and think that maybe this guardian deal wouldn’t be so hard after all. As long as I stayed on top of her and kept the nightmares at bay and saw to it that she had as normal a childhood as possible, then I shouldn’t fuck her up anymore than the average kid was.
It was months later that I realized something had shifted; her attitude towards me had changed. At first, I put it down to the gratitude of an impressionable young girl, whose emotions were askew because we’d grown so close out of necessity. But as time wore on, I grew to believe it was a little bit more than that.
I’d distanced myself in the only way I knew how without hurting her too much. After all, I was a grown man and she was just a mere child. I thought for sure that with time her little schoolgirl crush would go away.
I started dating again, though I didn’t keep a stable of women in and out of the home that I now shared with her, but I’ve always been a man of very strong appetites. So when I was sure she was out of the woods, I’d climbed back into the saddle.
I knew she hated it, thought it was because she was afraid I would leave her. But as a man who prides himself on knowing women, I picked up soon enough on what was really going on. Short of sending her away to boarding school, which would’ve hurt me to do as much as it would’ve hurt her. The only thing left was to make a rift of sorts between us.
I’m not sure how well that had worked though, because she only seemed to get worst as time went on. Then she started to grow up and I was the one in trouble. I’m not sure when exactly it was that I started thinking differently towards her, but I know whenever it was, she was too young.
That just made me more of a bastard or so she likes to claim. We’d gone from being free and relaxed in each other’s space, to barely coexisting under the same roof. I hated like fuck to see that great divide growing wider and wider but it’s what was best for her.
Even if she’d been older when this all started, she wasn’t for me. She was a gently bred and reared socialite type. The women I took to my bed were a little gritty and a lot tough. They had to be to handle the shit I expected when I put them under me.
So no, sweet little Isabella was not for the likes of me no matter how gorgeous she had become in the last year, and no matter that she didn’t seem to have outgrown her crush.
***
The more I kept her at arm’s length, the bolder she became in her escapades though, and then she crossed the line. I maybe could’ve handled that situation a lot better than I had, but when she threw herself into my arms that night, professing her love for me, I was scared out of my fucking mind.
Not scared of her, but afraid of what I wanted to do to her. She was eighteen fucking years old for fuck sake and I wanted so much to tie her to my bed and fuck her in all the ways I could imagine and then some.
The thought had left some parts of me cold, while others burned like fiery embers. How could I take my late friend’s child to my bed? He’d trusted me to look out for her and as much as my cock reared its ugly head at the very thought of her, I couldn’t soil his memory.
Perhaps if I had been a different man, if my proclivities were a little more mainstream, I might’ve considered it. But there was no way in hell I was going to introduce her to my world.
Now she was up to her shit again, only this time she’d bitten off more than she could chew and I was about to show little Ms. Thing just what happened when you yanked the lion’s tail.
***
In the last year, she’d pulled any number of stunts to get my attention. From late night parties when she knew damn well her little ass was too young to be hanging out drinking, to skipping class. I’d fixed that shit by going around her to the parents of her friends and threatening their asses.
She’d had a fit, but I pretty much just ignored her tantrums. Then she’d started with the last minute trips out of town, anything to get under my skin. Unbeknownst to her, I had her under twenty-four-hour guard. There wasn’t a move she made that I didn’t know about. If she knew, she’d probably try to kill me in my sleep; yeah, my little hellcat has a temper on her too.
Our relationship of late has been reduced to grunts and snipes; that was mostly my fault. It was the only way I could keep her safe from what she thought she wanted. But this last play had opened my eyes and lit a fire under my ass. I hope she liked what she got after going out of her way to force my hand.
I know her well enough to know that she knew I would be there to save her from her latest bullshit, that I would always be there to catch her. Only her ass might not survive this one intact.
***
ISABELLA
It's my wedding day; I should be happy right! Instead I'm miserable and scared. The reason; the man I love isn't the one I'll be meeting down the aisle. He's such an asshole.
For three and a half years I've had the hots for him, but he's kept me at arm's length. I could understand the first three years when I was too young, but I’m old enough now, at least the law says so, but not Mr. Bigshot. Well, I’ll show him-the ass.
Maybe I should introduce myself, give you a bit of a background so you know what's going on.
My name is Isabella Devlin; I just turned eighteen last week.
I'm one of those trust fund babies you read about in the gossip rags, but in my defense, that's all because of my guardian, he's the asshole.
Most everything I've done in the last three years has been to get his attention, but he never does the expected. No matter what I throw at him, he always thwarts me.
I hate him, I love him; he makes me crazy.
When I was fourteen and he a young twenty six year old, my parents perished in a plane crash.
Their private jet went down in the Swiss Alps. I was supposed to be with them, but at the last minute I got sick and couldn't make the trip so I stayed home with the servants after telling them it was okay, that I would be fine. I couldn’t wait to be left on my own for the first time; that guilt will stay with me for the rest of my life.
They were both forty years old at the time that they died.
***
Zared had been one of my dad's business partners; much had been made of the young, debonair, up and comer with the pedigreed background, who chose to branch out on his own and make a name for himself separate from his family's already well established reputation.
I'd seen him around the house plenty when my parents were alive. My dad and him had formed a bond that went beyond the business arena.
Dad had been fond of saying that the younger man was the most honest person he'd ever encountered in our world. A stand up guy whose moral compass was incomparable. No wonder he had chosen him to look after me in case of just such a disaster.
Years later, I can attest to that fact. One can only hope for a little human emotion.
He had decided after the funeral to move into our family home as opposed to moving me into his bachelor pad in the city. He thought it would be better for my frame of mind at the time, not to shake things up too much.
Losing both parents at the same time at such a young age had been a horrible blow and still was, but I’ll grudgingly admit that he’d gone above and beyond to make life easier for me, the jerk.
I remember him coming to the school to pick me up, and me knowing without being told, that something bad had happened.
He'd taken me home and held me on his lap as he broke the news. I'd fallen apart completely that day, but what I remembered most, was that he had let me grieve. He never once tried to stem the flow of my tears or the railings and screaming tantrums I had for days and weeks after. And when I had destroyed my room, breaking and tearing apart anything I could get my hands on, he just held me close, rocking me to sleep with soothing words of comfort.
The days following would've been damn near impossible, if not for his presence and his patience. I think it was during the worst few weeks that my feelings for him changed and grew, from a silly high school crush, to the budding true love of a young heart.
That sexy hair and those piercing green eyes, had been starring in my dreams more and more, and he had this way of looking at me, that made it seem like he saw right through me.
***
Our first year was mostly trial and error. I was usually a very happy go lucky kid; but with the lost of my parents, I sort of drifted for a bit, until I found my footing again.
It took a good three months before I stopped waking up screaming at night, and he was always there. I don't think he dated anyone in all that time.
The following year, things changed though. First, it was Talia Demarco; I hated that bitch with a passion. She was blonde, passably attractive and dumb as a stump; at least that was my assessment of her.
She lasted maybe half a year. Next was Cornelia Dumas, another blonde bimbo with the IQ of a duckling. By then I was almost fifteen and my hormones were going haywire.
By the time I reached sixteen, she was almost on her way out, though she 'd lasted a little longer than the other one.
He never allowed any of them to spend the night, so I had no idea where he found the time to be with them, though there were nights when he was missing in action.
Between Cornelia and Lauren, who’d lasted six months, there were a few stragglers.
Then came Sonja the BITCH. She was the front-runner as far as I could tell. I think the bitch had tried to talk him into sending me away to boarding school, the jealous hag.
I'd overheard plenty of heated discussions between them, in which he always staunchly refused to even consider it.
After that, I made it my mission in life to make her life a living hell, if only he would've been accommodating.
Since he refused to see things my way, I was doing the one thing he had ever forbidden me to do. I was going to marry Paulo Amici, the son of his sworn enemy. Maybe that would hurt him as much as his disinterest hurt me.