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“How about we grab some breakfast at the diner then drop by Morgan Wheeler’s place? I hear he’s into real estate now.”

Lacey hadn’t been back inside her house since the shooting. They’d agreed it might be time to move on from the past.

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” Grandma Lambert’s diamond flashed when Lacey rested her hand on Mason’s thigh. She held the other out for Ty, who entwined their fingers.

“Do you think they have Spaghetti-O’s?” he asked.

They filled the cab with laughter as they began the journey of their life together.

Just before the dawn.

About the Author

Jayne Rylon's stories usually begin as a daydream in an endless business meeting. Her writing acts as a creative counterpoint to her straightlaced corporate existence. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband who both inspires her fantasies and supports her careers. When she can escape her office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky and, of course, read.

Jayne is a member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA), the Central Ohio Fiction Writers (COFW), Passionate Ink and International Heat. Feel free to stop by her website at www.jaynerylon.com or email her at [email protected]

Look for these titles by Jayne Rylon

Now Available:

Nice and Naughty

Dream Machine

Three’s Company (Ménage and More print anthology)

Coming Soon:

 

Kate’s Crew

She can cover him with one hand tied behind her back. Maybe two.

 

Personal Protection

© 2009 Leah Braemel

Hauberk Protection, Book 2

Sam Watson excels at keeping other people safe. Now a stalker is targeting him, but so what? A few doctored photos and a couple threatening phone calls are no big deal. He can watch his own back. Then again, the view from behind the sexy spitfire assigned to protect him isn’t so bad…

Rosalinda Ramos has managed to keep her attraction to Hauberk Security’s owner tightly under wraps. It’s just as well he doesn’t know. One slip—in the bedroom or on the job—will cost her her heart and her career, so she’s got only one thing on her mind. Protect Sam, whether he wants it or not.

The stakes—and the heat—rise exponentially when she discovers Sam belongs to an exclusive sex club—one she must investigate for potential suspects. Suddenly she finds herself immersed in a world that pushes her boundaries.

Sam delights in leading Rosie deep into his sexual shadows—until they go one game too far. Making him wonder if he can allow the woman he loves to take a bullet for him.

Warning: May incite the reader’s protective instinct, forcing her to throw herself on the nearest man.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Personal Protection:

The limo pulled into the underground parking lot and past his Jag. A sigh escaped Sam as they cruised past his Harley. The crisp October day would have been perfect to drive his Road King. Instead he was cooped up like a damned dog in the back of the limo that finally stopped near the elevator where Rosie was waiting.

Damn it, why had Chad insisted on Rosie Ramos as his lead CPO? If he’d wanted a woman to accompany him to any upcoming parties or meet ’n greets—the reason Chad had given him—why not McKee or Anderson? Neither of those women got his cock twitching like Rosie did.

The fantasy he’d had of getting her alone in his apartment hadn’t included her wearing a gun and acting in as his personal bodyguard. All right, maybe one had. But, damn it, if a bullet was going to be aimed in his direction, there was no way in hell he wanted the little spitfire throwing herself in its path. He’d rather have her throw herself in his bed. Go down on her knees and unzip his fly… Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

“All clear, Mr. Watson,” Rosie said quietly.

“Of course it is.” Sam ducked his head and clambered out of the limo, then stomped to the elevator. Goddamn it, she’d even acquired a key to the elevator, locking the door open so no one else could use it. He ignored that it was standard operating procedure and lashed out, “You think other people might not need the goddamned elevator?”

“Better than having the door open and somebody shoot you from inside. Besides there are other elevators still available.”

Her voice was so damned reasonable. Placating. Like he was some baby to be soothed out of a tantrum.

Which is exactly how he was behaving but goddamn it, his people were supposed to be protecting others. Not him.

She turned the key and let the door close, pressing the button for the penthouse. The elevator began to rise, a quiet chime announcing each floor they passed. And with each ding, Sam became more and more aware of the delicate smell of apricot shampoo and woman filling the confined area. He closed his eyes, trying not to deliberately inhale great lungfuls of that amazing scent.

As long as she was around him, he’d not sleep. Instead he’d be staring at the ceiling imagining what it would feel like to cup her breasts in his hands, to unzip her pants and nudge aside that blue thong. Imagine going down on her and tasting her honey. When she’d been in the gym doing those stretches, he’d obsessed about some of the positions she could get into while he fucked her. Then in his office while Chad had been briefing her, he’d pictured her stretched out over his desk, her legs hitched over his shoulders. And now she’d be in the next apartment, so damned available.

Damn it!

“Mr. Watson, do you have a problem with me guarding you?”

“Nope.” He couldn’t help that his answer sounded like a growl. He had one helluva a problem and at the moment it was punching against his zipper. He shifted his briefcase so she wouldn’t see his hard-on.

“I mean, do you have a problem with a woman guarding you?”

Shit! She thought he didn’t want her because she was a woman? Why not add sexual discrimination to the mix today? He exhaled and opened his eyes. “No, Ms.

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