The Protective One
A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance
Cami Checketts
Birch River Publishing
Contents
Cami Checketts
Copyright
Introduction by Lucy McConnell
The Billionaire Bride Pact
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Additional Works by Cami Checketts
Also Available by Cami Checketts
About the Author
Excerpt from The Rebellious One by Jeanette Lewis
Excerpt from The Resilient Bride by Lucy McConnell
The Masquerading Groom
Cami Checketts
Copyright
The Protective One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance
COPYRIGHT ©2016 by Camille Coats Checketts
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Birch River Publishing
Smithfield, Utah
Published in the United States of America
Cover design: Christina Dymock
Photo credits: LUTFI-LURE
Editing: Daniel Coleman
Dedication
To my twin sister, Abbie Anderson. Thanks for being my best friend and favorite sister. The research trip to Crested Butte was a hoot because of you. Now if I could just teach you how to flirt when men hit on you.
Introduction by Lucy McConnell
I’ve heard it said that some people come into your life and quickly leave—others leave footprints on your heart. Jeanette and Cami are two wonderful authors and women who have left their mark on my heart. Their overwhelming support, knowledge, and general goodness have pushed me forward as a writer and nurtured me as a friend. That’s why I’m pleased to introduce you to their new and innovative series: The Billionaire Bride Pact Romances.
In each story, you’ll find romance and character growth. I almost wrote personal growth—forgetting these are works of fiction—because the books we read become a part of us, their words stamped into our souls. As with any good book, I disappeared into the pages for a while and was able to walk sandy beaches, visit a glass blowing shop, and spend time with a group of women who had made a pact—a pact that influenced their lives, their loves, and their dreams.
I encourage you to put your feet up, grab a cup of something wonderful, and fall in love with a billionaire today.
Wishing you all the best,
Lucy McConnell
The Billionaire Bride Pact
I, MacKenzie Gunthrie, do solemnly swear that I will marry a billionaire and live happily ever after.
If I fail to meet my pledge, I will stand up at my wedding reception and sing the Camp Wallakee theme song.
1
MacKenzie Gunthrie flipped over on the hard bed in a large farmhouse somewhere in the Midwest. They hadn’t told MacKenzie what state she was in, but there were definitely plenty of fields of corn and grain.
She massaged her left shoulder that had fallen asleep. She wished her entire body would fall asleep, but didn’t hold out much hope. Sadly, she couldn’t blame the uncomfortable bed for her insomnia. One week ago, MacKenzie witnessed torture and murder as she hid behind a trash can. In the wrong place at an absolutely horrific time. She shuddered. She’d never run at night again, and every time she closed her eyes all the images and panic-inducing terror came back. Sleeping was getting tougher and tougher.
Flinging onto her back, she squished around in the bed hoping to get comfortable but failed. A tear trickled out of the corner of her left eye and puddled in her ear. MacKenzie dug angrily at it. She muttered a quick, desperate prayer for help, not sure how much longer she could stand this uncertainty. She missed her parents, her sisters, her students, though school was out for the summer so she really couldn’t see them anyway, and her friends and training partners. The quiet farm should’ve been preferable to the busy city of Chicago, but with at least two FBI agents by her side at all times and the fear always hanging over her, she didn’t get any solitude. Miserable didn’t begin to describe this night or the past week.
A gunshot rang through the farmhouse, followed by shouting. She jerked up in the bed. Her heart thudded against her rib cage. Sliding out from under the covers, she listened until the sound of more gunshots propelled her shaking legs into action. She dug her fingernails into her palms, trying not to remember the blood and the glint of the knife in the moonlight. Would the shock of having a finger completely cut off stem the pain at all? The high-pitched squealing and begging she couldn’t ever get out of her mind told her no.
She slipped into a pair of Sanuks and pulled a T-shirt over her head just as her door sprang open. Agent Klein, a tall black man, who reminded her of her grandpa, gestured to her. MacKenzie was only a quarter African American. With her lighter skin and wavy dark hair, few people believed she and her grandpa were related, but she loved him and his heritage. Because of the similarities to Agent Klein, she had felt an instant connection.
“Let’s go,” Agent Klein barked.
MacKenzie followed him without question. She’d liked him from the first time they met, and instinct told her he was a person to trust. He took her arm and led her down the back staircase of the sprawling safe house and out into the dark summer night. The midnight blue sky was full of stars. MacKenzie liked the openness of this area and the smell of dirt and crops. So different than the busy streets of Chicago.
More gunshots rang out, seeming to ripple across the fields of corn, and she ducked.
“It’s okay,” Klein reassured her. “They’re holding them off out front.”
“Is it … Squirt?” MacKenzie squeaked out, barely able to vocalize the fears of who it might be.
“Yes.” His face was as grim as his voice.
She and Klein had tried to joke about the situation she was in by calling Solomon Squire, Squirt. It hadn’t lessened her fears by much, but it had helped. Squire’s brother had been killed by the police when MacKenzie called 911 that fateful night. Solomon had escaped and MacKenzie was taken into protective custody until he was found. MacKenzie’s own experiences with the man paled compared to the rumors she’d heard about the Chicago crime lord. He was bad news and no one tried to sugar coat that he would come after her in retribution for his brother’s death.
They sprinted across the back yard and ducked into the barn. Klein ushered her in, closed the door, and stood by it.
“We’re just going to wait here?” MacKenzie’s voice was a raw squeak.
“The other agents will take care of them then come get us with an all-clear.”
“What if they don’t … take care of them?”
“Then I’ll hold them off while you run. You like to run, right?” His white teeth flashed at her in the dimly lit barn.
MacKenzie’s chest tightened. She loved to run, but the FBI agents hadn�
��t let her out of the house by herself the past week, and because of how hard she’d trained the last six months to compete in national level Spartan obstacle races, none of them could keep up with her on a run. Her legs ached to run her favorite paved path in Chicago, sixteen miles along Lake Michigan. The sun on her face. Sweat pouring down her chest as she flew along the trail. Her only worry if she’d brought enough water to hydrate with.
“That’s not funny, Klein,” she muttered. “If they come, I’m not leaving you.”
“Yes, you are. If it comes to that, you run and you run fast. I’ll take care of them and then I’ll find you. That pathetic Squirt isn’t going to hurt you.” He attempted a smile that she couldn’t return, and finally settled for looking into her eyes until she meekly nodded.
She wished they could both jump in a vehicle and disappear, but everything was parked out front where the fight was concentrated.
Footsteps approached the barn. MacKenzie’s pulse jumped.
“Hide in the back of the barn. There’s a rear door if you need to use it.” Klein gave her a gentle push. “Go.”
MacKenzie scurried away and through the dim light found the rear door. She slowly slid it open and went outside, peeking back in to see what was going on. The front door of the barn creaked on rusty hinges as it swung wide.
“Klein?” a low voice called.
The air whooshed out of MacKenzie. It was Agent Tureen, not Squire or his men. Klein walked into the light from the open door. MacKenzie waited for a signal from him.
“Where’s the girl?” Tureen kept his gun pointed straight at Klein.
“She’s gone,” Klein said.
“Why?”
“I sent her to meet some agents coming from the north.”
MacKenzie wondered why he would lie. The road ran north and south from the farm house, but if she ran from here, she’d be heading east.
Tureen cursed and pulled the trigger. Klein’s body banged against the rough plank wall and slid to the ground. MacKenzie gasped then slapped a hand over her lips. Clutching her mouth with a trembling hand, she panted for air.
Tureen’s head swung her direction. Luckily he was in the direct stream of light from the motion sensor outside the front of the barn. “MacKenzie? It’s Agent Tureen. I’m here to protect you. Klein sold you out to Squire. We’ve contained the problem and you’re safe now.”
MacKenzie could hear gunshots out front. If they’d contained the problem, nobody should be shooting.
“It was all Klein.” Tureen took a step into the barn. The door closed behind him.
MacKenzie didn’t believe him. Whereas she’d trusted Klein, she’d never liked Tureen much. He seemed to be always checking her out or appraising her movements and comments in some way. His smooth voice reminded her of the crime lord, Squire—silky and deceptive.
Not waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, she slid behind the rear door and slowly closed it. She ran as lightly as she could toward the cornfield. The uneven ground and rocks irritated her feet through the thin Sanuk’s sole.
The back door of the barn banged open and Tureen rushed out. MacKenzie took the last few steps and was hidden among the corn. She slowed her pace, trying to minimize the noise as the green stems scratched at her arms. A bent-over stalk poked her in the face. She bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry out and prayed the tall corn would hide her.
Where was she going to go? Was it even possible to escape from him? Her stomach tumbled with fear and questions and her prayers became more desperate.
“MacKenzie?” Tureen called. “Come back now and things will go much better for you.”
MacKenzie’s throat was dry as she threaded through the corn. Tureen’s voice grew fainter and when she couldn’t hear him any longer, she thought it might be okay to run. She took Klein’s advice, she ran fast and she didn’t look back.
2
MacKenzie lifted several red, white, and blue decorative plates to the front of the display. The Fourth of July was only a couple weeks away and she wanted to make sure she sold these before she had to put them on discount.
She tilted her head to the side to study the arrangement and smiled.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
MacKenzie’s heart rate jumped at the voice behind her, but luckily she didn’t physically leap. The past few days she’d improved at hiding her fears. That was something to be proud of.
She turned and smiled at the teenage girl. “Yes?”
“Can you help me find a birthday present for my granny?”
“Love to.”
They searched the shop and settled on a Fourth of July wall hanging and red, white, and blue candles. MacKenzie waved goodbye to the girl and settled into the employee chair behind the desk.
Safe in the small valley of Crested Butte, Colorado she was thrilled to have a place to stay and a job. When she’d run that fateful night, she made it to a farmhouse several miles away. A sweet, old lady had hidden her in the back of her truck with her smelly pigs and driven for hours until there were no more police or agents searching for her. It had been the most miserable, terrifying night of her life, but the lady had believed her story and stayed with her until her parents wired her some money. She didn’t dare go home, so she called one of the few numbers she had memorized, her old girl’s camp friend, Haley Turnbow. Haley’s number hadn’t changed in years and it was an easy number to remember.
The timing was “perfect” in Haley’s words for MacKenzie to come stay for a while. Haley was getting married and needed someone she trusted to run her home décor store, Sugar ‘n Spice. MacKenzie didn’t tell her friend the truth and she felt guilty about that, but Haley didn’t need the kind of stress MacKenzie was dealing with when she was happily planning a wedding. Haley, her fiancée, Cal, and her five-year old son, Taz, had left shortly after MacKenzie arrived for Cal’s island. They’d be back a couple days before the wedding.
It was a dream come true for MacKenzie. As long as she wasn’t discovered in the picturesque mountain town, the Butte, as the locals called it. Her face pinched and her stomach turned at the thought of Agent Tureen or Solomon Squire finding her. She didn’t know if she dared trust the FBI again, but had no clue who to trust if she couldn’t trust them. If only Klein was okay. She didn’t hold out much hope that he’d survived that shot. The only way she’d be safe to go home again was when she heard that Solomon Squire had been booked into a maximum security prison where he belonged. She sighed, hoping that day would come soon, but forcing herself to acknowledge it might never come.
“You keep pulling that face and it’ll stick that way.” The slow drawl of Haley’s older brother, Isaac, from the open doorway made her stomach smolder, and that ticked her off almost as much as the insult, but at least she didn’t jump in fear at a man’s voice.
“Maybe I like my face this way.” She stood to deal with him and wished his looks were as off-putting as his sarcastic personality. But no, his face was perfect—olive skin, manly lines, and those green eyes that drew her in. Of course he had to have dark hair with just the right amount of curl and beefy muscles in all the right places.
Isaac reached up and touched the skin next to her mouth. She tingled and tried to back away, but ran into the shelf. His hand dropped to his side.
“You look stressed.”
“Thanks. Such a compliment.”
“I’m sorry.” He shoved a hand through his curls. “Haley would kick me in the pants if she knew you were unhappy. Take a break. I’ll watch the shop for a while.”
MacKenzie’s eyebrows rose. “When did you decide to play nice?”
Isaac scowled. “You still mad at me because I called you one of the gold diggers?”
“Oh, big surprise that I would take offense to that.” They’d met for the second time in over ten years the night she arrived in Crested Butte. The only downside of this escape plan was she’d been so excited to see Isaac again. He was her first—not to mention most amazing—kiss at the very mature
age of fourteen. He hadn’t remembered her or the kiss and that alone had about taken her under. His first line to her was, “Oh, another one of Haley’s gold digger friends looking for a billionaire.” What a jerk. A heartbreaking, much-too-good-looking jerk.
“Hey, I’m sorry, all right?” He glanced at the display over her shoulder. “Don’t get all offended.”
“Don’t get all offended?” MacKenzie pushed around him, but unfortunately brushed against his muscular arm. She felt the connection all the way down to her toes and it frustrated her even more. Why was she always attracted to the Neanderthal idiots? If her body could pick a man to be attracted to who wasn’t a sarcastic loser, she would be grateful. “I think I’ll take that break, not sure if I’ll make it back before closing time,” she tossed over her shoulder.
Isaac nodded but didn’t answer. She could feel his eyes on her as she left the store.
Isaac Turnbow pushed all his air out as he watched MacKenzie go. Crap. Apparently he’d said the wrong thing again. She was so breathtakingly beautiful it was like his mind got stuck because his eyes were too busy staring and he had no clue what he was saying until he realized that he’d upset her.
Isaac had finished feeding the calves early, got cleaned up, and told his dad he was going into town for a parts run.
“Make sure to check on MacKenzie,” his dad had said with a huge smirk.
Isaac hadn’t been able to hide his grin, knowing MacKenzie was the only reason he was coming to town. Now he’d messed up any chance of taking her to dinner tonight.
He strode to the front desk and plopped down on the employee’s stool. Did she even remember their kiss? He’d been seventeen and much too full of himself, but she’d taken his breath away even then with her wavy brown hair framing naturally tan skin that was smooth and smelled intoxicating. Her lips were a perfect pink pout, even when she smiled, but his favorite part was her deep brown eyes filled with a mischievous sparkle.
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