by Kyanna Skye
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Billionaire Protector
Kyanna Skye
Table of Contents
Billionaire Protector
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Paranormal Romance Collection
Billionaire Romance Collection
Bad Boy Romance Collection
Exclusive Preview of Rascal: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
Copyright 2017 by Kyanna Skye - All rights reserved.
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Billionaire Protector
I want that woman in my arms. I want to take her and fuck away any pretense that we don’t need each other. But there’s one problem with that.
I am her bodyguard. I shadow her every move. I make sure she is safe. She drives me to distraction because I can’t deny the hold she has on me.
I want to feel her body, her breasts crushed against my chest, the heat between her thighs. I need to make her cry and shiver her release.
I’m hard for her all the time. I’m tired of playing the good guy when what I really need is to show her how a real man pleases a woman. It’s only a matter of time before I give in. And I’m going to make sure she keeps coming over and over…
Chapter One
The hotel buzzed with activity; staff bustling about behind the scenes made sure that all was in order, peeking out of the doors and whisking around with bottles of champagne for the high-class clientele gathered in the ballroom. Jesse carefully watched everyone that came in and out. There were people among the crowd of guests he recognized, including a few high-profile celebrities. Hollywood personalities strived to be on the same level as the person they were in attendance to see: Princess Amira Sabine. Even in Los Angeles, it wasn’t every day you ran into actual royalty.
Jesse read up on Princess Amira. Before he was told that the Edgewater Agency was being considered among a short list of contractors who would have the honor of working with the Princess during her stay in the United States, he had not heard of her. She came from Demani, a small oil-rich country with ties to Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. Apparently, this generation of the royal family followed few of the rules of tradition. Amira’s older brother Jamaal had abdicated the crown several years before and immigrated to Sweden, where he now had a wife and a young son. Without her brother chasing dreams of the throne, it appeared that the burden of the royal responsibility would settle on Amira’s shoulders.
Jesse had her vital stats committed to memory: Amira Sabine was twenty-two years old, 5’5, and known for her athletic ability. The Princess liked her sports; snowboarding, boxing, running. She had traveled around the globe from the time she was a kid, and would probably circle it a few more times before she got bored. He’d heard her described as a role model, an innovator, even something of a rebel. Though he was in attendance representing Edgewater in an official capacity, it would have been disingenuous to say he wasn’t interested in meeting the woman behind the hype.
Standing with his back against the wall, he scanned the crowd. The guests all seemed to be doing what they should be: talking quietly among themselves, downing alcohol and snacks, checking their cell phones for one last time before switching them off for the duration of the event. His back was against the hall which leads to the kitchen; he could feel footfalls of people moving around in the kitchen, distantly hear the chatter of people working inside. For a brief time in his teens, he’d worked in a hotel kitchen, and he remembered the hustle and bustle which was necessary in order to make any event flow smoothly. Jesse checked his watch: 10:54 AM. They were right on time.
At exactly 11:00 AM, Princess Amira Sabine took her place at the podium.
She stood for a moment and smiled at the crowd as they rose to give her a standing ovation.
Jesse had seen pictures of her but none did the real woman any justice. Her long, wavy dark hair flowed well past her shoulders. She had bright brown eyes, gold-toned skin, and a slight frame. She wore a white dress and jacket, and a heart shaped locket around her neck.
“Thank you so much,” Amira said as the crowd finally settled back into their seats. “It’s both my privilege and a pleasure to be with you today,” she began.
A movement from the left caught Jesse’s eye.
A man in a waiter’s uniform passed him and went to stand a few feet away from him.
“…unfortunately, we meet in this beautiful venue today to talk about people who have not had the kind of opportunities which most of us enjoy. There are still millions around the world who lack the resources we take for granted: running water, free primary school education, a chance to receive basic medical care…” Amira continued.
Jesse watched as the waiter fidgeted with his tie. He was sweating.
“And because these basic necessities are unavailable to them, it’s easy to say that this is just the way that things are. That it can’t be changed. Some will even tell you that these children can’t be reached, or that they aren’t worth the effort. But I am here to tell you today there is no such thing as a child who is unworthy of the help, or incapable of being reached. Our future depends on how many of these young people we can uplift.”
There was a flurry of applause, and again it was a few moments before the crowd settled down.
Jesse took one step forward. He spotted a bulge in the back of the waiter’s jacke
t, and his hand was moving towards it.
***
Amira saw movement—a man at the back of the room tackling another. At first, she thought she should probably continue speaking. She saw security guards moving towards the men. She thought it might have been some kind of personal skirmish, quickly solved once both men were shown the door.
And then she saw the barrel of a gun.
She hit the floor behind the podium. The crowd screamed. A chandelier crashed into the floor, and even though she couldn’t see the audience from her hiding spot she could feel the vibrations of running feet through the floor.
“Princess!” arms latched around her waist and lifted her from the floor. Before she had a chance to even speak, she was being whisked out of the ballroom by two guards.
“What the hell happened?” Amira demanded.
No one answered. The guards were too busy coordinating the effort to get her out of the hotel.
She was rushed into a back room, and then down a concrete and cinder block corridor which led to a black limousine. One of the guards spoke into his cell phone. “An attempt has been made on the Princess’ life, I repeat, an assassination attempt.”
After being shoved into the limousine, she turned back. There were others running down the hallway, more of the security contingent, who were being assigned to follow in decoy vehicles. She caught the glimpse of one man, with light brown skin, curly hair, and wide blue eyes.
The driver powered up the windows and pulled away just as she was about to speak.
***
“Excuse me, you need to come with us,” the man said.
Jesse smiled. The man was basically a range of muscles in, with a shock of dark hair and narrow eyes. His slight accent added a pleasant lilt to his voice, but there was no mistaking the attitude of menace in his posture. They were standing in the employee’s section of the parking lot. Once the shooter was detained, he followed the team back through the myriad of hallways. He was relieved to see that the Princess had emerged unharmed.
“Easy there. I’m with you. I was brought in by your boss, Hamid.”
“Who are you, exactly?” he questioned.
“I’m Jesse Barrington,” he replied. “I’m from Edgewater Agency. And your name?”
“I’ve never heard of you,” the muscle took a step closer.
“I’d suggest you back up and give me some space,” Jesse replied.
“Gentlemen,” a male voice called.
A man in a gray suit emerged from a black SUV. His hair was silver though he was fit; his face was smooth of lines, except for the ones which gathered around his eyes when he smiled. Jesse had spoken to the man over the phone at length but this was their first face-to-face meeting.
The muscle threw a look over his shoulder. “Hamid. This guy says you sent for him?”
“I did, indeed. Charlie. Stand down. Mr. Barrington is with us.”
Hamid came forward and shook hands with Jesse. “Seeing as you just disarmed an active shooter, you’re definitely hired.”
***
Jesse joined Hamid in his car. The driver took them west, towards the freeway. “You’ll have to forgive Charlie,” Hamid said. “He’s been with the Princess since he was a teen and he’s highly protective of her,” he said. “Which is one of the reasons I wanted to retain Edgewater in the first place. The majority of her staff are good people but they know Amira too well to be as efficient as I would like them to be.”
“How so?” Jesse asked.
“The Princess is quite persuasive,” he said, loosening his tie. “There are some things that need to be done for her benefit that won’t be to her liking. And the person in the job has to be able to do it.”
“I’d like to know how this guy slipped past. He was with the catering team, which means it was probably planned at least a couple weeks in advance,” Jesse said. His mind rushed with possibilities. He wanted to call David back at his office, but he needed privacy for the inquiries he needed to make. He would have to wait. In the meantime, he would text Kiefer some information.
Jesse asked Hamid another question. “Tell me again, when did you first become aware of threats against her?”
“Amira gets a lot of threats. She doesn’t follow a traditional lifestyle for a woman, much less a royal, so you can imagine,” Hamid sighed. “The first time there was a real incidence was three months ago at a hotel in Florida. The staff found a letter addressed to Amira at the hotel; it was derogatory in nature, and though there was no implicit threat, there was one implied. Something about a woman not knowing how to follow tradition and need to be put in her place, and that entailing thing which she would find unpleasant. Later that evening, a bouquet of flowers were left at the desk, which was supposed to be delivered to the room which she was staying at. No note, but Amira was quite sure it came from whoever had sent the letter earlier in the day.
“That’s odd,” Jesse said. “Did she say why she thought that?”
“We thought it was meant to scare her rather than by anyone who wanted to kill her. That was at the beginning of this… American speech tour, as she calls it,” he said. “I told her then that I thought she should postpone until things calmed down. She wouldn’t have it. Her parents agreed with me but Amira still wouldn’t listen. She managed to get them to allow her to come out here anyway.”
Allow? Jesse thought. She had to ask her parent’s permission to travel at twenty-two years old? But then she came from a different culture and he had to be mindful of that. It was still hard for him to get his mind around. By the time he was sixteen years old he pretty much came and went as he pleased, as long as he observed curfews on school nights. When he was eighteen he was already living in his own house and working two jobs. He had the option to stay home and go to college if he had gotten a scholarship. But he didn’t want to abide by his parent's rules when it came to living in their house. He couldn’t imagine having to ask anyone permission for anything beyond his teens.
“Your guess is she’ll still want to continue?” Jesse asked.
“You can bet on it,” Hamid said. “I admire how seriously she takes all of this. I will let her fill you in on all that she believes, you two will have enough time together to get the whole spiel directly from her,” he said. “It just makes it much harder to protect someone who insists on remaining in the public eye. I’d hoped that things wouldn’t get this serious quickly.”
“I will do everything in my power to keep her safe. And I will have all of Edgewater’s resources behind me.”
“I’m sure,” Hamid said. “I’ve heard good things about the agency, and I like that you’re off the radar of the usual security used by celebrities and public figures here. But I must warn you. The most difficult part of this job will be Amira herself.”
***
The house that the Princess was taken to was a home in the Hollywood Hills. It was owned by a millionaire who rented out the space for half the year, and it had been reserved as a contingency. Since the last incident in the hotel, her security had started reserving a fall back residence for her in each city she traveled to, just in case regular hotel accommodations were not safe enough. It was a defensible space; there was only one road in and out, and the view would allow her guards a chance to see anyone attempting to advance upon them.
Amira sat in the living room, watching as Hamid’s SUV came up the narrow lane leading to the house. She’d already been asked twice to go to the bedroom, but she had no intention of leaving until she saw all of her men had gotten back from the hotel. Someone had turned the television on, but there had been no mention of the shooting… yet. She wasn’t sure if that meant people had been paid off to be quiet about it, or if she just wasn’t newsworthy enough for the network to break into regular programming. She wasn’t happy with either possibility.
She jumped up when the doorbell rang. As she expected it was Hamid, and he had another man with him.
This was the stranger she’d seen briefly in the parking lot
of the hotel; the combination of his pale blue eyes and light brown skin made him hard to miss. Hamid introduced him as Jesse.
Amira looked from him to Hamid. “This is the guard we talked about?”
“I will be your guard,” Jesse interjected. “But I am also quite a bit more than that. I wouldn’t mind discussing my credentials with you, but in the meantime, I think we should get you moved again.”
“Why?” Amira asked.
“Because this is all too conspicuous. We just arrived here in a procession of black cars. We don’t know how complicated this person—or persons—mission is but for safety we have to assume there is more than one person involved and that they have access to vehicles and surveillance. My people are already working on holding off the press for a little bit, no small feat for a public shooting, but that will give us some time, maybe about thirty minutes.”
“That’s crazy,” it was Charlie who spoke up, though the other guards who stood there seemed to share his sentiment. “We can’t trust this man.”
“Don’t forget your place!” Hamid said. He turned to Jesse. “What do you suggest?”
“We need a regular vehicle, nothing ostentatious. Something big enough for us to take three of your best men. “Princess…”
“Amira,” she interrupted him. “Please call me by my first name.”
“Very well,” Jesse agreed with a nod. “Amira, do you have something casual that you can change into?”
She looked down at her white sheath dress. There were smudges on the sides of it. “Well. I was going to have to anyway. The only thing casual I brought with me are my jogging clothes. But those are at the hotel.”
“I had one of my men get your things, Amira,” Hamid said. “Your suitcases are in the car.”
“That will work fine,” Jesse said. I trust you’ve got a pair of sunglasses, too?”
