Guarding Jess

by Shannon Curtis

  Guarding Jess

  By Shannon Curtis

  Jessica Pennington’s work as an etiquette coach requires her to be polite and proper at all times, especially now that she has a book coming out. The only thing that rattles her reserve is the increasingly violent emails and texts from her persistent stalker. With the book launch in jeopardy, she reluctantly hires a bodyguard.

  Noah Samuels hates stuck-up, prim people like Jessica. He’s more the blunt, straightforward type. But to advance up the ranks at McCormack Security, he has to take the high-profile assignment. After a near miss on his first day on the job, Noah realizes that the stalker isn’t just hype cooked up to sell books—the threat is real.

  As the stalker escalates from letters to letter bombs, Noah sees a vulnerable side of Jessica that rouses more than just his protective instincts. But can she let down her guard long enough to trust Noah before it’s too late?

  64,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  I love May. In my part of the world, May is the beginning of two things: beach season and festival season. Granted, beach season is just barely starting in May, but it’s still starting. And with the unseasonably warm winter we’re having, perhaps it won’t be too cold for the beach, even in early May. As for the festivals, well, in my area we’re spoiled for choice. From April to October we have everything from BBQ and beach festivals, to apple, strawberry and watermelon festivals—even a river festival. It seems like every week there’s something new to look forward to!

  But if festivals don’t interest you it doesn’t mean you can’t have something to look forward to as well. Each week in May we showcase a variety of new Carina Press titles.

  This month we’re proud to present debut author Cynthia Justlin’s compelling novel Edge of Light. A true spine-tingling and thrilling romantic suspense, this is one that will have you on the edge of your seat and wondering where this author has been! Get ready for a fantastic read.

  Kicking off May, we have Brook Street: Rogues by Ava March, which finishes up her fantastic male/male historical novella trilogy. Releasing along with Ava is paranormal romantic suspense author Alexia Reed and her novel Hunting the Shadows.

  Later in May are three historical romances joining the Carina Press lineup. From Jennifer Bray-Weber comes a swashbuckling pirate adventure, The Siren’s Song. Alyssa Everett gives us a charming and passionate Regency romance in Ruined by Rumor. The White Swan Affair by Elyse Mady is the third of our historical romance offerings this month.

  Not quite historical romance but in the historical period comes Christine Bell’s new steampunk romance The Bewitching Tale of Stormy Gale. Join Christine as she takes you on a romantic adventure through time.

  Two erotic romance books are sure to satisfy those craving a slightly naughtier story. Check out Let Me In by Callie Croix, a hot BDSM novella, and Daire St. Denis’s erotic ménage romance Party of Three.

  Rounding out the month of May are releases from two returning Carina Press authors. Guarding Jess by Shannon Curtis is the next novel in her McCormack Security Agency series and the follow-up to her debut title, Viper’s Kiss. Rebecca Rogers Maher offers up a satisfying and emotional, yet sexy, read in her contemporary romance novella Snowbound with a Stranger.

  I hope you enjoy this month’s new releases as much as we’ve enjoyed bringing them to you.

  We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to generalinquiries@carinapress.com. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  www.carinapress.com

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Mavis Winnel, for passing down a love for the written word to her daughter, and her granddaughter, and well, even more daughters of daughters. Also, to Carol and Jessica, two lovely ladies who don’t realize how they inspire others…

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many hands that help with the creation of a book, particularly those whose experience and expertise far excel my own. I would like to sincerely thank the very helpful and generous Jacqueline Whitmore for the time she took to answer my questions on all things etiquette, and Dame June Dally-Watkins for her grace and inspiration. Also, my thanks to the SFPD Community Relations Unit, for their patience and generosity, Ann McCutcheon for her psychological insights, Kitty Bucholtz, for her “But why?”, Jessica Andersen, for her much-valued guidance and mentorship, and the Writers’ Coven, for their continued support, wisdom and wit—okay, and the Timtams.

  Thank you to the Carina Press and Harlequin teams, for your support and experience, especially the ever-patient Denise.

  Mostly though, my sincere and heartfelt appreciation must go to my children, and my husband, my partner. Without your support, your patience, this story could not be written.

  Yes, a lot of patience went into this book.

  Thank you, one and all.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Fist cracked against jaw with bone-crunching accuracy. Noah Samuels ducked as his next assailant tried to knock his head from his shoulders. Breathing calmly, he brought his knee up. Noah made contact with a muscled midriff, heard the “oomph” as his opponent doubled over and kneed the man in the face. Raising his arm to block a blow from the side, Noah twisted his shoulders and jabbed the second assailant in the chest, then coiled his fist and punched the face. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He relaxed his muscles, controlled his breathing, waiting for the next attack. He knew a fleeting moment of anticipation before he realized his opponents weren’t getting up.

  “C’mon, Ryker, you can do better than that,” he growled. Noah had a whole lot of pent-up energy and aggression, and he was only just getting started.

  Mal Ryker held up a hand in surrender as he shook his head. “I’m out, man. Go hurt someone else.” Mal rolled over to his knees, groaning.

  “Are you beating up my newbies, Noah?” A sardonic drawl echoed across the gym, and Noah bit back his frustration as he turned to greet his boss and friend, Reese McCormack.

  “Are you hiring sissies, now, Reese?” he shot back. He unclenched his fists. He fought the frustration gripping his body. Taking it out on his boss wouldn’t do him a lick of good. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, hence the training assignment. Sweat dripped off his chin and down his ne
ck. The air conditioning hummed, creating cool drafts across his heated body. The groans of the McCormack Security Agency trainees in the background didn’t cover Reese’s snort.

  “They were fine in the interviews.” Reese glanced at his new staff with pity. Four men were sprawled about on the edges of the mat in various stages of consciousness, and Mal Ryker crawled over to join them before collapsing again.

  Noah waited for Reese to join him on the middle of the sparring mat. His boss made regular visits to the gym, but he rarely interrupted a training session. Noah’s jaw tightened. He should know. He’d been on the training roster for four months now. Training? More like babysitting, with these rookies. He chafed at his enforced recuperation. He wanted to get back in the field, be of some use, somewhere. He waited.

  “So, how’s your arm?” Reese asked, lifting his chin to indicate the scar on Noah’s left biceps.

  “Fine,” Noah lied. It throbbed. He’d have to rub in some liniment after the training session. A massage wouldn’t go astray, but it would also be a display of weakness for the other staff at the McCormack Security Agency. The massage would have to wait. He wanted to give the impression of being fighting fit. He shot a derisive glance at his trainees. Shouldn’t be too hard.

  Reese cocked an eyebrow. “No twinges? No pain? How’s your range of movement?”

  “Fine,” Noah lied again, and waited.

  Reese didn’t disappoint. He let fly with a flurry of kicks and punches, trying to exploit the weakness. Noah blocked each one, a smile tweaking his lips as he finally found a worthy sparring partner.

  For the next few minutes only the sound of flesh hitting flesh was heard in the gym, interrupted by the occasional grunt. Noah deftly dodged and blocked most of Reese’s blows as they moved across the mat. He even landed a couple of hits on his boss. That felt good. Neither of them pulled their punches.

  He knew what Reese was doing. He was testing his readiness for duty. Noah sighed. He was past ready, and didn’t appreciate being put through his paces like a rookie. With a quick series of elbow and knee strikes, he maneuvered his hip directly in front of Reese and neatly flipped him over his shoulder.

  Reese hit the mat hard, his laughter coming out in a wheeze. He held up his hand.

  “Uncle,” he chuckled as he rolled to his knees. “Now I know why my trainees are already putting in for hazardous pay.”

  Noah held out his hand and helped his boss straighten up. He purposely used his injured arm to do so.

  “I have a job for you,” Reese told him, and walked over to a folder he’d placed on a weight bench near the door.

  Noah arched an eyebrow. About damn time. He was itching to go back on active duty.

  Reese handed him the folder and Noah opened it. A photo was clipped to the inside cover. His body tightened, proving he was at least fit enough for some activity. Earnest blue eyes stared out of an oval face framed by a sleek blond bob. High cheekbones and an upturned nose gave the attractive woman a haughty look, while her expensive earrings and pearl necklace hinted at class and wealth. She looked beautiful. And uptight. He pursed his lips. He was familiar with the false, flashy type. That knowledge didn’t stop him from taking a second, longer look at the captivating face, though.

  “That’s Jessica Pennington,” Reese informed him. “Someone’s paying her some uncomfortable attention.”

  “Stalker?” Noah shrugged. “Why doesn’t she go to the police?”

  “The stalker’s identity is unknown, and you know how the police handle these cases. It’s like boxing with a ghost. Can’t arrest or put a restraining order against an unknown person. This case needs to be handled discreetly. She’s just released a lifestyle book on etiquette, and is about to launch a major publicity campaign for it. Her agent and the publisher don’t want any bad publicity. And they want to ensure her safety, of course.”

  Noah snorted. “Etiquette? Is there really a market for good manners?” The memory of forced protocol training from his father reared its ugly head. He deliberately quashed it. He’d turned his back on that, and more, a lifetime ago. “I thought any publicity was good publicity?”

  Reese’s lips twitched. “Somehow I think Ms. Pennington would disagree with you. Anyway, we’ve been asked to provide her with a security detail until the stalker is caught.”

  “You want me to mind Miss Prissy?” He thought he’d be getting a real mission, not another babysitting job. “What about one of the newbies? This would be good for them to cut their teeth on.” He jerked his head to the supine bodies on the mat.

  Reese shook his head. “No, we need to put one of the unit men on this one,” he commented quietly. “And with your background, you’re the obvious choice.”

  Noah scowled. Reese had been his unit commander in the Special Forces and knew him well. As did Drew Michaels, Luke Fletcher and Ryan Brennan, his colleagues at McCormack Security Agency, and former brothers-in-arms. They handled private investigations, personal security as well as corporate security and some government contracts that were outside the normal realm of the security operations. Not exactly black ops, but close enough. Still, he was pretty sure Reese wasn’t alluding to his prowess in combat. His teeth clamped. His father was a former diplomat, and Noah had grown up in the company of champagne-chugging high-flyers.

  “Why one of us?” Noah asked. “What publisher is willing to pay that much to look after one of their writers?” McCormack Security didn’t come cheap.

  Reese hesitated. “Apparently Ms. Pennington went to boarding school with Eleanor Lyon. Her publisher is one of Jeff Lyon’s subsidiary companies.”

  “Oh.” Noah sighed. Well, there you go. Eleanor and Jefferson Lyon were the siblings of Zack Lyon, a comrade they’d fought beside and lost in Afghanistan. Zack’s brother, Jeff, was a billionaire, and had helped all of the members of the unit in one way or another upon their return from duty. Without Jefferson Lyon, there wouldn’t be a McCormack Security Agency.

  Noah nodded in resignation. Babysitting a society belle was the least he could do for the Lyon family, and hey, if it proved he was fit enough for more intense operations, he would grin and bear it. “Fine. Where am I going?”

  “Ms. Pennington lives in San Francisco. The jet is ready, and Oliveria Vega, Ms. Pennington’s agent, is waiting for you.”

  Noah nodded. “I’m on my way.” He strode toward the door.

  “Oh, Noah?” Reese called out to him. “I’d shower first.” Noah smirked and walked away. Out of his boss’s sight, he gingerly rubbed his aching arm.

  * * *

  Reese turned back to his trainees and sighed. He clapped his hands to get their attention.

  “Okay, go hit the showers, and then spend the rest of the day with Ryan in the War Room. You can work on familiarizing yourself with our surveillance equipment.”

  A couple of the men stirred. One groaned. Ryker raised a hand in acknowledgement before it flopped back down on the mat, as if even that movement cost too much effort. Reese grinned. He knew Noah was eager to get back out in the field. This mission was as much to help Noah ease back into active duty as it was to save his trainees.

  * * *

  “But why can’t I be fashionably late and make an entrance?”

  Because that would be arrogant and rude. Jessica Pennington bit back her instinctive response and smiled at the client in the back row who’d asked the question. Rachael MacNeil was the wife of the newly appointed CEO for the Spicer’s chain of high-end department stores. For some reason the woman was particularly challenging in today’s class.

  Ooze tranquility. Breathe, and ooze tranquility. Jessica broadened her smile.

  “We always try to be punctual when invited to a dinner party or an event. Fifteen minutes leeway is usually acceptable, but any later than that and people might see it as a sign of disrespect. Of course, if you are
unavoidably detained it’s best to call and inform the host or hostess of your revised arrival time. After you apologize, of course.” No matter how many times Jessica tried to gently remind her, the woman always seemed to forget to consider others in her dealings.

  “Does it really make that much of a difference when I arrive?” Rachael pursed her scarlet lips as she waited for an answer.

  Ooze tranquility. Jessica’s smile didn’t waver, although her cheeks were beginning to ache. “Let’s look at it this way. If you were hosting a dinner party, and had spent considerable time, effort, and in some cases, money, on making your dinner a special experience for your guests, you would probably like your guests to turn up on time, yes?”

  “Of course,” Rachael snapped.

  Jessica nodded. “Yes, because you’ve planned a menu, and you’ve worked with a certain schedule in mind when it comes to preparing and serving the food. Tell me, if you had a guest who arrived late without apology or explanation, would you invite them again?”

  “Not likely,” Rachael snorted.

  Jessica tried to take a deep breath without appearing to. “Precisely. So if you want to be invited to those parties and events, and you want to build your social network, then you need to treat those people with the same respect and consideration you would like to receive yourself.”

  “Did you put that in your book?” asked Doris Jenkins, an older woman in the front row.

  Jessica nodded. “Yes, yes, I did.”

  “When is it coming out?” John Gumbly, an ambitious young executive, asked, stylus in hand, PDA on his desk.

  Jessica’s smile relaxed. Safe topic. “The book launch is in a month’s time, which reminds me…” She held up a finger and crossed to the desk at the front of the classroom. She lifted a small stack of cream envelopes and proceeded to hand them out to her students. “I would be honored if you would come as my guests to the launch,” she told them.

  There were exclamations of excitement as they each received their invitation.