by Dana Volney
It had been two years since her honorable discharge. The pain still hit in waves out of nowhere, as did the bright flashes of fire and piercing sound of gunfire.
Their protection tactics had been flawed—flaws she didn’t allow in her own company.
“There’s only one problem,” Louis finally continued.
She held the receiver away from her head to clear her throat. “Only one?”
“He doesn’t want your services.”
“Oh, cool. Yeah, no problem, I love protecting people who don’t want it.”
Headstrong men and women hated listening to someone telling them what to do, even if it was to keep them alive, but they did like knowing they were safe. Her hard-ass reputation preceded her, ironically landing her the high-profile clients. Clients had been attacked on her watch but never killed, and she didn’t plan to start a precedent now.
On the other side of the phone she heard keys jingle. “I’ll work on him. I want you to make some calls on your end to be up to speed on what or who specifically we’re dealing with.”
The type of calls Louis was talking about weren’t numbers in the phone book, online, or even a black book.
“If there really is a problem.” He thinks Eliam has a hit out on him?
“Better safe than sorry.”
Contracts on people’s lives were very serious, not run-of-the-mill assignments, and not something just anyone was able to coordinate.
By the sound of it, she was gaining a high-maintenance client—she’d be sure to charge him up front. She’d taken on a lot of debt with the security company, and she refused to pay her team, who were all veterans, a subpar wage. People who served in the military shouldn’t worry about living in poverty after service to their country.
• • •
Eliam fired up his silver metallic Dodge Challenger, and symphony music lulled in his speakers. He pressed the button on his steering wheel to increase the sound of “Scheherazade.” What an impeccable day—everything had gone according to plan, and he was now in the perfect position to make his dreams come true. He whipped through the dark streets he’d know with his eyes closed, letting the day sink in.
The brisk night air brought peace and excitement. His first full presidential day was in front of him, and he couldn’t wait—his head was full of so many ideas for his company’s future. His future. A genuine sense of satisfaction fell over him and relaxed his entire body further into the leather seat.
The bright glare of headlights in his rearview mirror caught his eye. They approached too quickly. He glanced around at the two-lane road, which was completely open. Ridiculous drivers.
“Go around me,” he growled to the no-name driver who threatened fender-to-bumper contact any second. All he’d wanted to do was enjoy a nice drive home, and this jackoff was ruining it.
Just as he glanced, for the umpteenth time, in his rearview mirror, he heard a thud and his car leapt forward. Both hands grasped the steering wheel as he fought to stay on his side of the yellow line. He glanced ahead—no cars—then behind, but there wasn’t a car there now, either.
What the…
Crunch. The asshole was on the left side, ramming his car, about the size of Eliam’s, right into the driver’s side. Metal colliding and the sound of his side mirror being torn off wore loudly in his ears. The Challenger was forced right, and he swerved left hard to correct the path without flipping his car or going off the road into a building, fence, or any number of hard objects by the road.
Is this really happening?
Thunk. Another metal-to-metal hit, and it made his entire body cringe. Adrenaline filled his ears and sank into his gut, tightening every muscle and tendon. This time Eliam missed a sturdy streetlight by mere inches. Game on. He turned his steering wheel left sharply, nailing the bastard on the passenger side. Hard. The black car overcorrected, and screeching noises pierced through his car. He turned in his seat in time to see the bastard’s car not stop, but accelerate to catch up to him in no time.
They were neck and neck, and he didn’t know his next move. How did car chases and assaults usually end in the movies? Cars flipping over, people dying. Hell no. He was not dying tonight. Just as the car was even with him, he lightly braked and rammed his no-longer-cherry car into the other. The slam wasn’t as hard as he would’ve liked, barely knocking the other car off its route. He couldn’t keep this up much longer—his nerves and his car weren’t in great shape.
Trying to keep one eye on the street and one on the asshole trying to drive him off of it, Eliam snuck a look at his speed. They were going sixty miles an hour on a road with a limit of thirty. Eliam slammed on his brakes—there was a curve just ahead that wouldn’t fair well for either one of them at this speed, and since he clearly wasn’t the experienced driver in this situation, his chances weren’t ideal.
The gun in his nightstand drawer would look pretty good right now. How far was this going? He was just about to push the Call button on the dashboard screen for 911 when the black car’s taillights disappeared around the corner. Eliam came to a full stop, barely breathing. Were there more of them? He swiveled his neck in every direction. No one was around. Should he wait here and call the cops? Nope. He was getting the hell out of the area.
He checked the streets around him and turned right, not a direct route to his building but it would do. He wasn’t going to chance the mysterious car waiting for him up ahead. Continuously checking his rearview mirror, not using his blinker, and driving thirty over the limit, the otherwise ten-minute drive took only four, but it still felt like an eternity.
When he pulled up to the Breeland Building, Jordan, his favorite valet, raised his pierced brow.
“Call the body shop. It’s going to need some work,” Eliam said in his best authoritative voice, an attempt to get ahold of himself in the familiar surroundings.
“Yes, sir.” Jordan shook his teenaged head, and wispy brown hair fell into his eyes. “You okay?”
Dark green eyes met his and he looked down at his hands holding out the keys. To his absolute horror, he was trembling—not a good look on a man of his build and position.
“Yes. Just a little issue on the road tonight.” He dropped the keys into Jordan’s outstretched hand. He started to say he needed the police to be called, then snapped his mouth shut. He barely had a description of the car to give them. He needed a company that would protect him. He needed a bodyguard.
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Praise for Protecting the Prince:
“[Eliam] is the type of man that I'd love to take home with me ... Volney has definitely created a light, fun read that melds romance with suspense in a realistic way.” —5 stars, Pure Jonel
“Protecting the Prince will keep your eyes on the page and your mind on high alert. It's the perfect blend of action and romance.” —Jami Wagner, author of The Black Alcove Series
For more from Dana Volney, check out:
Paradise Point
"Volney’s characters fit perfectly together. Liv's feisty attitude and Adam's cool demeanor will put a smile on your face. They might even have you blushing as you think of a time or two when you did or said something similar. I know I did … If you enjoy danger mixed with falling in love, Paradise Point is the book for you!" —Tumbleweed Book Reviews, 4.5 stars
"The dialogue is witty and natural, the narrative flows nicely, including beautiful descriptions of nature and the marina. The plot is fast-paced . . . a well-plotted and intriguing novel." —Long and Short Reviews, 4.5 stars
Holiday Hoopla
“There's a lot to appreciate in this quick read of fifty-seven pages, including an engaging plot, believable conflict, and two very likable main characters. It was a pleasure to escape to Casper for Christmas, and I look forward to indulging in future works from this talented new author.” —The Romance Reviewer, 4 stars
Christmas Clash
"...had me hooked from the very first page
s. Christmas Clash is a fabulous holiday read but can certainly be enjoyable regardless of time of year." —Women on Writing, 5 stars
"Despite the title, holiday references are minimal, so readers will delight in this solidly written and satisfying romance no matter the time of year or the temperature outside. Well done, Ms. Volney!" -- The Romance Reviews, 4 stars
Candlelight Conspiracy
“This has to be my favorite romance written by Dana Volney yet!” —author Mary Billiter
The December Deal
“Romance, unforgettable characters and a joy to read, what more can a gal ask for?” —4 stars, Pure Jonel
In the mood for more Crimson Romance?
Check out The White Lily by Susanne Matthews at CrimsonRomance.com.
