by Nana Malone
Protecting the Heiress
Nana Malone
Contents
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
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Thank You
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About Nana Malone
One
Ariel…
I was going to kill Roone if he’d sent me on a wild goose chase. I needed a team, and I’d take any help I could get in building one. But I had my doubts.
Jax Reynolds was my best lead, and so far, I’d found him… lacking. I’d been watching him for a month. So far all he had done was drink, skulk around, and pretend to be some kind of investigator-bodyguard type of person. How was this guy supposed to help me?
Do you really have a choice?
No. I didn't. Besides, Roone would never steer me wrong. Maybe he knew something about this guy that I didn't.
In the month I’d watched Jax, he'd been tracking someone called Max Teller. From what I’d seen, Teller had been a very bad boy. At least I knew from watching Jax that he didn't suck at tailing people.
I also knew he drank too much. It was one thing to be undercover, but he was taking undercover work to new heights. Max Teller had been at the pub Porkbelly every night. Which meant Jax had been there too. But instead of just sitting down and watching the guy, quietly skulking in a corner like every other normal PI, he posted up at the bar and slammed drink after drink.
I rolled my eyes. What had I gotten myself into?
You have no choice. Make your move.
The fall from Royal Guard grace had been a steep one.
Doesn’t that apply to you, too?
Indeed, it did. But I had backing to start my own shop, thanks to King Sebastian, his wife and my bestie, Penny, and Roone my former partner and soon-to-be brother-in-law to the king. Basically, everyone I ever loved had put in all kinds of support, friend equity, and contacts. I refused to take their money. I had money saved up from working with the guard so long. I hadn't had to spend much of it and I’d made good investments, so I had enough to invest in the perfect location.
And before I could even blink, I had a roster of dozens of clients clamoring for my services. Some were easy enough that I could take care of them myself, basic network security kinds of things. I could manage all those clients. But also on that list waiting for me were clients that required actual physical presence, which meant I needed to hire some help quickly.
And Jax Reynolds was at the top of my list. Also on that list were Zia Barnes, a referral from Ethan, Tamsin Jacobs, a referral from Lucas, and Trace Lawson, a referral from my bestie. I had already interviewed Jameson Rhodes. She’d been new to the guard three years ago, but then she’d quit suddenly. With six of us on board, I could get started. Most jobs didn't require around-the-clock service, so I would be fine starting there.
I just prayed to God I didn't let everyone down. When I’d joined the Royal Guard, I never imagined that I would have to leave. That the palace would no longer be my home. But thanks to dear old dad, it wasn't my home, not anymore. So I had to make the best of it, which meant getting my ass in gear.
I followed Jax out of the pub. The guy he was tailing was some public-school-educated guy with money running out of his nose. From my quick look under the hood, Maxwell Teller had been a naughty boy, stealing corporate secrets. The company had hired Jax to get the proof and catch Teller in the act. I didn't know why they didn't just fire him after they suspected him, but there might be more to it than I knew.
Chiswick at night was still quite pretty in the main part of the village. But as I drove away from the high street, it became more industrial. Warehouses, dark alleys, chain-link fences. Signs that practically screamed Keep the fuck out, dodgy as hell in here.
Sure enough, Teller walked right on into dodge city. And Jax wasn't far behind him, which meant it was time to double-check my weapons. I zipped up my leather jacket, pulled up the hoodie attachment to cover my hair, and kept to the shadows.
From behind a dumpster, I watched as Reynolds made his approach on Teller, who was talking to someone else. I couldn't hear everything they were saying, but there was an exchange of words. And Jax’s tone said everything. Pure sarcasm, derision. He loathed him. Or maybe it wasn't personal, and that was just how he talked.
There was a minor scuffle, and the man talking to Teller tried to run. When that didn't pan out, he attempted to hit Jax, which really didn’t work out. Next thing I knew, Jax had the guy patted down and tied to a chain-link fence.
Teller tried to run, but Jax grabbed hold of him by the shirt collar before he could get too far. Teller struggled in his grip, and I could hear Jax muttering something to him, his tone low and menacing. And then Jax had him in a head lock.
It took a few seconds, but Teller ran out of air and down he went. Jax’s voice was a low murmur as he muttered, “Now, stay down, you arsehole.” He was patting down Teller when trouble showed its face.
Another man had been hiding in the shadows, and he had the barrel of his gun pressed against Jax’s neck.
I cursed under my breath. What? He didn't check to see if Teller had any friends or if the guy Teller was meeting came with anyone? Rookie mistake.
"Roone, are you sure about this guy?" I muttered to myself. Either way, I couldn't let him get shot in the back of the head. I made my calculations on what it would take to disarm the new guy while the barrel of his gun was at Jax's neck. Slowly, I approached, staying in the shadows. Surprise would have to work for me, and I hoped Jax was good at talking himself out of shit. I couldn't lose my new team member before he was actually even on my team.
My heart hammered in my chest as I watched Jax turn slowly, and he was talking. I could hear him better now. "What's the matter? Performance anxiety? You don't want to do it now?"
What the hell was he doing?
The assailant muttered something under his breath that I couldn't hear. And then I stepped out of the shadows, my own gun at the shorter man's neck. I whipped my hoodie off. "Tsk, tsk. Don't you boys know how to play nice?"
Jax's gaze flickered to me and then back to the guy between us. "Thanks for the assist, Red, but I'm good."
"Oh, yeah? You call this good? He was about to blow your head off."
"I promise, Red, I had it completely under control."
"Oh, sure you did."
The guy between us whipped his head back and forth. "Oi, if you two wankers can stop bickering, that would be great."
"Oh, you're in a hurry for me to shoot you?" I asked.
Jax chuckled. "I advise you to put your hands behind your back, let the pretty lady zip tie you, and wait patiently for the nick. I get the impression Red's handling some heavy weaponry there. She shoots, and you're going to get blood all over my nice jacket. And I love this jacket."
I glowered at him. "You'll have to do the zip-tying, if you don't mind."
He rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure, leave me to do all the work."
"You know what? Next time, I’ll let the guy blow your head off."
Jax flashed a grin at me, and I could tell that, like Roone, he had that charming, roguish kind of swagger that women probably loved. Just not this woman. "Yo
u know, I'm still waiting for you to say thank you."
Jax zip-tied the guy and then secured him to a nearby pole. He slapped the guy on the cheek and grinned. "Don't move."
Then he turned his attention back to me. "Thank you. Now, do you mind me asking who the fuck you are?"
"I'm Ariel Scott. Roone Ainsley sent me. He's under the impression we could help each other."
Jax's brows lifted, and his gaze swept over me. I could see it, even in the dark. Mild interest. Curiosity. The hint of attraction. "Red, if you wanted a date, you probably should have approached me at the pub. But instead you tailed me over here and interrupted my business."
"Please, you were so busy drinking at the bar you didn't even see me."
"Oh, you've been on my tail for at least two weeks. Of course I saw you."
"No way you saw me. You're making some educated guesses right now. And P.S., you shouldn't drink on a job."
"Ginger ale, love. You think I don't know any better?"
"God, I will kill Roone. Why did he send me to you?"
"I don't know, love. But whatever his reason, it's not happening. I don't need any help."
"Are you insane? Your life is in the shitter."
"Huh, says the redhead skulking in the shadows. Something tells me if you're looking for me to help you, your life's not much better off than mine."
He had a point there. "Roone said we could help each other, so I'm here."
"Yeah, Roone, good mate. But even good mates make mistakes. I'm not interested in whatever you're selling." He brushed past me.
"Where are you going?"
He dug through the pockets of Max Teller, who was coming to and moaning. Jax fished out a flash drive then muttered, "Thanks, Max. Pleasure doing business with you. Do try and stay out of trouble now, won't you?" Then he stood and headed back toward the alley exit.
"Wait. You haven't even heard my proposal."
"I don't need to hear it. I'm not interested."
What the hell? I followed after him. "You haven't even heard it yet. And, let's face it, you owe me now."
"No, I don’t owe you. I didn't ask you to follow me. Like I said, you're not that good at it."
"Oh, I'm excellent at it."
He laughed. "I've seen you at the pub every day this week. Your hair. Either cover it or dye it. I saw you outside my flat too."
"Oh, really? Just at the pub and outside your flat? Where else did you see me?"
His brows furrowed. "Does it matter?"
I grinned. "Oh, you didn't see me everywhere. Interesting."
"Where else were you?" He crossed his arms.
"Teller's office. I was one of the security guards. I also managed to get in as a day temp. I guess you missed that one. I knew you were tailing him, so I figured it'd be easier to tail you if I could get in closer to Teller."
He lifted one brow then and assessed me more shrewdly. "What day?"
I shrugged. "Tuesday last week."
"I knew it. I saw you at the sandwich cart."
I grinned at him. "Yeah, but you didn't recognize me, did you?"
"You looked familiar."
"Did I? Or did you just want to bang me? Don't think I didn't notice you staring at my ass."
He shrugged. "I'm a bloke. I'm born to look. Besides, redheads aren't my type."
"That’s okay. Overbearing roguish assholes aren’t my type either. But I need your help, and you're going to give it to me."
He chuckled low, and the sound was rich, deep, and mellow. "Oh yeah? What makes you say that?"
"Because if you help me, I can get you the one thing that you want."
The glower turned more into a sneer then. "You don't know what I want."
"Oh, but I do. You want back in the Royal Guard. And I can give that to you."
Two
Jax…
The banging at my front door was incessant. I had woken up early as always, but I'd been too knackered to bother to get out of bed. What the fuck had happened last night?
First that little shit had gotten the drop on me. Then I'd been saved by the crazy redhead. The crazy, persistent redhead who was banging on my front door at the moment.
There she was in my camera's view, knocking away. She was cute. Irritating. Bossy. And determined.
I sat up and glared at my clock. Six-bloody-thirty a.m. Apparently, she was also a goddam pain in the ass.
After I’d relieved Teller of the flash drive in the alley, she'd followed me all the way back to my car, insistent that we were going to talk. She laid out her options. Me, coming back to the Winston Isles, working for her, helping her start her business. And then in a year's time she said she could get me back in the Royal Guard.
That was the goal. It was the only thing that mattered. Getting back to the Royal Guard.
Yeah, well, didn't you throw it away?
Yes, I had. I'd thought that Kyla was the one. She’d told me how much she wanted to have a family with me, and that was everything I’d ever wanted in my life. The family, the ruckus, the house with lots of kids running around everywhere. The life I’d had growing up.
When she got pregnant, she wanted me to leave the Guard. She said it was too dangerous and that she would rather I do something that didn't involve carrying a gun or potentially getting shot at.
I’d done what she asked. Of course, six months later, I’d found out the baby wasn't mine and that she'd been having an affair with her boss, the cross-eyed twat.
I'd given up everything for her. So I was back in London, doing a job I liked but that was hardly fulfilling. All because I'd made a misstep. And once you were out of the Guard, you were out of the Guard for good.
Or was I?
She shifted on her feet impatiently. "I know you're watching me. You think I can't see the camera? Open the door."
"Jesus fucking Christ," I muttered to myself as I shoved off the covers. It was still cold enough to make me grab a long-sleeve jumper off my dresser before heading downstairs to the door. When I yanked open the door, I glowered down at her. "Woman, do you know what time it is?"
"I happen to know that you wake up at five a.m. like clockwork. We're losing time."
I rolled my eyes. She didn't seem to care. She barged right by me and started stomping up my stairs. "Where's the kitchen?"
"Come right in, why don't you?"
"I need coffee, and then I can be more chipper."
"Sweetheart, I'm not sure I want to see you chipper."
She flipped me off and made a right toward my kitchen, finding it easily in the loft-like space. But when she opened my cupboards, she groaned. "Oh, what is wrong with you Brits and your fucking tea?"
I leisurely strolled into the kitchen and grinned as I leaned against the cupboard. "Well, if you weren't so rude, I would tell you where I've stashed some coffee."
She whirled around, red hair flying over her shoulders. "Oh my god, I'll do anything for coffee. I swear. I might even leave you alone for a couple of hours."
I rolled my eyes and reached above her to the top shelf where, even though she was tallish, she probably couldn't see. I pulled down some coffee pods and the coffee maker that Kyla had insisted on.
I plugged it in then quickly set it up for her before shoving in one of the pods. "Coffee. Now will you go away?"
"Sorry, I lied."
"Well, you don't say."
"Look, I wouldn't be all up your ass—"
"Careful sweetheart, I might like it like that."
A smirk lit her lips. "Hey, I don't judge. I need your help."
"You have a funny way of asking for it."
As the coffee brewed, I could see her practically dancing from foot to foot. She was a grade-A caffeine addict. Noted.
"What is it about my proposition that you don't like?"
"You mean besides the part about returning to the Winston Isles?"
"Everything in your file said you were a Royal Guard with distinction. You have friends. You have a network. Why wouldn
't you go back?"
Good question. Why wouldn't you?
After my parents' death, the Guard had been the only family I'd known. I knew it would hurt to see them on the island, still a unit that I wasn't part of and that I would never be part of again. "It's private."
"No. No, it's not. I have your files. I've seen it all. You were good at your job. And then you just packed up and left. And what, now you're a PI? I mean the flat's nice, but can that be really satisfying?"
I shrugged. "It's like sex. Even if it's bad, at least you're still having sex."
She rolled her eyes. When the coffee was done, she pulled her mug out and took a sip. No sugar no cream. Just straight black.
Okay then.
"Why me? Why are you here?"
"Because as annoying as he is, I trust Roone. Your name is the first one he gave me. He said I could count on you to watch my back and that you were looking for a chance back into the Guard. I can give you that chance. Why would you say no?"
"You don't know me. I don't know you. I don't make it a habit of jumping into bed with people I don't know."
She sputtered then, spraying coffee everywhere. "I beg to differ. Three weeks ago, you pulled some blonde out of a bar for—"
I scowled at her. "Never you mind that."
"Well you're the one who said—"
Jesus. She really had been tailing me for that long, and I hadn’t noticed? I cleared my throat. "Look. I appreciate the reference from Roone. He's a good mate. But I'm not going back."
She took another, more measured, sip of her coffee this time. "Oh, you're coming back.” She reached in her back pocket and plunked down a ticket. "That's for you. We leave tomorrow."
I laughed then. "Sure of yourself, aren’t you?"
