The Protector: The Complete C.I.A. Romance Series

by Lilian Monroe

  The promotion to Commercial Director came with a healthy pay raise and the condition that my complaint about Greg would be satisfied when he got a warning. I never understood why the Human Resources department didn’t take me more seriously, but at the end of the day not many women make it to the Director-level at a top advertising firm at my age. I weighed my options and for the most part, it was worth it. I hardly have to see him anyways.

  Rosie and I get to the Christmas tree and look at all 16 feet of it. The top of it grazes the ceiling.

  “So what do you want us to adjust? I think Greg is still looking over here,” Rosie asks, looking at the massive tree. It was almost too big to fit in the door. I had to beg and plead to get approval for it, saying that it wasn’t a Christmas party without a tree. It’s impeccably decorated and I already know that nothing needs to be adjusted.

  “Uh, let’s just lift this string of lights a bit. We can just move them around till he looks away.”

  I point to the other side of the tree and Rosie nods. I turn to the lights and am about to grab them when she makes a noise between a gasp and a yelp and I look at her. Her eyes are staring behind me before she flicks them to my face. She lifts her eyebrows up and gives me a knowing nod.

  It must be him. Immediately my heart starts beating faster and I hear the roar of every heartbeat pounding in my ears.

  It’s our elusive, mysterious, unbelievably sexy CEO. Zachary Lockwood. I feel my cheeks burning as Rosie glances back at him. I turn my head slowly and see him near the entrance of the office, shaking hands with one of the employees. His suit is navy with little white pinstripes. His chocolate brown hair is slicked back perfectly, with a crisp part down the side. He’s tall and athletic, with a chiseled jaw and unbelievably deep brown eyes. Not that I’ve noticed, or anything.

  I glance away quickly, trying to ignore the thumping of my heart. I’ve been admiring him from a distance ever since he took over and brought our firm back from the brink of bankruptcy. Rosie knows it, and constantly teases me whenever he makes an appearance at the office. Thankfully that doesn’t happen very often.

  “He doesn’t have a hot blonde model with him this time, maybe this is your chance!” Rosie whispers loudly with a grin.

  “Shut up,” I respond. “I’m sure he’s got a gaggle of girls waiting in the wings.”

  Rosie nods and my heart sinks a little. I know it’s probably true. He’s one of the richest and sexiest men in New York, and definitely way, way out of my league. Plus, he’s my boss! Even if I had a chance with him, it would definitely be inappropriate to pursue it.

  Suddenly I wish I wasn’t wearing a ridiculous light-up Christmas tree on my chest. I could be wearing anything else and it would be more flattering. Literally anything. A paper bag would look better than this thing.

  It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. He’s my boss. Even if he is attractive, we work together and fantasising about him is inappropriate. I shake my head and try to ignore the nervous excitement at the pit of my stomach. I take another sip of wine and nod to Rosie and the string of lights. She grins but says nothing, and instead turns to the tree and follows my lead.

  2

  Zach

  I’ve been trying not to stare at her ever since I walked in. Harper Anderson is my employee, after all. I can’t help it that there’s something about her that intrigues me. Maybe it’s the way she doesn’t seem to care who I am? Usually employees, especially women, are nervous and flustered when they see me. She’s all business, all the time. Nothing seems to phase her.

  I glance over at her as she talks to another woman beside the massive fake Christmas tree that dominates the room. She marched into my office six weeks ago and insisted on ordering that huge tree, standing in front of me with a graph she’d prepared that showed Christmas cheer increasing exponentially with every extra foot of tree that we ordered. Her face had been so serious, and she’d presented her carefully prepared graphs and figures as if it was the quarterly review.

  I had no choice, I had to say yes. Harper had me totally off-balance and I hadn’t even been able to laugh at the ridiculousness and thoroughness of her proposal. But as soon as I said yes I’d seen a twinkle in her eye and I knew there was something different about her. It’s not often that people surprise me like that.

  She’s good at what she does, and that’s what matters. It doesn’t matter that my cock starts to twitch whenever I think about her, or that I can’t seem to get her out of my head for days every time I visit the office.

  “… the Jackson file will be ready for your signature by Monday morning, and.. Zach? Are you listening?”

  I’m pulled from my thoughts and turn towards my Editor in Chief and best friend. I put a hand on his shoulder and look him in the eye.

  “Mitch. It’s the Christmas party. No more work talk.”

  “Alright, alright,” he says, throwing his hands up. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning towards the snack table.

  I nod as I glance at the full spread of food and drink on the table. Harper’s done a good job this year, once again. There’s every imaginable snack and appetiser and drink that anyone could ever want. The woman knows how to throw a party.

  Mitch starts walking towards the drinks. “You got any plans this weekend?”

  “I was thinking of checking out that new club downtown tomorrow night, you in? There’s a potential client there with a VIP booth.”

  Mitch grins. “VIP booth means girls girls girls. I’m in.”

  I nod. He’s right, there will be women. There always are, at these things. It’s part of the job, really. Our brand is what sells advertisements—luxury, excess, riches, women, everything that’s good in the world. Everything that’s good in my life. I see people my age settling down and having kids and all I can think is why?! Why would you want that? Why would you want to be tied to one person for the rest of your life?

  “What happened with that model you were seeing? I thought you’d be here with her,” Mitch asks as we get to the table. There are dozens of tiny wine glasses lined up in front of us.

  “Didn’t work out,” I reply. It never does. I never let it, women just want to use me for my money and status, so I use them right back.

  “Tomorrow is a new night,” Mitch says as he hands me a glass of wine.

  “Tonight is a new night,” I correct with a grin. He chuckles and nods before taking a sip. I drink with him but something is off. I don’t quite believe myself when I say these things tonight. Why would I care about models and actresses and all these beautiful women that only want me for what I can buy for them, or who I can introduce them to? Maybe the people settling down have found something I haven’t.

  Probably not. I grab a glass of wine off the table.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say to Mitch.

  “Merry Christmas, buddy. To every night being a new night, and every girl being a new girl!”

  I force a chuckle and touch my glass to his. I steal another glance over towards Harper. She’s laughing at something. I can see her cheeks flushing from over here. I can’t quite make out her freckles, but if I get a little bit closer I’m sure I could see them scattered over her cheeks and nose. She’s completely dwarfed standing next to that ridiculous tree. She’s wearing an atrocious red sweater with lights on it, pointing to the decorations with the woman next to her. I have no idea how, but somehow she makes it look sexy.

  She’s smiling at her friend and the two of them laugh about something. Her sweater is flashing and I almost let myself grin as I look at her. Just as Mitch and I start walking away from the drinks she turns her head and our eyes meet from across the room.

  It only lasts a second before she looks away but something stirs inside me. Those green eyes of hers are like beams of light that pierce right through me. I could see that twinkle in her eye from all the way over here and I can’t help but wonder what she’s laughing about.

  I need to get closer to her tonight, to have an actual conversation wit
h her. I’m not going to settle for the same business talk and cold mask that she puts on. I want to know the real Harper Anderson.

  3

  Harper

  He was looking right at me. My heart is practically jumping out of my chest.

  Get it together!

  I’ve only had half a glass of wine and I’m already dizzy from one look. Who cares how good looking he is?! He’s a player! And he’s my boss.

  I glance at Rosie and nod towards the lights. She grabs the strand of wire and we lift it away from the tree together. We move it up a fraction of an inch and then place it back down on the fake green branches. It looks exactly the same.

  “There,” I say with exaggerated satisfaction, dusting my hands off in front of me. Rosie laughs. I glance at her and grin before turning back to the tree. At least it got me away from Greg.

  “It looks perfect, Harps,” Rosie says. I can tell she means it.

  “It better look perfect, it’s costing old Mister Zachary Moneybags a small fortune,” I laugh. “I still can’t believe he approved the expense.”

  My eyes drift upwards and I notice that one of the bow-shaped ribbons is caught in a branch and twisted awkwardly. I reach up towards it, trying to wiggle it loose. It’s almost out of reach. I can just touch it with the tips of my fingers as I stand on the tip of my toes.

  I take a small step forward and try to reach the bow again. The soft velvet of the bow tickles my fingertips and I stretch my body a tiny bit more until I can grasp it between two fingers.

  “Come on,” I breathe, grabbing it and pulling it down to straighten it out. I have the bow in my fingers and pull gently, but something is wrong. It’s not budging as easily as I thought it would. I try yanking it a little bit harder to bring the bow out from the branches. I’m on the tips of my toes, taking a thousand tiny steps forward and back to keep my balance. I grab the bow once more between my fingers and pull just a tiny, tiny bit harder.

  The bow wrenches loose and I finally get a grip on it, and then everything happens at once. I try to fix the ribbon but something is wrong. I’m still on the tips of my toes and I feel like the ground is shifting under my feet and I can’t regain my balance. My feet shuffle forward and back again a million times. My stomach drops and time slows down.

  No, no, no, no, no!

  “Harper!” I hear Rosie’s voice as if it’s coming at me from underwater. I hear her scream as I feel myself falling backwards, still grabbing on to that pesky velvet ribbon between my fingers. My heart leaps into my throat as I feel the ground falling away from me, sending me flying backwards. I’m spinning, falling through the air in slow motion. Finally I let go of that stupid bow and my arms fly up towards my head to protect my fall.

  I hit the ground with a thud and the air gets knocked out of my lungs. My eyes are closed and the pain of the landing jolts through my body.

  I land a second before the tree does. Before I know what’s happening, there’s a deafening series of smashes and crunches and shattering of ornaments all around me as the plastic branches collapse on top of me. All sixteen feet of the massive, expensive, unnecessary Christmas tree that I insisted on ordering falls down on top of me with an earth-shattering crash.

  It takes a second for me to realise what’s happened. Miraculously I haven’t been impaled, but all I can see are green branches and shattered ornaments all around me. I’m pinned under the tree. I can’t move. When the ringing in my ears quiets down I hear shouting and screaming from my coworkers and I close my eyes, sighing deeply.

  Oh. My. God.

  The reality of what’s just happened slowly dawns on me as I lay there, trapped by my own decorations. There’s a plastic pine branch rubbing against my cheek and a hard ornament digging into my leg. I try to move my leg but all I can do is wiggle my foot back and forth. I’m well and truly stuck. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath.

  I’ve just tipped over the sixteen-foot tree on top of myself at the annual Christmas party, in front of every single employee and all my bosses. In front of him—in front of Zach freaking Lockwood! The embarrassment is almost too much to bear. I lay my head down on the hard floor and close my eyes, trying to ignore the thumping of my heart and the burning in my cheeks.

  Rosie’s voice calls out. “Harper! Are you okay?!” She sounds panicked. I try to answer but nothing comes out, so I clear my throat and try again.

  “Yep, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.

  I’m fine. I’m great, even. Fantastic. Never better.

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