Sharon Hartley - Accidental Bodyguard

She can’t make the same mistake again

Claudia Goodwin loved and trusted once. Now she’s running from the man she thought would never hurt her. Hiding in the breathtaking beauty of a private Florida island until she can testify against her ex-husband, a ruthless terrorist, she has to stay focused on survival.

Sexy security expert Jackson Richards is the perfect man to have on her side, but trusting anyone—even him—isn’t an option. The one thing she can’t keep hidden is the crackling attraction between them. And desire for the man keeping her safe might not be enough to protect her heart...or her life.

“Are your fingers numb?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t feel them.”

He laughed, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek. “Let’s sit down.”

He led her to the sofa, where they sat with the blanket tented around their shoulders. He gently chafed her frozen hands between his large warm ones.

As his body heat seeped into hers, Claudia became aware of the man next to her, of his planes and edges, muscles and bones. She knew better than to trust this man, a stranger really, but she relaxed. Because of the cold, she’d been holding herself stiff for hours. No, for days. She’d been constantly on guard since the night she’d fled her apartment, and the tension had exhausted her. Right now it felt good to just let go, to dissolve into a puddle of warmth.

She’d worry about the danger again when her body temperature returned to normal.

Dear Reader,

I loved writing Accidental Bodyguard! The heroine, Claudia Romero (nee Goodwin), was a minor character in The South Beach Search, a 2014 Superromance, and her backstory always tugged at me. She’s a courageous woman willing to testify against her murdering ex-husband even though she’s been warned to keep her mouth shut. Her ex bribed someone in the US attorney’s office, so she doesn’t trust the federal government to protect her and refuses to go into a safe house. She doesn’t dare involve her family or risk endangering them. Claudia is on her own, on the run and struggling to stay alive.

I had to know what happened to her. How did she avoid being killed by the terrorists that want to keep her quiet? She needed help, so Jackson Richards, sexy ex-cop and security expert extraordinaire, stepped up as her bodyguard.

Claudia doesn’t trust anyone. Not herself and certainly not a man who turns her on every time she looks at him. Since Claudia lied her way onto the ritzy island where Jack works as security director, he’s convinced she’s a con artist stringing along a wealthy sugar daddy.

I hope you enjoy watching the sparks fly when these two strong-willed people fall in love.

Namaste,

Sharon

Accidental Bodyguard

Sharon Hartley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SHARON HARTLEY recently survived (barely) a move from Miami to St. Petersburg, Florida. She still doesn’t know where most of her clothes are, but hopes they’ll turn up soon. Her orchids survived the trip, and, fortunately, so did her computer, where she can be found every morning creating stories where people make mistakes, endure perilous journeys, learn about life and always find a happy ending. She misses her friends in South Florida, but the birding is fabulous on Tampa Bay and she can practice yoga anywhere. Sharon loves to hear from her readers. Please visit her website at sharonshartley.com.

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For my sister, Sandy Clark. I miss you every day.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CLAUDIA GOODWIN DROVE into her assigned parking space at Brasilia Apartments, turned off her demon car and held her breath. This time the engine kept chugging for only about five seconds before it finally hiccupped to a stop. With a weary sigh, she pulled herself out of the old clunker and into the cool late-January evening.

Thank the nursing gods she was off tomorrow and could sleep late. Although first she had to check on Maude Spalding.

Claudia entered the pleasantly lit courtyard of the small complex and reminded herself she loved her job at West Miami Children’s Hospital. She’d chosen the option of working three days straight and then four off. One of those seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time deals. Funny how lots of things seem like a good idea at first and later prove, hey, not so much.

Pushing away useless regret, she took a deep breath and inhaled the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine. She closed her eyes to savor the scent and relaxed her shoulders. The courtyard was filled with tropical foliage—towering palms, hibiscus, terrestrial orchids and bromeliads. Even a live oak or two. Meant to remind visitors of a mini rainforest, this garden-like refuge was why she’d moved in.

And she’d move again as soon as the trial was over. A niggle of worry about her testimony crept into her thoughts, but Claudia shrugged it away, rapping on her downstairs neighbor’s door.

Though it was after midnight, Maude would be up. The feisty eighty-six-year-old seldom slept. She’d lived by herself in the Brasilia for over thirty years and refused to go into assisted living.

“Maude?” Claudia called softly.

“Come on in,” Maude answered in her breathy voice.

Claudia entered and, as always, felt like she’d been transported into an over-the-top holiday extravaganza. Every available surface contained some red-and-green or gold ornament. There were Santas, Mrs. Santas, snowmen, elves, wreaths, twinkling lights and hundreds of Christmas trees, big and small. Glitter everywhere.

Claudia called Maude Our Lady of Perpetual Christmas.

December 25th was long gone, but Maude kept Christmas year-round, never putting away any of her knickknacks. They reminded her of happier times, of her family, now all dead.

Claudia approached her tiny, gray-headed neighbor in the large recliner where she spent most of her time watching television, noting she was using her oxygen.

“You been upstairs yet?” Maude demanded, with an odd, excited expression. Her eyes appeared huge behind her thick glasses.

“No,” Claudia answered, feeling for her neighbor’s pulse. “Any palpitations tonight?”

“Was some kind of ruckus in your unit,” Maude blurted.

Claudia dropped Maude’s wrist. “Ruckus?”

Maude nodded. “Sounded like furniture being moved, dishes being thrown every whichaway. I almost called the police, but I didn’t want to get you in no trouble.”