Guarding Jenna: Brotherhood Protectors World

by Holt, Desiree

  “What?”

  “He has no idea yet.”

  She sighed again. “Grey, I’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, you will,” he agreed, “because I’m getting you protection.”

  “What?” She shook her head. “No, you are not sending someone with me.”

  “That’s right, I’m not. But I called Hank Patterson in Eagle Rock. He heads the Brotherhood Protectors. I told him what you needed, and he’s assigning one of his best to you. A former SEAL named Scot Nolan. He’ll be waiting when you get to your cabin.”

  “Grey, this man I’m trying to find, whoever he is, has no idea I’m hunting him. That I’m digging into these cases. And I’ll fly well under the radar. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “If he’s as powerful as you think, your radar won’t do you any good. And this man’s a hell of a lot more than a babysitter.”

  “Then maybe I can smoke the asshole out.”

  “Not your smartest idea,” Grey objected. “But if that happens, you’ll definitely need protection. I take care of my friends, Jenna. Deal with it.”

  Jenna gritted her teeth. “If I’m walking around with a guy who might as well have a sign on him that says bodyguard, how far do you think I’ll get?”

  “A lot further than if you’re dead. Anyway, Hank Patterson and I got it all figured out. Nolan’s going to be your boyfriend.”

  “My—” She’d stared at him. “Oh, great. I barely hook up with anyone I know, never mind a complete stranger. No. Just no.”

  “Too bad. We’ve got it all worked out. Hank’s already made the assignment, and Scot Nolan has your file so he can know as much about you as anyone else does.”

  “This sucks, Grey.”

  “Not as much as being raped again or dead,” he pointed out. “Anyway, you have nothing to worry about him crossing the line. Scot’s a loner. Hank says he wishes the guy would find a nice woman and settle down but, he seems to be fine by himself.”

  “Good, because I am, too.”

  So here she was, about to face her demons.

  I can do this. I can definitely do this. No, I have to do this or I’ll never have any peace.

  She murmured the words over and over to herself as she steered her rental SUV down the highway from Bozeman to the cabin she’d rented at the foothills of the Crazy Mountains. She hadn’t wanted to come back here, but if she was going to see this thing through to the end, finally, she had to do it. But she wasn’t staying anywhere near Helena, that was for damn sure. Nor had she bothered to let her stepfather—a man she’d hated from the day she met him—know she’d be here. That would be defeating the purpose.

  Then the emails showed up, and everything came rushing back like a tidal wave, engulfing her. Thinking about it now sent memories skittering through her brain, along with the words of her therapist.

  Rape is the most demeaning kind of attack. It robs the victim of…

  Out of nowhere, the feel of hard masculine hands covering her eyes and mouth popped into her brain, choking her. The scent of alcohol so strong. Someone dragging her into a room, throwing her on the bed—

  Choking, she swerved to the shoulder and stopped the car, slamming her hand against the steering wheel

  No, no, no. I will not think of it.

  Deep breaths. That’s what her psychologist always told her. Take long deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. That’s what she’d been doing for the past ten years, ever since she’d decided dealing with the aftermath by herself wasn’t working.

  Inhale. Exhale.

  Damn. She’d thought she had the recurring images and sensations under control. She rolled down her window and drew in a deep breath of the fresh Crazy Mountains air, spiced with the essence of white birch and lodgepole pines.

  Inhale. Exhale.

  She felt all her inner muscles relax, the tension easing as it usually did, her breathing evening out. She closed her eyes and counted to fifty, as her therapist had told her to do, and called up pleasant images—the sun setting over the water, A child on a playground, a dog chasing a stick on the beach. After a few moments she felt calm enough to continue. She was almost there. Almost in a safe place.

  And hungry. She’d either been on a plane or driving most of the day. Digging in the console, she found the last of a package of snack crackers and chowed them down. Calmer now, she put the car in Drive and pulled out onto the roadway again. It pissed her off that even after all these years, any little tiny piece of memory could still set off a panic attack. With effort she focused on the highway and the magnificent scenery on either side. The beauty of the Crazy Mountains and Yellowstone National Park should be enough to soothe anyone, right?

  Then she remembered Grey’s insistence on the bodyguard. Even now, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream or be grateful. She was more than grateful for Grey’s friendship. He had been her rock so many times when she’d been on the edge of a meltdown. But, except for him, she had enough trouble dealing with men as it was. How would she be able to handle having one around twenty-four seven?

  She was still talking to herself when she rounded a curve in the road and found herself in the little enclave of log cabins. Twenty of them. That’s what the rental agent had told her, but each one far enough from the others to ensure privacy. Every porch had a number on it so she cruised slowly down the road, checking each one.

  Then she realized she didn’t need any number at all. A big pickup truck was parked in front of cabin fourteen, and a tall, lean man who looked as if he ate nails for breakfast stood on the porch. He was well over six feet, his dark-brown hair slightly shaggy, framing a face defined by high cheekbones and a beard that shielded his jaw.

  Warrior. That was her first thought.

  Her second was, He doesn’t look very friendly. She could almost see the wall around him.

  And third? Here stood the first man to ever kindle a tiny flame of desire and penetrate the ice that enclosed her body. A need that made her nipples harden and an unfamiliar throbbing set up in the heart of her sex. Oh my god! How did this happen right now, of all times, after years of failure and closing herself off? She wasn’t sure she’d even know how to act. Life was playing an unfair trick on her.

  Exactly how was she supposed to do this now?

  Bodyguard, she reminded herself. That’s what he was and all he was going to be. But she trembled nevertheless at the sudden assault of unfamiliar feelings.

  Stop it! Now!

  She had to keep telling herself she’d be a big disappointment to him.

  She parked next to him and climbed out of the SUV, stretching a little because, between the plane and the rental vehicle, she’d been sitting a lot today.

  “Hello.” She managed a smile for him. Be friendly, she told herself. You’ll be sharing a cabin—actually everything every day—for the duration of this trip.

  But she guessed smiles were not in his repertoire because he just nodded, his face a stone mask. Then he walked down the two steps to the little parking area and held out his hand.

  “Scot Nolan.”

  Oh, well. At least he was courteous.

  “Jenna Donovan.”

  “I know.” He shook her hand once then dropped it.

  Inexplicably, her hand tingled from the contact and heat shot up her arm. What the hell?

  He shifted his stance, moving his head slowly from left to right.

  Jenna looked around, her forehead creased in a frown. She didn’t see anyone near them. A little way down the road, she saw a couple with two kids climbing into a van, but they didn’t seem very dangerous.

  “You think someone is watching us? I’m not sure anyone even knows I’m here yet.”

  “Did you call the sheriff before you flew out here?”

  “I did, but I didn’t exactly get a warm reception.”

  Scot lifted one eyebrow. “What did he say?”

  She nodded. “I told him I had read about the murders and wanted to get some details from him. He told me he couldn�
��t release information in an ongoing investigation. He also wanted to know what possible interest I could have in a case way out here in the boonies.”

  “I’m sure you know that’s pretty much standard in situations like this.”

  She sighed. “Yes, but I was kind of hoping I could talk him into at least sharing some information with me. He sounded more irritated than anything. Still, he did agree, grudgingly, to meet with me, after I told him I’d camp out in his lobby until he did.”

  “Do you want me to call Hank and see if he can put some pressure on him?”

  Jenna shook her head. “No, thanks. That would only piss him off more. I’ll see what he has to say to me in person. “

  “He could be under a lot of pressure from a number of different factions,” Scot pointed out. “Nobody outside of his office has made the connection between the rapes and the killings because no one knows about the rapes. Right? If this guy is as powerful as you think, and he’s really from around here, it’s possible he’s got a line into the sheriff’s office to bury this.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Bury nine rapes? Nine murders?”

  Scot shrugged. “It’s not unheard of. And if that’s true, he probably already knows you’re chasing this.”

  Her stomach muscles clenched. She’d thought about that but hoped she could do it under the radar. Stupid of her.

  “You’re right.” Of course he was.

  “Let’s get your stuff inside.”

  Scot headed for her SUV. When he moved, his untucked shirt shifted, and she saw a gun tucked into the small of his back. She’d seen enough artillery doing her stories to recognize it as a Glock 19. Well! At least he had good firepower.

  “I can get my stuff,” she protested, pressing the fob to unlock the hatch.

  “No problem. I’ve got it. Then we’ll go over the ground rules.”

  Ground rules? Was she being protected or kept a prisoner.? Thanks, Grey.

  But she could hear his voice in her head.

  “Better pissed off than dead.”

  Chapter 2

  Well, this is going to be fun.

  When Hank Patterson had told him his next assignment was to be as some woman’s boyfriend slash bodyguard, he’d wanted to tell him no thanks. He did the hard jobs, the top level security, even the undercover assignments. But Hank explained in a quiet voice he was doing this for a very good friend of his, the woman was putting herself in a dangerous position, and he’d have a better chance of protecting her as her lover.

  “We are the Brotherhood Protectors,” Hank reminded him.

  “As long as she understands it’s only for show,” he’d specified

  Hank snorted a laugh. “Believe me, she’s not any happier with the playacting than you are.”

  Not that he didn’t want a woman in his life. He did. Loneliness ate at him sometimes, but he couldn’t seem to connect with the right woman. He didn’t know if it was him or them. Sometimes he wondered if he’d just forgotten how to have a relationship. He’d deliberately blocked himself from anything like that so he could fully dedicate himself to the SEALs. He was one of those people who gave everything to one thing at a time. Now he wanted that one thing to be a woman, but it sure as hell couldn’t be a client.

  Damn!

  Scot hauled the woman’s gear into the cabin, despite her irritating insistence she could do it herself. Slanting a look of annoyance at him, she grabbed the messenger bag that he assumed held, among other things, her laptop, and marched into the cabin ahead of him. That gave him a good chance to get a good look at her rear.

  He didn’t know what he expected, but this wasn’t it. Oh, sure, Hank had given him a folder with her picture and the basic facts about her and the situation, but seeing her in person was different. Maybe he’d expected a tall, boldly aggressive female who looked ready to go ten rounds with him.

  Never trust your imagination.

  Jenna Donovan was barely more than five feet, her jeans and sweater setting off a compact but curvy body. Dark hair fell in a mass of curls around a face whose most outstanding quality was huge hazel eyes.

  At first glance, he thought, feisty, edgy and a problem. His second impression was a lot more complicated. I wonder what she looks like without her clothes on.

  Holy fucking shit!

  He was shocked that he’d had any reaction to her at all, never mind one that involved her being naked. In the two years since he’d been out of the SEALs, he hadn’t met a woman who appealed to him as anything but a brief fling. When he became a SEAL sniper, he’d made a conscious decision to shut out any emotional relationships. Being a sniper meant compressing emotions while doing the job. A lot of guys were able to do both, but apparently he wasn’t wired that way. For twelve years he had lived with casual hookups, not needing anything more.

  But now he’d come to realize he wanted a life, like most of the men at Brotherhood Protectors. Like Hank had found with his Sophie. But, somehow, it hadn’t worked out. He began to wonder if he had a disconnect where relationships were concerned. Had he shut himself off for so long he’d lost the ability?

  He rarely talked about it except to Hank, who understood his situation and told him not to give up. The right woman would walk into his life when he was least expecting her. Just like Sophie had for him. In two years, however, no woman had appealed to him for anything more than temporary.

  Sometimes he wondered if there was something missing in his genetic makeup. His father had left when he was ten. Both of his brothers had joined the military as soon as they could and were still on active duty. And neither of them was in a sustained relationship. So yeah, maybe genetics. Then why did he have this continuous feeling that there was a big hole in his life?

  Until today.

  Until Jenna Donovan.

  Right person, wrong time.

  Damn!

  She was a client. His protectee. Despite the fact that other members of the agency had connected that way, it violated his own personal code of conduct.

  But damn! At first contact there was something about Jenna Donovan that flipped a switch that had been in the Off position for a very long time. As he took in the nicely rounded ass, the compact body, and the determined set of her shoulders, he told himself he was just assessing her to see how fast she could move in an emergency.

  Yeah. Right. Bullshit.

  But he wasn’t going there. He had a job to do here, and he had to treat it just like a sniper assignment. No distractions. Use that famous personal discipline.

  Uh huh.

  Tell that to the sudden invisible connection that popped up. And worse, to unexpectedly swollen cock and aching balls.

  Swallowing a sigh, he hefted her two pieces of luggage. “There are two setups for sleeping. A full bedroom downstairs and a loft upstairs. I’m putting your stuff upstairs. I’ll be using the bedroom downstairs.”

  He waited for the argument that she wanted the downstairs bedroom. Of course.

  “Wait. What?” She glared at him, hands on hips, irritation lining every inch of her body.

  Yeah, there it was. And damn again. Instead of annoying him, all he could think of was how cute she looked when she was aggravated.

  Of all the fucking luck. The woman he’d been waiting for walks into his life and she might as well have a big Hands Off sign plastered across her chest.

  A body I don’t need to think of except as an object to be protected. Object. Protect. Right. Still getting that bodyguard thing fixed in my mind.

  He just looked back at her and forced what Hank Patterson called his iron wall stare.

  “I won’t be much protection if someone breaks in and they can get to you before I even get downstairs. You could be dead by the time I reach you.”

  Her skin turned pale as she absorbed his words.

  “You think whoever this is would do that? I haven’t even started digging into anything here yet. How would he even know?”

  “I always prepare for trouble,” he told her. “Hope
for the best, expect the worst.” He paused. “If it’s a problem for you to sleep up there, then go ahead and take the bedroom down here.” He waved a hand at the two leather couches facing a rock fireplace. “I’ll bunk out on one of those.”

  He watched the play of emotions across her face as she struggled with her options. She glanced up the open stairway, and he knew she was bothered by the openness of the sleeping setup there. He wanted to tell her she could prance around naked and it wouldn’t bother him. He’d lost any interest in sex except with his hand ever since—

  Quit thinking about it.

  He waited for her to say something, but she just stood there, studying him as if he were an unwanted guest. Well, Hank did say someone else had made the arrangements for her. A boyfriend? A significant other? Great. Just fucking great.

  “I’m concerned with your safety,” he pointed out. “Just let me know what works for you.”

  The sigh said it all.

  “Fine. I’ll sleep in the loft.” Her mouth curved in a tiny grin. “But no peeking.”

  “Trust me,” he snorted. “That’s at the bottom of my list. I’ll get your stuff upstairs. Then we need to go over your schedule and some ground rules.”

  “Ground rules?”

  “Yeah. There’s one of those single-serving coffee makers on the counter. Go ahead and fix yourself a cup if you want.”

  “There are pods here?” Had the landlord provided them or Scot? Somehow she couldn’t see him ambling trough a minimart laying in supplies.

  “Hank’s wife shopped for supplies so you wouldn’t have to worry about it. If she got anything wrong, or there’s something we don’t have that you want, I’ll be happy to take you to get it.

  “Groceries?” She sounded like a parrot. His boss’s wife had grocery shopped for her?

  “Yeah. She figured after the long trip you might not be in the mood. Like I said, we can always get anything that’s not here. So go ahead and get your coffee while I take care of your luggage.

  He plunked her suitcases next to the bed, along with her messenger bag then took the stairway down two steps at a time. He saw that she’d taken him up on his suggestion and fixed a mug of coffee for herself. She stood by the big window looking out into the woods, sipping from the mug and staring out at the wilderness.