Tempted By Her Rescuer: Brotherhood Protectors World

by Christine Glover

  Tempted by Her Rescuer

  Brotherhood Protectors World

  Christine Glover

  Contents

  Brotherhood Protectors

  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

  Epilogue

  Also by Christine

  About Christine

  Acknowledgments

  Brotherhood Protectors

  About Elle James

  Copyright © 2020, Christine Glover

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2020 Twisted Page Press, LLC ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Brotherhood Protectors

  Original Series by Elle James

  Brotherhood Protectors Series

  Montana SEAL (#1)

  Bride Protector SEAL (#2)

  Montana D-Force (#3)

  Cowboy D-Force (#4)

  Montana Ranger (#5)

  Montana Dog Soldier (#6)

  Montana SEAL Daddy (#7)

  Montana Ranger’s Wedding Vow (#8)

  Montana SEAL Undercover Daddy (#9)

  Cape Cod SEAL Rescue (#10)

  Montana SEAL Friendly Fire (#11)

  Montana SEAL’s Mail-Order Bride (#12)

  SEAL Justice (#13)

  Ranger Creed (#14)

  Delta Force Rescue (#15)

  Montana Rescue (Sleeper SEAL)

  Hot SEAL Salty Dog (SEALs in Paradise)

  Hot SEAL Hawaiian Nights (SEALs in Paradise)

  Hot SEAL Bachelor Party (SEALs in Paradise)

  To all the people who dream big and reach for the stars!

  Chapter 1

  Reagan Harlow thought Virginia winters were cold but when she stepped out of her rental SUV in Eagle Point Ranch’s parking lot at noon, the blast of frigid air went straight through her coat and literally froze her to the bone. “Remind me again,” she said to her assistant who joined her. “Whose idea was it to do a holiday cooking show in Montana?” She hugged herself to preserve whatever heat remained in her body.

  “You,” he replied.

  “Right.” She’d agreed to do the show after her producer set up the premise. How could she say no when landing this coveted At Home Network’s gig after winning a grueling competition only a year ago? “Cooking Thyme’s reunion with the runner-up at this ranch is supposed to bring homespun holiday cheer to the viewers.”

  Much to her over-protective brother’s chagrin. He’d always looked out for her, stopping bullies and later, grilling potential boyfriends. But ever since her husband had died, he’d hovered over her worse than a helicopter parent.

  “A lot of our viewers thought you and Owen were an item off screen.”

  “The guy’s smart, charming and irresistible to legions of women, but he’s a bit too old for me.”

  “He’s only forty-five.”

  “Like I said, I prefer men closer to my age and I haven’t even hit thirty yet.” Sure, Owen had intrigued her with his ready wit and boundless energy. His creativity in the kitchen had wowed her too. “But it’ll be good to see him again. He taught me a lot during the competition.” His family’s five-star restaurant in New York City had garnered celebrity guests with his innovative, signature dishes.

  “Yeah. For a while there, we thought the viewers would vote for him to win,” Eric said as they made their way up the stairs. “But you won them over with your genuine, down home attitude.”

  “I’d like to think my cooking had something to do with it too,” she said wryly.

  “Your recipes were easier to incorporate into everyday life. And they were delicious.”

  Her cell phone buzzed in her purse. She withdrew it and read the screen. Mentally, she rolled her eyes and sent her brother’s call into voicemail. No way would she give him another chance to talk her out of doing the live show.

  “Ugh,” she said, jamming her iPhone back inside the crossbody bag. “I swear he’s worse than my parents.”

  Eric held open one of the ranch resort’s knotty pine doors. “He’s just trying to make sure you’re safe.”

  She swept past the wreath hanging from a bright Christmas tartan ribbon. “Colton doesn’t even live in the United States,” she said as she strolled inside. Not since he’d taken an assignment overseas in Italy. Not that she begrudged him the new life he’d carved out for himself with his wife. “And I’m a grown ass woman who doesn’t need him mother-henning me.”

  Everyone deserved happiness. But she’d be damned if she let her big brother meddling mess with her goals and ambitions. She’d already lost the life she wanted with her high school sweetheart. Now, still alone after her husband’s sudden death before she even turned twenty-five, she refused to shortchange herself.

  “He knows I want the show to renew for another two years,” she said. “Agreeing to this segment should seal the deal.” The network exposure would bring more people to her restaurant back in Virginia, net her the money she wanted to expand her business and increase employment in Magnolia Falls. Plus, she had a plan to market her super-secret recipes for her specialty line of marinade sauces.

  Expansion costs would be astronomical. But at twenty-nine and counting, she wanted to capitalize on this opportunity.

  “I can’t even imagine you acting remotely like a diva.” Eric shook his head, the silver and black knitted cap he’d chosen to cover his bald head glittering in the ranch’s lights. “You’re no-nonsense, but generous to a fault.”

  Besides she’d been shrouded in the memory of her loss for over four years. She’d love Scott with all her heart, but when she’d married him right out of culinary school, she’d parked her dreams to create another one with him.

  Slowly, she’d reclaimed bits and pieces of herself after the horrific crash that had stolen more than him from her. She pressed her palm against her belly and willed an old ache to subside before she made her way to the front desk.

  Focus on today and the future. There’s nothing to gain from missing something you’ll never have now. “Speaking of no-nonsense, I’d like to check out the kitchen facilities after we check-in.” She glanced around the expansive lobby, taking in the snowcapped mountains through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Eagle Point Ranch is definitely decked out for the season.” Logs crackled and sparked in a gargantuan fireplace festooned with garland and holiday decor, a cheerful display of reds, silvers, golds and greenery.

  “Yeah, perfect for the shows we’re filming here,” Eric said.

  “I wish we were taping them. These live shows are giving me mental hives.” She suppressed an inner shudder. “I’m nervous about royally screwing up.”

/>   “You’ll cover up any slips with your trademark sense of humor.”

  Her ability to laugh at her own mistakes had gotten her through the worst of the competition’s moments. “Thanks,” she said. “You going to track down our director while I tour the kitchen?”

  “Angela’s probably on the slopes since we don’t start filming until Monday.”

  “And I have two glorious days to relax and enjoy a well-deserved break.” Maybe she’d even hit the mountains too—the bunny beginner trails because she’d never tried to ski before.

  Besides the instructors might be cute and, after putting her flirting skills on the back burner of her life, she was determined to reclaim that side of herself before she hit the big 3-0. Not that she wanted love and marriage again. But her female parts had been on a super long sabbatical and she missed being with someone, the thrill and the connection.

  “I’ll check us in, get our keycards. Go ahead and park here,” she said to Eric, pointing to one of the groupings of chairs circling a rustic, low coffee table.

  “I’ll try to track down Bill while I wait,” he said, sitting and unzipping his parka.

  “Sounds good.”

  She swiveled around and instantly bumped into something hard and immoveable, and being the first kind of klutz, she slipped.

  Powerful arms wrapped around her, steadying her before she hit the floor. “Sorry about that,” a man’s husky voice drawled as he released her from his strong, powerful grip. “Should have been watching where I was going. You okay?”

  The scent of leather and man mingled with the wood smoke, and a ridiculous number of tingles traveled through her the second she found her footing and locked eyes with his. But then, it’d been a long time since she’d been held by a man, let alone one with Female Pheromone Magnet stamped on his handsome features.

  She struggled to untangle her tongue and speak coherently while he gave her a crooked smile that only made him more appealing. He seemed to dwarf her with his broad shoulders and height, which, given her curvy, tallish figure, didn’t happen often. She’d never win any awards for being petite or super skinny.

  “I’m fine,” Reagan said when her vocal cords finally cooperated with her muddled brainwaves.

  He tipped his hand to his Stetson and those whiskey colored eyes of his glinted with a hint of amusement. “So, no permanent damage.”

  She smiled. Other than her long-neglected hormones zooming along her nerves, making her jittery as a mouse staring down a cat. A very hungry one.. But man, did she ever wish he’d take a bite of her. Grab a hold of yourself. Men like this tall, ridiculously gorgeous guy, didn’t typically gravitate to women with her dress size.

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  “Great. How about I make up for being such an oaf and buy you a drink later tonight as a way of apologizing?”

  Brent Lancaster gave his new assignment another once over, waiting for her to stop twisting the wedding bands on her ring finger and answer his question. Normally, he’d never hit on a married woman, but he knew Reagan Harlow had been widowed years ago.

  Damn shame.

  Then, according to her brother, this hot number had focused on her career, stayed off the market for any and every possibility of hooking up permanently or short term again. Another damn shame. She had the lushest body he’d seen in a long time with curves begging for a man’s caress.

  But that wasn’t why he’d asked her out. Or deliberately run into her just now. “Don’t tell me you’re already spoken for,” he said, glancing down at her now wringing hands.

  “I, uh, no,” she stammered, turning the glittering diamond ring inward. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Just haven’t…” her voice trailed off and she glanced down, then back up again. “I’m free, but.”

  “I’m Brent. Brent Lancaster.” He introduced himself, cutting her off. “And you’re?”

  “Reagan Harlow,” she said, taking the hand he offered and shaking it quickly.

  “So how about it, Reagan?” he asked. “You going to give a guy a break and say yes? I may look tough, but I’ve got a fragile ego.”

  She laughed. The rich tone washed over him, warmed him in places he rarely examined since he’d left the Marines to join Covert Rescuers’ Undercover Shield. “Well?” he asked.

  “I’d hate to trample your feelings.”

  “So it’s a date?”

  “I, well. Yes. But I don’t want to ditch my assistant.” She looked at the man sitting in one of the chairs near them. “You have plans for tonight, Eric?”

  The tall, slim man perked up and scooted to the edge of his seat. “Movies, totally chilling out in my room,” he said. “Saving my strength for a day on the slopes tomorrow. Plus, I want to be on top of everything before we start filming the show on Monday.”

  “Show?” Brent asked though he already knew her reason for being at the luxury ranch. “Are you an actress?”

  “No. Not even close,” she said with sparkling eyes, light dancing in the blue irises. “I host Cooking Thyme for the At Home Network. Speaking of that, I do have to check in and tour the kitchen, get a feel for the space.”

  He’d love to get a feel of her. But that wasn’t on the agenda for this trip. His orders from the commander at CRUSH’s headquarters in California hadn’t included making the moves on Reagan. Just establish a rapport, safeguard her during the next two weeks without tipping her off, then return to San Francisco to begin his next covert mission.

  Still, he’d been hired by her brother, not Reagan. And somehow that blurred the lines for him in ways he’d never expected to examine.

  “Sure thing.” He withdrew his cell phone. “Give me your number and I’ll text you. That way we can find each other later.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She rattled off her number, he followed up, then said, “I’m glad I bumped into you. Going to make my vacation a lot more fun.”

  She flushed a pretty shade of pink, accentuating those amazing blue eyes, reminding him of the lake he swam in every summer while is father was stationed in Montana. “Ah, I. Okay then,” she said. “Yes. Fun. Fun is good.”

  “Better check in, get your room sorted,” he said. “Then we’ll hook up. Say around six?”

  “Six works.”

  “Excellent.” He tucked his cell phone back in his pocket. “I’ll reserve a table.” Brent touched the Stetson’s brim and tilted his head, then sauntered to the concierge’s counter to make good on his promise.

  And to keep a surreptitious watch on his voluptuous, sexy assignment.

  She crossed the floor to the front desk, her fitted winter coat cinched in at the waist just above her lush, swaying ass which were her jeans molded to perfection. A zing of awareness charged through him, hit hard below his belt buckle. Hell. He grabbed a plastic cup from the table next to the concierge, filled it with the frou-frou citrus infused water from a hydration station and drank the entire glass.

  The lemony-orange liquid cooled his throat, but his cock remained at granite levels. Damn. Guarding Reagan Harlow wouldn’t be the cushy job he’d agreed to take on. He’d accepted the mission, figuring he’d have a mini vacation of sorts while helping out a guy who only wanted to protect his sister.

  Sure, he’d known she was pretty in that all-American girl-next-door way when he’d studied her pictures, but he hadn’t been prepared for the sensual wallop her body delivered. Spending time with her wouldn’t be difficult. Keeping his paws off? Another problem altogether.

  He diverted his instant attraction, focused his energy on reserving the table for two with his platinum credit card. One issued by his agency for off-the-grid missions.

  Brent doubted Colton Sutler would be okay with his current state of arousal, but he’d control the urge to take this date to the next level. God knew, he could relate to the man’s concern. He’d run interference on occasion with his own sisters, both of them now settled down with their own kids to raise, careers to pursue.

  After slipping hi
s wallet back into his leather jacket’s inner pocket, Brent skimmed the concealed holster to remind himself to stand down. But man, he didn’t want to stand down at all. Again, the devil on his shoulder nudged him to ignore his internal hallway sex monitor.

  Reagan and her assistant parted company. Eric making his way to the hallway leading to the block of rooms in the main ranch while she’d been given a luxury cabin conveniently located next to his. By design. But she’d never know the truth.

  Two weeks from now he’d be out of here and Reagan’s show would resume filming in Magnolia Falls, Virginia where the people at the primary headquarters for his agency had complete control over keeping her safe.

  She made her way to the lobby doors and exited, then he slowly moved in the same direction, noting nothing out of the ordinary per his expectations. But before he stepped outside, he heard her scream.

  Chapter 2

  Adrenaline pumped through his veins, making his fingertips tingle as he rushed through the doors. “Reagan.” Brent raced to where she lay sprawled in a snowbank next to her SUV, dropped beside her. “Are you okay?” He cruised his large hands over her body, checking for injuries.

  “Yes. I’m fine,” she said, struggling to stand. “Only my pride’s bruised.”

  He helped her up. “What happened?” His heart rate slowed to a normal beat.

  “I slipped on a patch of ice.” She pointed to the offending strip of frozen water. “Which is so weird. Because I didn’t see it before I checked in.”

  Neither did he, but he didn’t voice his thoughts. “The hazards of winter,” he said easily before kneeling back down to examine area and scraping a bit of ice to sniff it. The sweet, sugary scent eased his concern. “Spilled soda from what I can tell. With these subzero temps, wouldn’t take long to freeze over.”