My Donut Princess: The Navy SEAL Series, Novella
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My Donut Princess
The Navy SEAL Series, Novella
Odette Stone
My Donut Princess, The Navy SEAL Series, Novella
Copyright © 2018 by Odette Stone
www.odettestone.com
ISBN: 978-0-9950200-3-0
First edition, July 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
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To Sonia, since we were kids, you’ve always been my number one fan. Encouraging me, believing in me and keeping my head above water when I was going under. You’re one of the best writers I’ve ever met. And you’re one of the brightest lights in my life. Love you.
Prologue
Aaron Walker
Naval Base, Virginia, USA
I stood in my locker cage on the base, already packed, but reluctant to leave. Actually, I dreaded it. I had recently returned from my latest deployment, and now I faced a two-month leave. Usually, I spent this time working on my boat or surfing. However, during this break, I had something entirely different planned. Something I dreaded.
This is only for six weeks.
“Yo, Aaron, guys are already halfway into the sauce,” a familiar voice spoke from behind me. “You joining us?”
I turned to face my leader, Jackson. “No man, I can’t.”
A question crossed his face, but he remained silent.
“Heading to New York,” I picked up my bag. “Tonight.”
His eye narrowed. “Okay.”
Jackson was good that way. He never asked. Ever.
Still, I felt compelled to explain. “You know my buddy, Clark?”
“The operator that went private?”
“He has a temporary job for me. Six weeks as a bodyguard,” I avoided his gaze. “You know, really boring shit. But the pay is amazing.”
He shrugged. “You can do whatever you want on your downtime.”
I let out a heavy gust of air. “Feels kind of beneath me.”
He laughed. “Depends on how good the pay is.”
The promised paycheck almost tempted me to move into the private security sector. Almost but not quite.
“It’ll pay off my boat, put it that way.”
He gave a low whistle. “Then what the hell are you doing here? Go get it.”
Irrational yes, but his approval made me feel slightly better about the coming weeks.
Seriously, how bad could it be?
* * *
“Aaron, nice to see you, buddy.” Clark shook my hand. Luxury leather couches and expensive looking art decorated his swank office.
I resisted tugging at the collar of my dress shirt. I hated wearing a suit.
“Hell of a view you have.” I nodded at the floor to ceiling windows that showcased a picturesque view of the Hudson River.
“Nothing but the best for our clients,” he grinned. “Have a seat.”
I sat, feeling like a monkey dressed up in a suit.
Clark leaned back in his chair. “So, thanks for filling in for us. We’re super short-handed, and this client is critical to us.”
I nodded.
He shuffled some papers around. “What do you know about Payne Donuts?”
“They taste good?”
“Payne Donuts is a global chain of donuts shops with sales around the world, predominantly in the US. They gross a revenue of nearly 800 million annually.”
I gave a low whistle.
“It’s a family run chain, currently headed by a Rikhard Payne. His only heir is what the media refers to as the ‘donut princess.’”
A sick feeling started to spread through my gut. “Okay.”
“Her name is Femi Payne.”
Clark paused, a little bit too long for my comfort. “We’ve guarded Femi before. I’m not going to lie to you. She’s a bit of handful.”
“How much of a handful?”
He avoided my gaze. “She’s 25 years old, beautiful, spoiled and beyond demanding. Three of my men have threatened to quit if they’re posted with her again.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“To put it plainly, she’s a brat, and Rikhard thinks his only daughter can do no wrong.”
“What exactly am I guarding her against?”
“She’s the sole heiress to a fortune and the family has already had three kidnapping attempts in the last decade.”
I rubbed my temple wishing I was on the deck of my boat. “I don’t think this is my scene.”
“Four weeks tops, and I’ll double your pay.”
I remained silent.
“Give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work, I’ll understand.”
“What exactly are my duties?”
“You follow her around while she lives her life and you don’t let her out of your sight.” He shrugged. “Femi does typical socialite stuff. Your job is to remain in the background and make sure she doesn’t get kidnapped. That’s it.”
That didn’t sound too bad.
“That’s it?”
“Your hours are 10 AM to 10 PM. If she stays out later than that, we pay you double time for your efforts. When she goes to bed, you’re off duty. She has a night guard that sits by the door of her hotel room. You’ll be booked in the same hotel as her, and your daily per diem could feed a family of four for a week.”
In four short weeks, I could pay off my boat. I’d be an idiot not to take him up on this offer. Still, something inside of me resisted. My gut rarely failed me, and right now every internal alarm screamed.
“What kinds of antics did she pull that made the other guys want to quit?” I stalled.
He pressed his lips together. “I want you to come and work for me when you’re finished eating dust as a SEAL, so I’m giving you full disclosure.”
“That’s fair.”
He let out a slow breath. “Femi hates being guarded. Her favorite pastime is to try and outrun her guards. She’s managed to sneak away no less than three times.”
“Why would she do that?” I asked, baffled. “Doesn’t she know we’re protecting her?”
“She do
esn’t give a shit, and she thinks she’s invincible. Her second favorite past time is to torture my men. She locked one in a bathroom and then took off. She’s a master at manipulating, and she does little stunts that drive my men crazy. She made one of my guys remove all the buttons off a dress and resew different buttons on. She had another one polish all of her shoes. All 43 pairs.”
I frowned. “Am I her nursemaid or her security detail?”
“Your only job is to protect her from outside threats. So don’t let her con you into doing any stupid shit. You’re not required to carry her purse or act on her demands. Simply ensure her safety.”
“I can manage that.”
He handed me an envelope. “Here is your key to your hotel room, your per diem, a copy of your contract and a cellphone. Call me anytime. Night or day. Everyone’s phone numbers have been preloaded into your cell.”
We shook hands. “Thanks, Clark.”
He gave me a grim smile. “Good luck.”
I was a trained SEAL. We didn’t rely on luck. We relied on our honed skills. Four weeks. I lasted four months in Syria. I could easily survive four weeks with one socialite. Right?
Chapter 1
Femi Payne
New York City, USA
I was bored out of my mind. When had life gotten so mundane? The only reason why I had come to New York, was because my closest friend in London, Jessica, had left on a cruise with her boyfriend and I felt lonely. My parents owned family homes in Scotland, Mumbai, London, and Boston, but I felt the most at home in New York City.
Jessica felt confident that her boyfriend was going to propose to her. Which meant yet another one of my friends would get married, and we all knew that once someone was married, they shifted out of the ‘single fun group,’ and into the ‘adult boring group’ that only did adult couple things together. My friends were dropping like flies, and soon I would be the only single person left in the single fun group.
Not so fun.
I sighed as I studied the opulence of my hotel room. This hotel, this very suite, felt more like home than any of our family homes. So why did I feel so damn lonely?
Perhaps it had been a mistake to come to New York. Mom had offered for me to join her in Paris for some fall shopping, but even that bored me. I had more clothes than I could possibly wear. My father showed his love by making a lot of money, and my mom and I accepted his love and returned it by dutifully spending it.
Maybe I needed to get another boyfriend. To date, I had only had one real boyfriend, and that relationship lasted a mere six months. Garret had been handsome and charming, but he annoyed me by agreeing with everything I said. I wasn’t sure he had the capacity to form his own opinion.
Garret had served one important purpose. I gave him my virginity, which frankly, had been a relief to get out of the way. I didn’t understand why everyone made such a big deal about sex. My experience with Garett had been nice, but it didn’t warrant the obsession of the general population.
Personally, my favorite times with Garret had been when we snuggled up on the couch and watched old Tom Hanks movies while eating popcorn and drinking beer. Those times had been the one reason I considered hanging onto Garret, but in the end, when he had pushed to get engaged, I knew that I needed to throw him back into the sea. You can’t base a marriage on how compatible you are with your Netflix choices, can you? Although Jessica said that people have gotten married for worse reasons.
I didn’t believe in the great big love story that everyone else did. Love was just a Hallmark emotion that everyone bought into. I wanted someone that I could actually get along with. Someone that didn’t bore me. If that guy existed (and I doubted he did) I’d make him marry me.
* * *
A knock sounded on the door. I lazily pushed myself off the settee and checked my appearance in the mirror. My waist-length, thick black hair hung in artful waves down my back. My flawless make-up highlighted my dark, wide eyes. My lipstick made my lips look pouty and pink. I smoothed my pink Chanel dress that came down to mid-thigh.
Taking my time, I made my way to the door.
“Who is it?” I called, knowing full-well who stood on the other side. My new bodyguard worked his first shift today, and Clark had already read me the riot act about not scaring this one away.
“Aaron. Your new security detail.”
I swung open the door and barely covered my gasp. The 6’4” man that filled the doorway looked less like a bodyguard and more like an assassin. Cool blue eyes, cut cheekbones and wide lips that were currently pressed together in annoyance gave him a fierce appearance.
His eyes traveled over me for a fraction of a second and then, without an ounce of appreciation, flicked to over my head. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” his indifference needled my skin, like tiny little pinpricks.
I played dumb. “Where’s Don?”
“No clue who that is.”
I tugged on my bottom lip with my teeth. “Maybe his name is Dave.”
“Still no clue.”
“Doug’s been my guard detail in the US for the last six months. Strawberry blond hair and brown eyes?”
Eyes narrowed. “You worked with the same guy for six months, and you don’t know his name?”
I hated how he turned this around and made me look like the stupid one. “What’s your name?”
“Already told you.”
This guy had a lot of nerve. “I don’t like you.”
“I need you to let me check out your suite.”
“You can wait outside.”
“That’s fine, but first I need to check out your suite.”
I planted my hand on my small hip. “No one bosses me around.”
He put his hand on the door, and pushed it wide open, forcing me to step back.
“Excuse me!” I sputtered, watching as he strolled into the suite like he owned it. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He ignored me as he opened closets and bathroom doors, in a thorough check of the place. He moved with efficiency and precision. I despised him.
I slammed the door shut and followed him. “You can’t barge in here and make yourself at home.”
He returned to face me, his expression dead. “Trust me, sweetheart, this isn’t home.”
Anger rushed through my veins. No one talked to me like this. No one. My rib cage rose and fell with emotion.
“Get out,” I yanked the door back open. “Now.”
A cool smile played on his lips, but without saying a word, he stepped out into the hallway.
With satisfaction, I slammed the door as hard as I could.
Chapter 2
Femi
Two hours later, after an angry call with Clark, I resigned myself to the fact that for the next four weeks, Aaron was here to stay. Apparently, Derek needed a vacation. I rolled my eyes.
I tiptoed to the suite doors and peered through the peephole. Aaron leaned against the hallway wall while he scrolled through his phone. His lips tugged into a smile, which changed his entire face, making him far too good-looking than he deserved to be.
I wanted to punish him by making him stand outside in the hallway, but instead, I was the prisoner, and he seemed to be enjoying himself a bit too much.
I yanked the door open. “Call my driver. We’re leaving.”
He didn’t give me the courtesy of looking up from his phone. “Call him yourself.”
I stood there momentarily shocked into silence. Who did this guy think he was? “You’re my bodyguard!”
He lifted his icy gaze to my face, his expression completely indifferent. “Exactly. I’m here to keep you safe. Not to do your bidding.”
I slammed the door shut. Breathing hard, I paced around the room. How dare he talk to me like that.
In frustration, I called my driver. I yanked open the door again. Without sparing him a glance, I strode past him in my four-inch Louboutin heels. I punched the elevator door button, sensing that he stood behind me.
<
br /> “Please don’t stand so close.” Haughty disdain laced my tone.
Downstairs, the driver rushed to open my car door. Aaron opened the opposite door and sat down beside me.
“My security detail sits in the front,” I lied.
He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, but he didn’t respond.
We rolled up to Nolita, where I typically liked to browse the curb-to-curb boutiques. Without speaking to either my driver or Aaron, I stepped out of the car and marched up to the nearest store.
Aaron caught up to me, grabbed the door above my head and held it open for me. I didn’t even want to shop, but here I was, and now I would do some loving damage to my credit cards.
Aaron followed too close behind me.
I paused and glared at him over my shoulder. “Can you give me some space, please?”
He shrugged and moved to the front counter. Three female store clerks fawned over him. Why did I care? Gritting my teeth, I turned on my heel and strode out of the store.
Why was I letting this Neanderthal get under my skin? The pattern repeated itself three times in three more stores. I shopped while clerks flirted with him when they should have been helping me. Being the bigger person, I chose to ignore him and took my frustrations out on my credit cards.
Weighed down with bags full of clothes I didn’t even want, I stopped on the sidewalk and turned to him.