Restrained Under His Duty

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Restrained Under His Duty Page 1

by Stacey Kennedy




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

  A Loveswept Ebook Original

  Copyright © 2017 by Stacey Kennedy

  Excerpt from Cuffed by His Charm by Stacey Kennedy copyright © 2017 by Stacey Kennedy

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Loveswept is a registered trademark and the Loveswept colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Cuffed by His Charm by Stacey Kennedy. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  Ebook ISBN 9781101885659

  Cover design: Okay Creations

  Cover photograph: glebTV/Shutterstock

  randomhousebooks.com

  v4.1

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  By Stacey Kennedy

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Cuffed by His Charm

  Chapter 1

  Ryder

  Sexy. As. Hell. Trouble.

  I’m rooted to the shiny marble floor watching Hadley Winters pour herself a glass of wine in the chef’s kitchen of the historic Queen Anne mansion belonging to her father. Her back’s to me, teasing me with how her heart-shaped ass perfectly fills out her blue jeans. Her body with its perfect curves tempts me. Her long legs were made to be around my waist. But the way she teases me is my punishment for a crime I never committed.

  What I feel for Hadley is worse than hunger. It’s worse than thirst. It’s even worse than pain. She’s my forbidden fruit that I crave to taste, and yet my duty as chief of security to her father, Senator Gary Winters, makes her inconsumable.

  Over her shoulder, the trees of Lafayette Park wave in the wind outside the window. San Francisco is sunny and bright this afternoon, but my mood is anything but chipper. I try to avoid Hadley at all costs.

  Today I can’t.

  I clear my throat, garnering her attention, and as she turns, her mesmerizing light green eyes catch mine and widen. Warmth and emotion cross her face that’s not unknown to me. The attraction is shared between us, and we both know that. She becomes all I see, as a soft flush creeps over her freckled cheeks and her perfectly sculpted lips curve slightly.

  “Blackwood,” she finally addresses me, tucking her pale blond, shoulder-length hair behind her ear.

  “Ms. Winters.” I mirror her formal address, fighting against the heat rising in my groin. Totally aware of her now, I step farther into the kitchen and toss the magazine I’m holding onto the counter in front of her. “We need to talk about this.”

  She sips her red wine, taking a good look at the cover of the tabloid magazine Gotcha! Silently, she flips a couple pages and begins to read the article: Is Senator Winters’s daughter, Hadley, becoming a handful for head security detail and multimillionaire Ryder Blackwood? Our sources say yes! And they also tell us that the kick-ass bodyguard is madly in love with her. She smirks when she finally lifts her twinkling eyes to mine. “Unless you’re ready to admit that there’s some truth behind this story, then there’s nothing to talk about.”

  I ignore where she’s trying to direct the conversation. Something I’ve become an expert at doing.

  To keep the conversation on point, I, wishing this wasn’t the case, tell her, “The tabloids have taken a sudden interest in my life. Sadly, that means both you and your father are likely to come up on the radar because I work for the senator.”

  Hadley laughs softly and leans against the countertop behind her. “Really, Blackwood, let’s be honest here. You don’t exactly work for my father. You’re loyal to him. There’s a huge difference there.”

  Two things come to mind. First, she’s not wrong—the senator stopped paying me for my intel and protection a long time ago. After my service with the Army Rangers, her father had hired me as his chief of security due to his close relationship with my dad, and he gave me the money to get my security company up and running. Now Blackwood Security is one of the top private security detail companies in North America. I have operatives working all over the world for top government officials, diplomats, and celebrities. While I have paid back the loan financially, the personal debt for where he’d gotten me in my career so quickly has yet to be repaid.

  Second, she’s trying to downplay my importance to him to knock down the first boundary between us. “Listen, there are things I know about you,” I explain gently, staring into her pretty eyes that hold the power to bring me to my knees if I let them. “Things that, because of the tabloids’ sudden focus on me, could be a problem for you.”

  Her brows slowly begin to furrow. “What things?”

  I snatch the eight-by-ten photograph I’d placed in the back of the magazine earlier and offer it to her. “This, for one.”

  She visibly gulps at the photograph of herself, bound, gagged, and getting fucked in Afterglow, a local sex club. “This happened months ago. How did you…” It’s blatantly clear that she’s never seen the picture before now, and I admit that I’m a bit surprised when her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. “To be perfectly honest, Blackwood, this is none of your business.”

  “Believe me, I’m well aware.” Not willing to argue that point with her, I take the photograph from her and return it to the back of the magazine. “But let’s discuss this, shall we? If this picture found its way to me, how long do you think it would take the tabloids to get ahold of it? Your father doesn’t need a scandal like this.”

  “I’m well aware,” she cleverly throws my own words back at me.

  I fight my grin. I’ve seen middle-aged men cower in my presence. This twenty-five-year-old woman stands before me as an equal, and I fucking enjoy it.

  “But I’m also very careful,” she adds, taking another look at the cover of the magazine before glancing my way again. “The security where that photo was taken is extremely tight and cellphones and cameras are forbidden, so please explain to me how you got this picture?”

  “That, I’m afraid, is not for me to share.” Because I’m as loyal to my sources as I am to her father. While I believe that she took great precautions to ensure her sexual rendezvous didn’t become the next big story, I add, “Regardless that you’ve been careful, we need to be more careful now.”

  “Clearly.” Her top teeth begin to worry her lip while she hesitates. It guts me that I needed to show her this photo in the first place, but I keep the thought to myself, as she reconciles whatever’s on her mind and quickly continues. “Do you know if this is the only picture out there or if there are more?”

  I see her mind working behind those intelligent eyes and lean my shoulder against the doorframe
. “It’s the only one.” Her expression tightens, and I answer her question. “You don’t need to worry about this photograph getting out. The reason I have it is to protect you, not hurt you.”

  “Good,” she says in obvious relief, as if that’s the end of the conversation.

  I snort. We’re not even close to being done. “It would be in your best interest to stay away from any clubs or any people affiliated with these clubs until some of the heat on me dies down.” I pause, letting her process what I said, frustrated that I can’t get a read on her. Christ, I wish I could, because the mystery of the woman before me is one of the reasons she’s so damn tempting.

  She’s got secrets I desperately want to know.

  I note the lines of frustration between her brows, and I hate putting her in this position. She’s young, free, and still finding herself. Determined to right this wrong, I offer, “I can arrange for you to meet with a vetted Dominant in the privacy of a well-secured location to correct this position I’ve put you in.”

  Just that easily, her brows rise and she smiles. “Is that so? Now do tell me, Blackwood: How could you possibly arrange that?”

  She wants inside my head. But she’s not going to get those answers. Not today. Not ever. “I have connections to help you here, Hadley. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  Something changes in her expression; it goes soft and curious, as if she’s breaking my shields apart. The air crackles with heat and desire when she leaves her place at the counter and moves closer, her spicy scent spiraling around me. “What if I said I didn’t want another man?” she asks, voice raspy. “What if I said I wanted you?”

  I part my lips and then shut them. This woman blows my mind. Her confidence astounds me. She may be a good foot shorter and nearly half my size, but her heart and her bravery shine through. It’s sexy and beautiful in one big sweep, and it makes me fucking crazy.

  “Hadley,” I say sternly, reminding her that this is a bad idea.

  “Ryder,” she whispers back, begging me to change my mind.

  I’m fighting to keep my feet firmly on the ground. This is a game we play, she and I.

  I set the limits.

  She pushes against them.

  But the game needs to stop. This little firecracker, who’s beyond her years, is going to make me do the one thing I never do: break my oath to my duty.

  Just as she gets this close, I lift a brow. “Do you want my help or not?”

  She blinks and steps back, putting distance between us. Disappointment darkens her eyes. “Thanks and all, but I think I can find a man myself.” Her voice is devoid of emotion. The moment we had now gone completely.

  She thinks it doesn’t affect me, but it does. I’m ripped apart, cold in ways I’ve never been cold before. I stay on the spot, curling my toes in my boots, afraid if I move I’ll do something I shouldn’t. Like grab her and ravenously kiss away that disappointment, replacing all the coldness with wicked heat.

  Obviously annoyed with me and done with the conversation, she goes to walk by me. Without considering the consequences, I reach out and grasp her bare arm. Her soft gasp is a jolt straight to my cock.

  “Whatever you do, do not trust anyone right now,” I tell her.

  She pauses, eyes searching mine. “Why do you look so worried, Blackwood? The tabloids have you running scared?”

  Her concern touches a place in my chest I won’t allow her to go. “It’s trouble that I can handle.” The warmth of her flesh heats my palm, all too inviting. Fighting against myself, I slowly release her arm. “But the situation with the tabloids is a concern, especially considering whatever reason they’ve brought you into this alongside me.” Truly that concerns me most of all. We never had a relationship besides my working for her father. My instincts are screaming at me that there’s meaning behind that, and I need to—and will—dig deeper on this. “Please be careful.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Blackwood,” she says gently, and her nostrils flare, as if she’s consumed by the overwhelming need to draw in my scent as much as I am hers. “I’ll be safe. Promise.”

  The last thing I see is her smile before she vanishes through the doorway. The sassiness in that smile tests my resolve to remain professional. I flex my fingers, feeling my skin tingle, fighting against the desire to bring her back into my arms so I can finally curb my hunger for her.

  Frustrated and enduring a raging hard-on, I open the magazine again and examine the photograph of her. She’s a beauty in bondage, and I ache to see her up close and personal this way. But I’m crippled all the same, unable to stop staring at the way the man’s hands are holding her arms tight.

  She’s not yours to claim echoes through me.

  That’s when I realize I might have a greater danger than the tabloids.

  Her.

  Chapter 2

  Ryder

  Later that Thursday night, the sense of entitlement is practically wafting off the partygoers as I make my way down the hallway of the senator’s mansion. Hours have passed since I saw Hadley, but I can’t get her off my mind. That smile. Those eyes. She’s haunting me, and my aching cock is paying the hefty price.

  I adjust the wired security earpiece in my ear, as Lee, a Blackwood executive protection (EP) specialist, says over the transmission, “Hawk is leaving the garden and en route to his office.”

  “Hawk,” the code name for the senator, puts me immediately on alert, as he hadn’t notified me or another EP about wanting to leave his party. While I trust the security system I’ve designed for the senator at his home, I’m also on duty, and I can’t ignore he’s on the move.

  I shove all thoughts of Hadley from my mind and swiftly pass through the kitchen, bustling with his staff, who are cleaning up after the senator’s private dinner party. The loud voices from the east garden draw me forward until I reach Lee, standing just outside the door.

  “Hawk’s location?” I ask.

  “He’s gone with the governor. I believe to the study.” Lee’s black T-shirt with BLACKWOOD written across the front and his black cargo pants look recently pressed. One of the many reasons Lee’s an asset to Blackwood Security. He works hard and his outstanding ethics make me look good. But his lean frame is deceiving. As a black belt in East Asian martial arts, this guy can kill you before you blink an eye.

  “Anything here to update?” I ask.

  “Unless you count the drunk congressman who left with his wife, then no.” Lee grins.

  I smile in return. “If a drunk fool is all we’ve got, then it’s a good night. Stay alert.”

  Lee nods then immediately glances out at the garden, focused and ready.

  Throughout the years, there have only been a handful of times we’ve ever had a problem at one of the senator’s parties, but you never want to risk having a possible situation. I imagine the worst for the senator so that he doesn’t have to.

  I move through the grounds of the tailored gardens, the spatter of stars painting a perfect picture above me. I’m aware of the watchful eyes on me as I stride purposefully along the stone pathway, following the ever louder piano music.

  Once I reach the fountain, I find more of the senator’s dinner guests enjoying the evening. Some people are dancing to the music, others are sitting at the tables drinking their beverages. I take the right bend in the path, and soon find Shawna, the newest EP specialist, who’s got a killer right hook and a sharp marksman’s eye.

  When I reach her, I ask, “Any updates?”

  “Negative,” she says. “It’s just singing crickets here.”

  “Enjoy them.” I point over my shoulder toward the fence behind me. “The last party the senator had, a drugged naked fool jumped over that fence and it took three of us to take him down.”

  Shawna grins. “I look forward to that moment, sir.”

  “You might just regret those words, Shawna.” I smile back before leaving her at her post. That night had been the hottest of the summer, and no one at the time was particularly thrille
d to be pinning the idiot down for twenty minutes until the EMS arrived to administer midazolam to calm him down enough to strap him to the gurney.

  Amused at the memory, I enter the west wing’s door to the mansion, immediately struck by the senator’s low and gravelly voice.

  “You know I’m with you.”

  I stop a little in front of the doorway, allowing the senator to see my left side and know I’m there if he needs me.

  That’s when I hear Tobias Harrington, the governor, say, “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

  Even if I’m staring at the wainscoting across from me, I don’t have to see the senator to know he’s stressed. I hear the strain in his voice when he says, “Of course. I understand what you’re going through, Tobias. I’m feeling the pressure as well.” A pause. Then, “Blackwood, is that you?”

  I enter the room, met with a thick cloud of cigar smoke laced with the particularly potent arrogance that fills a room when two powerful politicians are in one space. The second I catch Senator Winters’s eyes, I see the exhaustion in their brown depths. The senator is only in his sixties, but he looks much older and incredibly tired. He’s had enough politics tonight. “Sir, I apologize for the interruption, but you have an important phone call.”

  From his leather wingback chair, the senator glances at the governor. “Tobias, would you mind?”

  “Of course not.” The governor rises and turns to face me.

  I’ve never been quite sure what to make of Tobias Harrington. He’s a tall, brooding man, far younger than the senator. In fact, we’re the same age, thirty-five. When he was elected to his first term he was only thirty-one, and at that time, he became the youngest American governor since Clinton. And I have yet to decide if his confidence is warranted or if he’s just another asshole in a suit.

 

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