His to Protect: A Second Chance Billionaire & Virgin Romance

by Vivien Vale

  Not Adelaide, though.

  That’s probably the main reason I’ve always been drawn to her.

  Even now, years later, she’s using her education and skills for the better good.

  To help people in a job that’s demanding, rather than taking the glamorous route.

  And honestly, this village is anything but glamorous.

  The huts are rundown, the terrain’s dangerous, and it’s plain to see that there are threats all around, animalistic and otherwise.

  The trek takes a few hours because I’m being absolutely thorough, scanning for potential issues and jotting down notes as I go.

  Every now and then, a curious villager approaches me, albeit with caution.

  I can see their eyes questioning me, and I do my best to make sure they know I’m not a threat.

  My hulking frame’s enough to put them on guard, but I smile and wave, taking special care not to scare the kids.

  I make my way back to the hospital hut, where Adelaide is busy helping a young mother with her child.

  The sight makes me stop in my tracks.

  The look on her face is gentle and soft as she tends to the little boy who can’t be more than three.

  It’s nothing like the scowls she’s been throwing my way since I told her I was here to watch over her.

  She smiles at the duo before sending them on their way, and my heart thumps against my ribcage.

  I’ve always loved her smile. It’s genuine—dazzling, even.

  Our eyes connect, and the smile abruptly disappears from her face.

  “It’s you.” She stands up, scowl firmly back in place.

  I grunt.

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  I shrug.

  Now I’m just pushing her buttons, and I know it.

  “Honestly, Ford…” She starts walking away, and I follow behind her. “Are you just going to follow me everywhere I go?”

  She reels around, placing her hands on her hips.

  It takes everything in me not to burst out laughing, because it’s just so fucking adorable.

  “That’s kind of what security entails.” My voice is nonchalant.

  “The village is perfectly fine. You don’t have to be on my rear end with every step I take.”

  “Fine? Hardly. So much can go wrong here, you know.”

  “And I’ve been fine without you.”

  Lucky, I think.

  I mean, it’s sure to be only a matter of time, but I don’t say that to her.

  “Well, here’s the deal, sunshine. In order to keep you safe, I’m gonna have to stay close. You’re gonna have to get used to it.”

  “How close?”

  “We’ll be sharing that hut. That close.”

  “Like hell we will, Ford! I’m not welcoming you and all your…” She gestures to my gear. “There’s simply no room.”

  “I’ll make room.”

  “Ford!” her loud yell draws the attention of nearby villagers, who all turn to see what the commotion’s about.

  A scarlet hue blooms on her cheeks, and I can’t help but chuckle.

  “It’s not funny,” she whispers—though it’s more like a yelling whisper, to be honest.

  “It is funny. The irony here is, you’re hell-bent on not creating a fuss, but in doing so, you’re creating it instead of preventing it.”

  I’m amused by the whole situation, which is only pissing her off more.

  Her clear blue eyes are murky, simmering with quiet rage. I figure I’d better lay off.

  “Anyway, we’ll share your—”

  “No, absolutely not,” she cuts me off.

  “If it’s a question of the gear, I can—”

  “It’s a question of you and an invasion of my privacy.”

  She’s not backing down.

  Yep, same ol’ Adelaide. Stubborn to a fault.

  “Listen, I really don’t need you here. I’m fine, so you can just gather your stuff up and go back home.”

  “That’s not happening.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m firing you.”

  “That’s cute and all, but you didn’t hire me. So you can’t fire me.”

  She huffs.

  “Look, if it’s really a problem…” I start.

  “It is!”

  “Will you listen to me, dammit?” Now she’s starting to get the best of me. No way I’m letting her see that, though. “How about this—I’ll set up a tent outside your hut and put my gear in there. I’ll sleep in your hut, on a separate cot close to the door.”

  “No.”

  “Stop being stubborn, Adelaide. This is the best we can do.”

  “No. The best thing you can do is go home.”

  “That’s not happening.”

  I’m starting to sound like a broken fucking record.

  This conversation’s going on a short fucking trip to Nowheresville, so I just walk away.

  She can fight me on this all later, but I’m going to do what I came here to do.

  I walk the short distance to her hut and find an empty plot of space to set up my tent.

  It’s hardy enough to withstand the environment and large enough for me to sleep in, if it absolutely comes down to that.

  But it won’t.

  The only way I can keep her safe is to be the barrier between the door and her, and the only way to do that is to sleep next to her.

  I set up my gear in the tent and head back to the hut to secure it as best as I can.

  The outside’s a disaster waiting to happen, but it isn’t all that bad inside.

  Adelaide’s belongings are neatly set up, her clothes on one side and equipment on the other.

  Her cot’s neatly made, and for one brief second, I wonder what it would be like to share the cot with her.

  To have her in my arms, to feel her soft body next to mine.

  With a shake of my head, I quickly dispel those thoughts.

  It will never happen.

  I’m not good enough for her. I wasn’t all those years ago, and I’m not now.

  Nothing’s changed.

  Except now, she’s even more beautiful than she was then.

  Sleeping in close quarters probably isn’t my brightest idea, after all.

  7

  Adelaide

  I hate the satellite phone.

  Not because I don’t know how to use it, but the line’s always full of static, and there are echoes and delays.

  Moments of awkward silence are followed by moments of talking over each other. It’s a highly inefficient way of communication, and therefore most annoying.

  What annoys me even more today is that I forgot to charge the battery. I have to ask Ford to hook up my phone to his solar power bank in his equipment tent.

  I hate to depend on that mountain of a man, but it’s important to call right away and sort out this mess sooner than later so things can go back to normal around here.

  Ford’s back is turned to me, and his huge shape moves like a rhino in front of me.

  In his khaki vest and shorts, he even resembles the color of a white rhinoceros. His biceps bulge as he connects a couple of cables, then stands up.

  “There. Voltage’s good.”

  “Thanks,” I say curtly, eager to get on with my call.

  I squat on the ground outside to open the satellite dish. I turn the phone on, and we both watch as the dish whirs and turns, getting a satellite connection.

  Because the phone works best under the sky, I have to make the call right here, outside his tent, tethered to the power source.

  “Would you mind giving me some privacy?” I say, swatting my hand.

  I wanted to shoo him away, but made a mistake in waving my hand. Instead, it accidentally connects to his chest.

  Oh my, what rock-hard pectorals!

  Embarrassed, I feel myself blushing while I quickly pretend to swat a fly. He looks down at the ground, shuffling his boots.

  He quickly ducks inside the tent and is back in
a second, dangling a beat-up khaki hat in his hand.

  He thrusts it in my direction.

  “Hot out here,” he mumbles, gesturing to my full blonde hair with his chin while his steely blue eyes are trained on the horizon.

  I swear, half his words get tangled in that thick beard.

  I take the hat without a word and wait for him to scoot away.

  As I bring up the hat, I catch a whiff of its smell.

  Good God, how many years of brow sweat has this thing soaked up?

  It’s musky, sweet, and sour at the same time.

  Somewhat rank, yet underneath, somewhat…stimulating.

  A minuscule tremor passes through my insides, and my knees feel slightly weak.

  I quickly distract myself by punching an all-too-familiar number I loathe to call into the phone.

  The receiver gives off a sequence of bleeps and static-like clicks, then a faint ringing comes on.

  Standing directly under the sun, I notice it’s quite hot already, although it’s still early in the day. Ford actually hasn’t wandered off far, but has parked himself outside my hut in the half shade.

  Who does he think he is, my bodyguard?

  He’s glancing around with tiny movements of his head, but I’m sure he’s watching me under his mirrored Oakley shades.

  At a distance, it gives him the appearance of a man-fly: a bristly monster with bulging, faceted eyes. A nuisance buzzing around me I need to get rid of.

  There’s a click on the line.

  “Hello?”

  “Sten! I don’t have much time. But listen, just what the hell do you think you’re doing, sending me a security guy? I don’t need a babysitter!”

  “Adelaide?” Sten’s voice comes over the ether, all groggy and confused.

  “Of course, it’s me, brother. And just so we’re clear, you can’t talk your way out of this one! I demand you call off your grunt straightaway. How dare you interfere from afar with my work here? You have no idea of the conditions here!”

  “Do you know what time it is? It’s the middle of the night, li’l sis!”

  I’m so enraged by Ford’s presence and Sten’s meddling that I forgot about the time difference.

  So, I woke up him up.

  Good. It’s payback for acting without consulting me first.

  “Well, this can’t wait. I can’t work like this, so would you please resolve the situation this instant? This guy’s not taking any orders from me! Call him back!”

  Sten clears his throat, and I can hear him sit up in bed with an echo of ruffled blankets.

  “Aide,” he says, knowing full well how much I hate it when he belittles me. “This is for your own good. For your protection.”

  “I don’t need protection!” I shout at him, and our voices clash in the delay.

  I glare at Ford, who acts as if he hasn’t overheard anything.

  Is he seriously cleaning his nails with a bush knife?

  “Aide...”

  “Sten!”

  Again, we talk over each other, and I exhale through my nostrils in frustration and exasperation.

  This is taking far too long already.

  I need to put my foot down, and then I need to be with my patients.

  “Look.” Sten’s voice comes on soft again. “You can argue all you want, but you are who you are. You probably get so caught up in your work that you forget what you look like—but you’re a beautiful, young, and attractive woman who simply stands out over there. And you’re the daughter of billionaires. I hate to say it, but rationally, it’s just a matter of time until someone attempts something. You’re like a moving target with ‘pick me’ written all over you,” he says, a tinge of worry in his voice.

  “Attempt something?” I ask.

  “Abduction,” he blurts out. “Or worse—rape, torture, demands of money…you know.”

  “Why Ford?” I cut him off again.

  “He’s the best man for the job. I know him and I trust him. And wouldn’t you rather have a friend protect you than a stranger?”

  “He’s not a friend, he’s...” I start, but I stop myself short.

  An animal, I wanted to say.

  Absentmindedly, I fan myself with his awful hat.

  The smell’s overpowering. It’s so bad, yet a bit enticing. It’s sending another tingling wave through my insides.

  I feel faintly…aroused and weak.

  I plant my feet firmly apart and actually plop the hat on my head. It’s shielding my eyes from the sun, and now I can get a better look at Ford.

  He’s eating—standing up, of course.

  How well do I know this man? High school was a long time ago, and it was only a fumbling tiny, brief attempt at something he clearly didn’t feel.

  Now he has the air of someone constantly on the job.

  He comes on like a cop, or detective. An agent.

  Yet his talk is all military lingo, terse and abbreviated.

  Oh six hundred hours…what normal creature talks like that?

  Right now, he’s chowing down on one of those ready-to-eat meals he’s brought with him by the truckload. MREs, as he call them.

  He’s digging in, shoveling bits into his mouth with the spoon attached to his pocket multi-tool, all the while keenly observing his surroundings.

  Somehow, my curiosity is piqued as I stand here, studying him.

  But I also feel like Jane Goodall, studying a primate.

  “Aide?” Sten’s voice finds my ear.

  “Yep.”

  My earlier anger has somewhat dissipated, and I just want to get off the line with my elder brother so I can get back to work.

  “Let me propose this,” Sten says in his deal-brokering tone. “Ford can take your mind off security. He’s good, and once he’s all set up, he’ll fade into the background. You’ll hardly know he’s there.”

  I’ll hardly notice him? That hulk of a man set up his cot in my hut!

  “It’ll allow you to fully concentrate on why you’re there—to help your patients. With Ford protecting you, you can dedicate yourself to their needs.”

  He has a point, as much as I hate to admit it.

  I can’t help but feel manipulated by the far-reaching arm of my family. But sometimes, it’s wise to cede a step.

  My patients are my priority.

  “One misstep…” I raise my voice over Ford slurping something out of a tinfoil envelope. “One misstep by Ford and you’ll call him back instantly. Promise?”

  Sten exhales with audible relief.

  “I promise, Aide. Take care, li’l sis.”

  “Don’t call me Aide, Sten.”

  And with that, I end the call and place the receiver back into the cradle. I bend down to pack up the satellite phone.

  As I get up and turn at the same time, I nearly bump into Ford behind me.

  “Jesus!” I’m startled. “Where did you come from? For someone your size, you move with surprising stealth!”'

  “Phone working fine?” he grunts.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I stare at my reflection in his shades and realize I’m still wearing his ridiculous hat. But he’s no better sight, with traces of pink milkshake foam and oatmeal in his beard.

  “You got a little something…from your MRE…” I say, pointing with my finger at his upper lip.

  He runs the back of his huge hand over his mouth.

  “Still there. Never mind, maybe you’ll get hungry later.”

  He wipes his beard with the bandana tied around his neck.

  Such class.

  “If you’re staying, you should get accustomed to the local food.”

  “I heard about a case of food poisoning,” he says.

  With a swiping motion, I finally take off the hat and glare at him.

  The silence between us is more awkward than talking on the satellite phone, but I can’t tear myself away and stand rooted to the spot.

  This man’s his own planet, and I have to break out of his gravi
tational pull.

  “Your battery is charging,” he grumbles. “But these old sealed lead acid ones take longer. Take this for now.”

  He hands me a shiny new battery.

  “Careful, it’s heavy. Lithium-ion. Better performance,” he says while I stare at it.

  “Well, thanks. You know, this is Africa? We make do here with what we got, even if it’s not mil-grade, as you’d probably call it.”

  He shifts position, and I watch in disbelief as the mountains of muscles rearrange themselves. He places his hands on his hip.

  “Anyway,” I say, “for the time being, you’re not fired.”

  I swear a brief grin peeks from behind his beard.

  I push his hat against his chest, and our hands briefly touch as he grabs it from me.

  His paws are surprisingly soft and tender, and oh so big.

  How would it feel to be touched by those hands? To be held by those arms?

  My gaze drifts to his biceps again, glistening with sweat in the sun.

  He notices my roving eyes and raises an eyebrow over his shades.

  My face is red hot as I snort and storm off, feeling his piercing eyes staring at my back.

  8

  Ford

  Fuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I stare at my tent—or more accurately, what’s left of it.

  It’s in a tattered mess, with one half collapsed.

  A giant tear has created a window where there wasn’t one before. Now, it’s effectively useless.

  Clothing and toiletries are spread at the front, a giant mess that creates its own walkway.

  “Fuck!” I say out loud this time.

  What could possibly be responsible for this disaster?

  As if in reaction, the tent bounces.

  What the…is there something in there?

  It moves again.

  And again.

  Then I see a flash of white peek out the door.

  The fucking thing grins at me before darting back inside.

  “Hey, you!”

  I move with all the stealth of a hippo, stomping toward the tent to salvage what I can.

  What happened to my fucking nimbleness and usual speed?

  I hear shrieking laughter behind me, and I know who it is without having to look.

  “I told you to lock your tent, Ford. But nooo, Mr. Tough and Mighty over here doesn’t listen.”