CHAPTER ONE

SAVANNAH

––––––––

I pluck a grape from one of the lavish platters and glance around the outdoor wedding reception for Josh and Cassy Hawke.

The place is stunning. There are thousands of white flowers and lanterns scattered around along with hundreds of guests. Many of them are celebrities and rock stars.

This is Los Angeles, after all.

Plus, Cassy's father is none other than Blaze Cartwright from the famous rock band, Sonic Rebel.

And the reason I'm standing here.

Everything I do these days is a big deal. That sounds so arrogant, but it's true. It's a side effect of becoming one of the most famous actresses in the world.

Today I'm dressed head-to-toe in dusky pink and black Dolce hence being Josh's groomsman today as he marries Cassy.

I joined a few years ago when I knew it was time to give up my military career. I can't tell you exactly what I did because technically my role never existed.

Nor does Delta Force.

Now that we have that out of the way, let's just say I've seen and done things that most men haven't. And there is a huge gap in my resume. So, when I sat in front of Josh during my interview, he frowned for a few minutes, then glanced up at me.

"You been lying on a beach in Hawaii for the past eight years?"

"Something like that." I shrugged.

"Delta?"

"Nope."

More staring.

"You start two weeks from Monday," Josh said, closing my resume and handing it back to me. "This is useless as shit."

He knew.

The thing is my earlier years as an Airborne Ranger in the US Army were enough to get me this job and Josh knew it. He doesn't need to know the rest.

In fact, as a former SEAL he knows enough.

Anyway, none of it happened.

Are we clear?

Good.

So, this fucking woman. I understand this is the job, but from the moment I heard Savannah Sinclair had been put on the Black Hawke books, I've been looking to hand over the job.

But we were recommended by Blake Cartwright, Josh's father-in-law, so he wants me to personally lead her security.

Aka be her bodyguard.

"I lead the damn division, Josh. I can't protect an A-list celebrity and run the department."

"Then Marshall can step in," he replied. "He did it while you were on vacation at Christmas."

"For seven fucking days."

"I do not want this woman dying on our watch. She's the hottest ticket in Hollywood—hell, the world—and my wife's father has recommended us. Happy wife, happy life," Josh said pointedly.

Couldn't he just go down on her instead?

Wasn't going to say that though. I value my balls right where they are. I might be former Delta, but very few people fuck with Josh Hawke.

Doesn't stop me trying from time to time, of course.

So what's my problem with Savannah Sinclair?

Nothing personal. I don't know her, and I don't watch her chick-flick movies.

I took on this BHS role understanding I'd be leading the division and occasionally doing some high-profile bodyguard work. Meaning the client was potentially a target. Think politician or high-value businessman like an oil tycoon traveling in the United States.

But I told Josh and Aidan I preferred not to protect women. They knew I had my reasons, and we left it at that.

An A-list actress with screaming fans and all the llama drama of Hollywood? No fucking thanks.

Then I read that she's a diva which, sure, is probably untrue, but there's a high possibility that it's not.

She's twenty-eight. Five foot six, long dark hair and big green eyes. And disgustingly beautiful.

I'll be fighting off men and screaming girls.

Yah.

Give me a terrorist cell in Iraq any day.

I don't mean that.

Probably.

So Savannah Sinclair is a guest and doesn't yet know who I am. I could tell by the way she watched me while she tongue-fucked that damn grape.

Christ, my cock shot up in my pants before I realized who she was, and it's not like three hundred people were staring at me as part of the wedding party or anything.

Is that the sort of shit she does regularly?

Am I going to have to deal with a seductress?

Great.

It looks like there's something going on with her co-star, too. He had his hands all over her. She was coughing for god's sakes. Not having a heart attack.

I tug down my white vest and head through the sea of people taking in the Black Hawke Security crew around the perimeter.

Marshall, a former Texan Green Beret, steps out of the tree line.

"You're not working, Ryder. Get lost," he says.

Smart ass.

"Just need a break." I slide my hands into the pockets of my pants and watch the last of the guests sit down at their tables.

There is a wall of trees—or rather trees in planter boxes—separating us, and I do just that. Draw in a deep breath.

"Can't believe some of the celebrities here today," Marshall says, gripping the sides of his black BHS vest and rocking on his heels. "Nick Marciano and Savannah fucking Sinclair. Damn, she's hot."

See.

This is the shit I'll have to deal with.

"Keep your dick in your pants." I roll my eyes and glance around. "And your eyes and ears open."

"Stop working and go have fun." He slaps me on the shoulder. "We've got this."

Of course he does.

He's a smug Green Beret. In fact, our whole team is top-notch former paramilitary operators.

He's also right. I need to get back in there. So I head back across the now empty clearing to join the wedding reception and focus on enjoying Josh and Cassy's special day.

I've already decided I'll only do this bodyguard gig for six weeks, then I'll convince Josh we need to put someone else on it.

I head down the side of the trees and am about to round the corner when I sense movement.

I freeze.

Then Savannah Sinclair plows into my chest.

"Oh fuck," she says, gripping my shirt and her damn green eyes lock with mine.

I don't dare lift my arms and touch her.

"Step back," I say roughly.

She frowns. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I wasn't going to attack you."

"What?"

Is she kidding me right now?

I almost laugh.

"You look like you can defend yourself," she says, patting my shirt and finally letting go to take a step back.

My reaction was automatic. You don't smash into a man with my background. Adjusting to normal life takes time after you've been in enemy territory, and I don't think I will ever be the way I was before I joined the forces.

But that wasn't why I asked her to step away.

I knew the moment I saw that grape slide between her teeth, Savannah was a woman I'd enjoy fucking. The kind who would love me to lift her around my waist as I pressed her against the wall and yanked her panties aside so my cock could fill her wet pussy.

If I touch her, I'm not sure I'd want to stop.

So my hands are staying put.

But if Savannah Sinclair thinks I'm going to be one of her adoring fans, she has another thing coming.

You look like you can defend yourself.

She's confident.

Well, so am I sweetheart.

"From women throwing themselves at me?" I smirk. "I think I could handle you."

Then I wink and circle around her to rejoin the party.