Bodyguard Eddie Dever always has a wisecrack at the ready so no one will guess the painful past he keeps under wraps. Until the younger brother he abandoned gets scooped up by the FBI on murder charges, that is. Clearing Leo’s name is the first step on Eddie’s path to redemption—if he can get past the ice queen FBI agent in charge of the task force connected to the case.
Special Agent Hannah Malone is laser focused on putting the crime boss responsible for her brother’s death behind bars, even if that means informant Leo Dever becomes a casualty. Telling Eddie a few lies, stretching a couple truths, and misleading the one man willing to help her … well, it’s a small price to pay for justice.
But things get sticky when the two go undercover as Mr. and Mrs. and the pretense starts to feel all too real. Unfortunately, both Eddie and Hannah have one more surprise up their sleeves that can blow the lid off of more than a crime boss’s enterprise.
Can they find a way to trust before they take the job too far?
by Dana Volney
Sensuality Level: Sensual
Dana Volney lets her imagination roam free in Wyoming where she writes romances and helps local businesses succeed with her marketing consulting company. Find Dana Volney at www.DanaVolney.com, on Facebook, and on Twitter @VolneyVentures.
An excerpt from Protecting Her Secrets:
Eddie Dever stood tall and broadened his already wide chest as he walked one step in front of his pop star client, Courtney, scanning the crowd for any threatening snarls, clenched fists, intense stares, reddening faces, or a wide stance conveying dominance. Add in plain old intuition—instincts he’d developed over the years dating back to his middle school days—and he was damn solid at his job. Amelia Roe, his partner, was bringing up the rear.
“Lookin’ good, Roe.” His self-engineered earcomms they both wore would pick up his voice even through the crowd’s shrilling.
“Same here.” Amelia’s low tone held authority; she no doubt was in constant scan of their surroundings.
Musicians sucked to guard, but this protection gig was pretty chill. Not that he’d be caught dead admitting that. He’d ward off a few more tenacious young girls who wanted to press forward for selfies and autographs, and in fifteen minutes, his contract would officially end. He was going to spend the night buried in something soft: his pillow.
“I got eyes on activity,” one of the other guards piped up. “Possible weapon.”
“Where?” He glanced back to the guy on his left, who stood toward the back of the crowd, his heartbeat increasing.
“To my eight.” The husky fella moved with purpose for a couple steps then pulled back. “False alarm.”
Eddie resumed monitoring the crowd in front of him, a woman too old to be a tween fangirling and too young to be the mother of said tween was smiling at him. And flashing some seriously sultry brown eyes. Hard. Well, hello there. Maybe a pillow wouldn’t be the only soft thing in his bed tonight. Wait, was that Donna Martin who he always wanted to ask out in high school? Wow, she really looked good with her hair red. But damned if he ever thought she was the biker jacket kind of gal. No, whoops, that profile wasn’t quite right. Not Donna.
The three guards made a path through the crowd, and he stepped to the side of the protruding steps that led to the tour bus their client called home, keeping one eye on the persistent redhead who was totally checking him out.
“Get her into the bus, and I’ll cover you.” He stood, legs squared with his shoulders, in the all-black suit and shirt he’d been required to wear for this assignment.
He may as well add a pair of black sunglasses and complete the cliché. His jeans and polo shirts were calling his name. He much preferred the jobs where he could be in the background, securing the client and blending in without a suit screaming that he was a bodyguard. It was well into the night, but the parking lot in the back of the arena was lit up like noon. He slowly moved his gaze over the crowd again, keeping his hands clasped him front of him, making sure to land his gaze on the petite woman in skinny jeans who was still watching him and had managed to inch up in the crowd. That settled that; in ten minutes, he was going to say hello. He shot her his best smile, the one he knew the ladies liked, that showed his pearly whites but wasn’t so big as to be arrogant.
“Can I get an autograph?” A lanky kid, probably a little too old to be pining after a teen pop star, shoved a paper and pen toward Amelia’s back. Courtney was on the second step, but she turned around, waving at the crowd and shouting her thanks to her fans.
“No more autographs at this time.” Eddie moved his arm between Amelia and the wide-eyed kid wearing a shirt of Courtney’s face enlarged to the point of being nearly pixelated.
“It’ll only take a minute.”
He almost smiled at the voice crack, but that would break the poor kid’s fragile, infatuated heart even further.
“Sorry.” Eddie swept his hand out toward the kid to back him off, nodding to the other guards to escort the overzealous fan away.
Then he found Ms. Redhead’s gaze again, because, dammit, he hadn’t met someone in a while.