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Special Ops Bodyguard. Beth CornelisonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Special Ops Bodyguard - Beth Cornelison


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the endless parade of reports blasting his private life to the world. The beautiful blonde now simpering for the cameras and staring back at him from the screen had been a temptation too great to resist while he’d been vacationing in Aspen two years ago. Apparently the Colorado ski resort didn’t have the same motto of discretion that Vegas did. Not that his Vegas tryst had “stayed in Vegas” either. So far, six of his affairs had been aired for the media as one willowy blonde after another had come forward, maligning his name and driving another nail into the coffin of his marriage.

      Hank rattled the ice in the highball glass he clutched, then tossed back the last gulp of Maker’s Mark. If only the women coming out of the woodwork were the worst of his problems. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Hank set the glass aside and used the remote to turn off the TV. Acid swirled in his gut as he considered the dangers that had driven him into hiding. While his mistresses took aim at his reputation, other enemies had threatened his life. Had put his family in the crosshairs.

      Just days ago, someone had taken his only daughter, Lana, hostage in an attempt to win his cooperation with a nefarious plot, and his son Dylan had hired two bodyguards to babysit him around the clock. Arrangements had been made for him to come here, to the Bar Lazy K, to hide.

      Hide! Like some pathetic rabbit scurrying down a hole away from a fox. He was a senator, damn it! A leader! He hated the idea of holing up in his son’s ranch like some cowering wimp. He needed to be doing something to find Lana. To get the wolves off his back. Not hiding at his son’s house, no matter how well-protected and secure the ranch was.

      Hank gritted his teeth and drummed his fingers on the bedside table.

      If only he’d never gone to that meeting of the Raven’s Head Society, the highly secretive assembly of powerful men who now had him by the balls, he wouldn’t be in this mess. Lana would still be safe in Europe. His career wouldn’t be on the line. He wouldn’t be constantly looking over his shoulder wondering who he could trust.

      Or waiting for the media to flash breaking news that President Joe Colton had been killed and he’d been framed as the chief suspect in the murder conspiracy.

      Hindsight might be twenty-twenty, but it provided no solutions—only deep regret. He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist on the bedside table. Dammit, there has to be a way to stop this juggernaut before anyone gets hurt!

      Across the room, Bart Holden, his night-duty bodyguard, folded his arms over his barrel chest. “If you’re ready to call it a night, I’ll give you some privacy. If you need me, I’ll be right outside the door. Or you can use the intercom.”

      Hank cast a side glance to the call button by his bed and jerked a nod. “Good night.”

      One reason for coming to Cole’s ranch rather than lying low somewhere else was Cole’s elaborate security system, which Hank’s somewhat paranoid mother had installed to protect her vast wealth before selling the property to her grandsons. The entire main house had been wired with an intercom system, the wine cellar had been modified to be a panic room in case of trouble, and security cameras and an alarm system protected each outbuilding and the main house.

      But being locked down in a house as secure as Fort Knox didn’t ease Hank’s mind. Lana was being held hostage. The president was in danger. And past mistakes of every sort had crept out of the shadows to ruin Hank’s career and threaten his life.

      He had to find a way to stop the Raven’s Head Society. And soon.

      Kate rubbed her throbbing elbow, which had taken the brunt of her fall, and held her breath as Gage squared off with Larry. This could get ugly.

      She glanced toward the kitchen where Pete Greenburg, the cook, would be cleaning pots and pans in preparation for closing. Pete, who had recently celebrated his sixtieth birthday, had expressed his concern for Janet’s situation before, but also made it clear he chose to stay out of other people’s business. The cook would be of little help if a brawl erupted.

      Maybe she should call the local police. Or better yet, since Larry had too many friends in the Maple Cove Police Department, she should call Wes Colton, the county sheriff. Wes had a reputation with the ranchers for being a fair and reliable lawman.

      “Let. Go. Of. Her. Arm.” Gage grated through clenched teeth. His icy blue eyes lasered into Larry, and veins stood out on his linebacker neck.

      Rising slowly from the floor and dusting her hands, Kate studied Gage’s glowering countenance and chiseled features. His granite expression brooked no resistance, nor did his unflinching position blocking Larry’s escape. Muscled arms, one with a barbed wire tattoo around his bicep, folded across a chest wide enough to more than fill the door.

      Kate shivered. If she hadn’t seen flashes of good humor from Gage earlier, she’d swear the man was made of rock or steel. Hard. Cold. Surly.

      Yet he was defending her and Janet from Larry’s rough treatment. Something no other man in Maple Cove had ever done. Larry’s buddies on the police force looked the other way every time Kate called them to help Janet. Of course, it didn’t help that Janet never pressed charges.

      He didn’t mean it, Katie. I’m fine. I provoked him. He’s sorry, and he promised never to do it again.

      Kate was thoroughly sick of Janet’s excuses, but what could she do if her sister refused to leave the abusive marriage? Kate would stick by Janet, her only blood relative, as long as it took.

      Knowing that this rough-hewn man, this stranger who had found his way to their small town, was taking her side, seeing the situation for what it was and doing something about it, made Kate feel a certain bond with him. As though they were allies in a war.

      Even if her ally was rather … brutish and gruff.

      He was here, after all, to protect Hank Kelley. That meant he had to be tough. Right? But he was still a good guy. Wasn’t he?

      “Move your ass,” Larry snarled, releasing Janet but not backing down from his opponent.

      Gage held firm. “Apologize to Kate for shoving her and to Janet for hurting her arm.”

      “Bite me.” Larry balled his fists.

      The dark glare Gage nailed on Larry left a cold dread curling in Kate’s stomach. Ally or not, she decided the smart move on her part would be to avoid Gage Prescott while he was in town. She had no room in her life for brutish, grouchy men, even if she had felt a spark of attraction earlier, when he’d cracked his granite facade for an instant. She’d have sworn he was flirting with her, that he’d felt the same crackle of electricity when their eyes had met.

      But what did she know about men? She’d never had more than a few dates before she’d moved to Maple Cove, and the list of available, desirable men in her new home was frighteningly short. Kate had resigned herself to being alone and celibate for the foreseeable future, because she refused to abandon her sister. Somehow she had to save Janet from her bad marriage and poor choices.

      A muscle in Gage’s square jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth. “Apologize to the ladies. Or we’ll still be standing here at breakfast tomorrow morning.”

      Kate had no doubt Gage had the stamina to outlast Larry in a battle of wills. She stooped to right the chairs she’d knocked over as she fell, but she kept a wary eye on the standoff.

      Larry finally huffed a disgusted sigh and turned an angry gaze aside. “Sorry, Kate. Janet.”

      He cut a sharp look to Gage and cocked his head as if to say, “Well?”

      Gage grunted and stepped aside.

      Kate hurried over to her sister and stopped her from following Larry out the door. “Don’t go yet, Janet. Give him time to cool off.”

      Janet shook her head. “He won’t cool down. He’ll just get madder. It’s better if I go now.”

      “Janet!” Larry barked from the sidewalk, “Come on—now, or you’re walking home!”

      She


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