STUCK WITH MY GRUMPY BODYGUARD

The good news? I’m filthy rich. The bad news? I have a stalker.

When winning the lottery turned me into a walking, talking cash cow, I did what any smart, newly minted millionaire would do—I hired a bodyguard.

Enter Jackson Thorne: broody, bossy, and about as much fun as a tax audit.

He’s all muscle and rules, and I’m all impulse and glitter.

Forced into close quarters with Mr. No-Nonsense himself, I should be focused on the whole not getting kidnapped thing. 

But instead, I’m wondering what he looks like without that shirt. (And how I can get inside it.)

The more he protects me, the more I want to break his rules—especially the one about keeping things professional.

Bit by bit, I get glimpses of what's underneath his fortress-type walls. And I can't get enough.

Turns out, persistence pays, and I just hit a jackpot bigger than my lotto win.

But when danger tracks us to our idyllic paradise hideout, amongst the chaos, disguises, and escape plans, I realize one thing: money can't buy him...and I can’t let him go.

So, I do what any self-respecting multi-millionaire would do: kidnap him.

My fingers tap against my to-go coffee cup, the motion restless, my nails clicking against the lid. The cup is half-empty because I’ve been sipping on it for comfort while I wait. Jackson Thorne is late. And I’m starting to second-guess this whole idea. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Jeremy is just a harmless jerk who’ll eventually get the hint and move on. Hiring a bodyguard? Overkill, right?

Then again, the note on my door wasn’t harmless, and the weight of it still sits in my purse like a lead brick.

The door swings open, and I glance up. My breath catches.

He’s here.

Jackson Thorne is nothing like I imagined. I was expecting a mountainous bulky guy with acne scars and greasy hair. Instead, Jackson is muscular, but lean. Tall and broad-shouldered, just not as mountainous as I'd imagined. He's attractive. Very attractive—brown hair that's slightly messy but neatly trimmed, sharp features, chiseled jawline, and he's wearing a slight perma-frown. It’s his eyes that strike me most—sharp, assessing, and cold as steel. He walks into the café with an air of command, his whole being exudes raw masculinity.

His gaze sweeps over the room with calculated precision, scanning every exit, every table, every patron, as if mapping out potential threats in the span of three seconds. Then his eyes lock onto me, and I suddenly feel like he's burning lasers into me. 

"I REALLY enjoyed reading this story. Dare I say? I even loved several scenes and parts of it. I even wish it was longer with more scenes, not because it needed it, but because I wanted more of the main characters together!

The writing is great, sex scenes are well done, the growth with the characters is good, and how the characters grew together was excellent. Delightful."