Jerks and Caicos (A Chrysus Defense #2)

When vacation mode turns to survival mode.

Being a successful real estate agent is rewarding. I get to help change people’s lives and have fun by bolstering my business on social media. It can also be draining. Especially when I have only myself to blame for my go-go-go work ethic. Well, maybe I can blame my dad. He didn’t get to be a well-respected judge by playing it safe and taking time off. But maybe all I need is a vacation.

During a lunch date with my father, he doesn’t suggest taking some deserved R&R, he TELLS me he’s sending me to Turks and Caicos. An all expenses paid vacation, fortuitously timed. But he also doesn’t give me much choice in the matter. I may be fiercely independent--and in my thirties, mind you--but arguing against Judge Penbrook is a lost cause. I know from experience. So, I decide there isn’t any harm in going.

It’ll be the perfect opportunity to show my followers that working hard pays off. I post my time in the airport, glimpses of the teal waters when I land, and I pose outside the resort I’m staying at for two weeks.

Getting settled takes zero time. But just when I’m about to answer the door for my room service (a girl needs margaritas and a quesadilla after flying), I’m met with an imposing and impossibly attractive man who claims to be hired by my dad. "Phantom" is to be my new bodyguard, for reasons I haven’t been informed of.

He weasels his way inside and starts telling me how the duration of MY vacation is going to go. Yeah, that’s not going work. I have a rigid schedule of tanning, napping, light work, and eating my way through the island--none of which can be achieved with a babysitter hovering over my shoulder. But when Phantom informs me of the looming danger, I give in to his presence. Nothing bad can happen to me while vacationing somewhere tropical, right?

How wrong I am.

I do need someone who is skilled in protection, and as much as I hate to admit it, Phantom’s military background has me feeling better, despite the bullets flying at us. If being forced to flee my idyllic vacation isn’t bad enough, I’m now on the run with a bodyguard who is quickly turning into everything I never knew I needed. Or wanted.

Even if his stupidly handsome face and bulging arms irritate me. But with each mile we put behind us, those features--and others--become more and more distracting.

How did my jerk of a babysitter turn into someone I might...love?