Forbidden Bodyguard for the Billionaire's Daughter

CHAPTER ONE

DECLAN

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“Declan Sloan, welcome to the team.” Ryder St. James, General Manager of Private Security, holds out his hand as I drop my bag to the floor.

I shake his firm grip.

It’s damn firm, but I’m not surprised; the guy is former Delta Force. We bumped into each other over the years when I was on the teams.

The SEAL teams, that is.

Which is how I know Josh Hawke, one of the founders of Black Hawke Security, the private security firm I’ve joined.

While he and Aidan—the other founder and US Marine—are based in Los Angeles, I’m told they’re in New York for a few days so will join us this morning.

It’s day one, and I’m already impressed with the sleek, high-spec offices. Facial recognition allowed me access to the building, which is rich in charcoal and beige tones, brushed metal and glass finishes, polished blond wood floors and layered lighting.

Glancing around, I take in the lofty ceilings, private offices dotted along the edges of the large room, a pool table, a few smartly designed acoustic private spaces and an open-plan cafe with stools and tall tables backed far into the corner.

“Thanks. Great to be here.” I survey the exits and do a quick analysis of all the people inside the office.

Out of habit.

I left the US Navy six weeks ago to join BHS after lengthy conversations and negotiations with Josh. I wasn’t sure if paramilitary was the path for me, but at a certain point you need to decide what your next career is going to look like. No one’s ever heard of a fifty-year-old active SEAL.

No one should.

Our bodies take a beating serving in the Special Forces branch of the Armed Forces. More than just our bodies.

Some of my pals have gone into law, politics, engineering, sales, podcasting, and written books.

Trouble is, their father wasn’t Commander Matthew Sloan, a decorated SEAL.

Mine was.

“Let me show you around.” Ryder then calls out to a young administrator who races over and blushes when she sees me.

I’m impressed with how quickly she hides it.

“How can I help you, sir?” she grins and gives me another quick look, her eyes going straight to my biceps.

I suppress an eye roll.

I’m used to it. That and being called a brick shithouse. At two hundred and forty pounds and six feet five, I deserve the title.

“For the two hundredth time, I told you not to call me sir, Raven. Ryder will do just fine.”

“I know, Mr. St. James but driving you crazy is literally in my job description.”

“It literally isn’t.” He crosses his arms.

“Are you suuuure?”

Raven is sassy and cute but clearly looking for trouble.

Ryder glances at me, seeking patience, and the corner of my lip twitches. I’m not the most smiley person in the world—ask anyone—but the sassy little firecracker sure is amusing.

“This is Declan,” Ryder introduces us. “Can you get us two coffees, please?”

Raven holds out a hand confidently, although her highly dilated pupils tell me she’s trying hard to hide her attraction. I’m not on an ego trip; I’ve been trained to be aware of everything.

Every. Thing.

And I am.

“You can call me sir if that helps.” I smirk and shake her hand.

“See, he’s a team player.” Raven grins widely as her cheeks turn pink.

With long dark hair to her tight wee ass and wearing a cropped black shirt, short black skirt and dark lace-up shoes, she’s every guy’s schoolgirl fantasy.

Not mine.

She’s amusing and pretty, but there’s not even a twitch going on behind my zipper.

“Black for me,” I say, and she wiggles her fingers as she leaves to fill our order.

“She’s trouble.” Ryder shakes his head and starts walking.

“I can see that,” I follow him through the building and take one last glance at Raven, who is now in the cafe chatting to a couple of guys.

Correction: she’s flirting.

A sense of brotherly protection flickers, and I wonder if she’s aware of what could happen if she trusted the wrong person.

I’ve seen girls who have been trafficked in different parts of the world, and it’s one of the most horrific things taking place right now.

The very essence of their soul is destroyed.

Everyone under this roof is safe. They wouldn’t be here if they weren’t. I know Josh vets his crew thoroughly. I just went through it, and I worked with him.

“She street smart?”

“Yes and no.” Ryder pushes open a door and waits for me to walk through. “She will be when I’m done with her.”

Good to hear.

“So, essentially we hot-desk here because most of the team are out on assignments and our head office is in Los Angeles,” he shares.

“It was great to visit last month, thanks for arranging that.”

“Travis, who you met and heads up the tech team, is recruiting someone to be based here in New York. East Coast-West Coast teams, essentially. All the systems will be the same regarding ordering what you need, whether IT, stationery, uniforms, et cetera.”

Ryder leads me into another room full of technology. I feel like I just walked into a toy shop. He hands me a tablet and cell phone. “These are ready to go, so I’m told. Did you get an email with all the logins?”

“I have that.”

“Great. Then let’s get you some metal.”

Yeehaa!

He unlocks a cabinet at the back of the room, and after a few clunks, he pulls two doors open, and there before me is a vast display of weapons.

“Nice.” I cross my arms and spread my legs.

“There’s no lack of toys around here,” Ryder says as a guy wearing a BHS T-shirt walks over. “Hey, Sam, sign him out a 9mm. Any of those new holsters in stock yet?”

“Came in yesterday,” Sam says and shakes my hand. “Hey, I’m Sam. You must be Declan.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Sam is a few inches shorter but solid as fuck. I’m going to guess he’s ex-Army or was a Marine.

“Welcome to the team. I’ve got your company ID and handgun ready, with some spare mags. Wasn’t sure what you prefer regarding uniforms, so let me show you what we have. Blazer, bomber jackets, pants, shirts.”

He opens another cupboard and starts sizing me up and pulling out plastic-wrapped clothing.

“I’ll take whatever you have,” I say. “Aside from casual civilian wear, I’ve been in either a Navy uniform or SEAL fatigues my entire adult life.”

“I feel that.” Ryder leans his ass against a table and watches us. “Then I traded tactical gear for BHS-branded clothing. When I married Savannah, she spent a truckload on a new wardrobe for me. Most of which I still haven’t worn.”

Savannah Sinclair.

Ryder married her a few years back, and the entire world was told. Savannah is a Hollywood movie star and one of the most famous women in the world. Some would say one of the most beautiful.

Before they were married, she was shot in her home, which made the news.

Now they have a child together.

I had a whole lot of thoughts about it, despite not knowing him. I mean the guy is former Delta, and he used to run through thick forests or mountain ranges with two rifles strapped to his body, war paint on his face, blood on his hands.

Marrying some demanding, wealthy broad from the Hollywood Hills didn’t feel on brand for him. It certainly isn’t something I’d do.

I’d last five minutes with a demanding celebrity.

A dominant man like me? I prefer my women submissive and begging to suck my cock while on her knees, wearing nothing but a pair of stilettos. If those heels came from Target, I couldn’t care less.

“So, turning up on the red carpet in fatigues doesn’t cut it, huh?” I laugh, taking a blazer from Sam and pulling it on over my black Nirvana T-shirt.

Ryder smiles privately, staring at his boots. Then his eyes lift to mine. “Honestly, she wouldn’t care. Sav is more interested in getting home to our baby and...our bed.”

The smile on his lips tells me everything I need to know.

He’s happy.

She’s a good woman.

Then again, I did hear she started from nothing, so she’s not someone who grew up with the silver spoon in her mouth. Guess that makes a difference.

Still not a path I see myself going down, but good for him.

Living in the wake of my father’s heroic status and how he married a good Christian woman and raised a son who ended up a SEAL like him. God, can you imagine if I brought home some movie star?

Jesus, Mom’s already pissed that I’ve left the Navy.

Dad?

Well...he’s no longer with us.

Raven turns up with our coffees. She hands one to Ryder with a soft sir, then holds mine out. I take it, and she winks, then spins around, her skirt flicking up as she does, and strides out.

I watch.

Because I’m a red-blooded man.

When she’s out of earshot, Sam groans under his breath. “To save you about two weeks and a bunch of rejection, Raven doesn’t date men she works with.”

Ryder coughs as he sips his coffee and pats his chest.

I press my lips together, fighting a smile.

Poor Sam.

“Thanks, man. I wouldn’t go there, but...don’t give up. Some women like to play hard to get.”

His cheeks turn red.

Sam seems like a good guy, but I’d make sure he was if Raven showed interest in him. God, I’m already playing big brother to her.

“You think? I mean, Christ, did you see that ass?”

“Okay, let’s not start any sexual harassment cases in the first quarter of trading, please. Plus, you might want to check your contract. No screwing anyone.” Ryder uncrosses his arms and then looks up, grinning. “Ah, here they are.”

“Greetings,” Josh strides in with Aidan in his wake.

We shake hands. Aidan fist bumps me.

“Looks good on you.” He nods to the blazer.

“Thought I’d be wearing beige all my life.” I laugh.

“Oh, come on, the overalls are blue.” Josh laughs, referring to our former SEAL attire.

Raven wanders in with a mug for him and a bottle of water for Aidan.

“Thanks, Raven.”

“You’re welcome, Josh.” She smiles.

“How do you—?” Ryder starts, then shakes his head. “Never mind.”

I chuckle silently.

Sam’s cell rings, and he answers it, disappearing into the back room somewhere. It appears the office is more of a rabbit warren than I thought, despite the large open space you first walk into. I have a feeling that’s by design and for security.

“If you have everything you need, let’s head to the boardroom so we can brief you on your first client.” Josh nudges his chin toward the door. “We’re only here for the day, then flying back to the East Coast.”

I gather up my things. “It’s a shame we won’t be based in the same state, but I’m grateful for this opportunity, Josh. Honestly.”

It might have taken a lot of talking me into it, but after some soul-searching, I knew the opportunity to use my skills in private security was the right next step for me.

Mom might not agree, but this is my life.

I think sometimes me being an active SEAL keeps Dad alive for her. Keeps her connected to the Navy and everyone who adored him. But I can’t make choices in life to please her. Not anymore. I stayed longer than I wanted and can admit that to myself now.

He died twelve years ago.

“I’ll be back at Christmas. We have a conference to attend, so Aidan and I are bringing our wives with us.” Josh pushes through the doors we came in through, and we all follow. “We should organize something to catch up in December.”

“That would be good.”

We walk down to the meeting room and find seats around the boardroom table. I fire up my new tablet.

Aidan answered a call from his wife, and the entire room can hear the screams of his twin babies through the speaker.

“Christ.” He sits, shaking his head after hanging up. “Got more sleep on the jet flying overnight than in my own damn home on a good day.”

Ryder chuckles.

“Are you moving to New York, Ryder?” I ask when a thought strikes me. He and Savannah are based in Los Angeles.

“No, not at this point. We’ll be recruiting managers to look after all the satellite branches while I manage them from LA.”

“Which we need to finalize and get those people in seats fast.” Josh tosses back the last of his coffee and taps his laptop. “Word-of-mouth growth in the private security side of our business has been enormous. You joining now is good timing. I hate saying no to money.”

I laugh.

“He’s not joking.” Aidan types a message on his phone, then flips it over. “This new client needs you to start tomorrow. Today, actually, but we told them they had to wait until tomorrow.”

They have my attention.

“Yeah?” I shift my frame in the chair, having removed the blazer, which I need a bigger size in, and lean my arm on the table. “Who is it? A politician? Some foreign businessman?”

Josh rubs his jaw, and I know the moment I glance at him that I’m not going to like the answer.

“Stella Voss.”

Who the fuck is Stella Voss?