Protect me Not ((Un)Professionally Yours Book 2), page 1
Contents
Also By Natasha Anders
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also By Natasha Anders
THE UNWANTED SERIES
The Unwanted Wife
A Husband’s Regret
His Unlikely Lover
ALPHA MEN SERIES
The Wingman
The Best Man
The Wrong Man
THE BROKEN PIECES DUET
More Than Anything
Nothing But This
(UN)PROFESSIONALLY YOURS SERIES
The Best Next Thing
A Ruthless Proposition
Promises of Forever
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2021 by Natasha Anders
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Cover by Sweet N Spicy Designs
Cover Image by Lindee Robinson Photography
Formatting by Ashleigh Giannoccaro
To May Sage and Ashleigh Giannoccaro. I consider myself extremely lucky to have such wonderful friends as you. It is not an exaggeration to say that this book would not have been possible without you.
Chapter One
He wouldn’t stop staring. It was unsettling. Even though Victoria—Vic or Vicki to family and friends—Hollingsworth had asked him to keep his distance, those unnervingly beautiful eyes remained trained on her.
And her friend was starting to notice.
“So that’s his job? He stares at you while you’re just living your life, doing your flower stuff? Eating? Entertaining? What about pooping and peeing? Is he there for that as well?” Bella, her best friend, asked while stirring her strawberry daiquiri with a curly straw.
Bella and her boyfriend had been temporarily working in Australia the last eighteen months and this was the first time she was around to witness Vicki’s new normal.
Vicki rolled her eyes and jabbed at her own drink—a frozen margarita—with a straw, trying to break up the tightly jammed ice at the bottom of her glass.
“I thought Miles would have come to his senses by now,” she said, referring to her older brother. “But it’s been more than a year, and he still insists that I need a bodyguard. It’s so embarrassing. And now that Miles is out of the country, he’s gotten even more overprotective. One little break in…”
“To be fair you said there had been other incidents in the neighborhood as well, Vic. And it wasn’t a break in, it was a store invasion. You were attacked.”
Vicki shuddered at the recollection. Last year, a couple of guys in balaclavas had stormed into her tiny flower shop in Kensington. They’d roughed up Vicki and her manager—Linda— before making off with all the cash in the register. The robbers had also taken their electronic devices, Vicki’s engraved silver locket—a twenty-first birthday present from her other brother, Hugh—and Linda’s charm bracelet. There had been similar incidents at other shops both before and after their robbery. But, thankfully, after a short crime spree, the culprits were caught and most of their valuables were recovered.
Yet Miles—seriously ill at the time—had freaked out and had sicced close protection officer, Tyler Chambers, on her. And Tyler took his job seriously—Vicki couldn’t even use a public restroom without him checking it out first. So embarrassing. And so very restrictive. Vicki hated the close scrutiny. It was invasive. But Miles refused to see reason.
“Yes, and I told him I’d be happy if he wanted to beef up my shop security or something. But nope, he insisted that I need personal protection practically 24/7.”
“What happens if you meet someone you want to…you know?” Bella pumped her index finger into the hole she’d created with the thumb and index finger of the opposite hand, and Vicki laughed and groaned at the same time.
“Please, it’s hard to meet a decent guy when you’ve got Mr. Strong-and-Silent floating around you like a bad smell at all times. I’ve been on a couple of dates but none of them ended well. And he practically drove Sullivan off.”
Okay, that was a little unfair. Her kind of ex—Sullivan didn’t believe in labels and had shunned the boyfriend title—had had one foot out the door for the entirety of their three month “relationship”. Vicki knew that he had mostly used the whole bodyguard thing as an excuse to bail. It also hadn’t escaped her notice that his interest in her had waned significantly once she’d stopped paying for his meals and drinks.
She hated it when Miles was right about the “freeloaders” she dated and had happily blamed Tyler’s intrusive presence for Sullivan’s departure.
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. It’s bad enough having him around all day. I just want to catch up with my bestie tonight and have a fabulous time.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Bella agreed, setting aside her cocktail to lift the tequila shot she had ordered earlier, waiting for Vicki to lift hers. Vicki eyed the drink askance—she wasn’t too big on straight, hard liquor, and she didn’t often get wasted. Then her eyes drifted back to where Tyler sat. For once his attention wasn’t on her, he was scanning the crowd grimly.
What the hell? Might as well take advantage of having a bodyguard. It was actually kind of reassuring to know that she could let loose for a change and be perfectly safe.
She lifted her shot glass and her friend’s smile widened.
Bella licked a sprinkle of salt off the back of her hand and twinkled at Vicki, her eyes shining, her teeth gleaming, a spark of the familiar mischief that Vicki had missed so much, in her eyes.
“Cheers, all m’dears,” she began, and Vicki laughed before joining in, “We don’t have no fears. So, kick up the gears and bring on the beers!”
They squealed and threw back their shots before sucking on the provided lemon slices with matching grimaces.
“Pubmeister, another round if you please,” Bella commanded the barkeeper, with a soggy grin, her eyes streaming after the shot, and the young man complied immediately.
Fuck, this night felt endless. Despite his boredom, Tyler Chambers kept his expression neutral and maintained a discreet distance from his principal as he followed her through London’s busy Soho district toward yet another pub. This was the fifth stop in as many hours.
And there was talk of dancing. Not that Vicki, or her friend, could walk in a straight line, but Ty’s job was to ensure her safety and not interfere with her decisions, unless they directly affected said safety. Currently, she was only in danger of waking up with a wicked hangover in the morning.
He had watched her drunkenly, and somewhat incompetently, flirt with several hopefuls, all of whom had taken one glance at his hovering presence before beating a hasty retreat. And yeah, maybe Ty wasn’t supposed to make himself so obvious but, fuck it, he was feeling petty. And watching Victoria Hollingsworth getting frisky with some loser asshole wasn’t high on his to-do list this evening. If she were sober, she would have noticed how much he was overstepping her strict “stay over there and don’t interfere” mandate. But she was staggeringly wasted and getting more so with each pub.
Her friend was vibrant and beautiful. Tall, elegant, and poised. Very different from Vicki, who had a subtle, interesting allure that could only be described as unconventional. From the top of her bouncy riot of black curls, to her too large nose, incandescent gray, long-lashed eyes, a ridiculously lush mouth, and a jawline that mimicked her oldest brother’s stern one with softer lines, nothing about Victoria Hollingsworth screamed ordinary. But her attractiveness was subjective…and it was her friend’s pretty vivaciousness that was currently attracting all the male attention. Vicki was the focus of some of the spillover, which was making his job a little less predictable tonight.
The two women were arm in arm, swaying and singing, as they walked toward the next pub.
Ty, who had kept ten feet between himself and the women at all times, lengthened his stride to catch up with them. He gently caught hold of Vicki’s elbow, ensuring that his grasp was loose enough for her to remain unintimidated by his proximity and grip.
“Hold up, Miss H. You know the drill.”
“Oh, my God. This is so tedious,” she griped, without any real heat.
It was a familiar refrain. She had never been shy to voice her opinion about his presence in her life. And while she appeared resigned to it now, she s
“Just stay put for a second while I check it out, ‘kay?”
She rolled her eyes and teetered on her preposterously high heels, before regaining her balance and propping a hand against the closest wall for support.
“Fine! We’ll wait here, right, Bells?”
Her friend, not in much better condition, nodded, but didn’t seem quite aware of what was happening around her.
Shit. He didn’t want to leave them out here, not like this. He cast a glance down the street. Not too many people close by, just a group of noisy, drunk guys far enough away for Ty to make it into the pub and out again before they could present any possible threat to the women.
“Do not move,” he warned Vicki. Her only response was to blow an errant black curl out of her face.
Gritting his teeth, Ty took another assessing look at the road before striding into the noisy pub. It was crowded, but most of the people here looked like Saturday workers, unwinding with friends. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not that he was expecting anything, but it was his job and, while he didn’t believe that Victoria Hollingsworth was truly at risk of abduction or anything else, he still had to go through the motions.
He swung around and exited the noisy pub.
“Okay, you’re good to…fuck!”
Where the hell had they gone? The street was empty…still the same drunken group of guys, closer than they had been a minute ago.
Yet, his charge and her friend were nowhere to be seen.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
How the hell could two seriously tipsy women completely disappear in just a minute? Jesus Christ, he hoped they hadn’t climbed into some predatory fucker’s car.
This was what happened when you allowed yourself to get too complacent. You became careless, made stupid mistakes. He should have dragged them into the damned pub with him. But the notion of corralling a pair of drunk women had been too damned exasperating and he had taken the easy way out and convinced himself that they would be fine. That she would be fine, and now he had fucking lost her.
Shit! He would have to contact HQ. He needed reinforcements, ASAP. He reached for his phone, tucked away in his breast pocket, and braced himself for the inevitable fucking flack he was going to get for this. His colleagues were only now easing up on him after he’d lost track of an entitled pop princess a few years ago. The ragging had been relentless.
Ty didn’t want to be that guy. The one whose charges always got the drop on him. Losing his fucking principal was inexcusable. With Laura Prentiss—aforementioned pop princess—it had been embarrassing, but it had ultimately ended well. But if Vicki got hurt because he’d done such a piss poor job of protecting her, he didn’t think he’d recover from it. Or ever forgive himself.
He did another visual sweep of the road and…
“Son of a motherfucking bitch!” he muttered, from between his teeth, ignoring the overwhelming tide of relief that threatened to send him to his knees. “I’ll kill her, I’ll fucking…”
The huddle of wasted guys down the road had parted to reveal the two giggling women in their midst. One cheeky drunk bastard had an arm curled around Vicki’s waist, and she was snort laughing at whatever he was whispering in her ear.
Livid that the women had shown zero regard for his stern command that they stay put and pissed off with himself for not keeping a closer eye on them—her—in the first place, Ty closed the distance between himself and the merry group in ten seconds flat.
Vicki, who was in the process of pushing the clingy fucker’s hand away from her ass, froze when she saw him.
“Ruh roh,” she said, in a comically terrible Scooby Doo voice, her pretty gray eyes so wide they practically swallowed her face. The guys remained oblivious to his presence. Handsy was still trying get his paw on Vicki’s pert ass, and she absently pushed it aside. Irritation flashed over her face when the guy’s hand drifted south again mere seconds after her rejection.
She tried to wriggle away, but his arm tightened around her waist, and her brow creased.
“I don’t normally go for birds with glasses, but you’re okay,” Prince Charming informed her generously.
“Yeah?” Vicki responded; her speech was starting to slur. “I don’t normally go for guys with small dicks, but you’re probably okay too. Nah, scratch that, I have standards. You’re well below them.” The guy draped all over her was too drunk to truly register much, but the words “small dick”—along with his buddies’ sniggers—were enough to get his back up.
“Oi, now see here you little bi—”
Right. That was about enough of that. Ty stepped forward, and the guys finally registered his presence.
“Back off, asshole,” he told Handsy, who glared at him and, unwisely, tightened his arm around Vicki’s waist again.
“Ooh, a Yank,” the dumbass jeered before launching into a ridiculous accent that Ty assumed was meant to be an imitation of his. “What you gonna do, pardner? Shoot me?”
Fuck this asshole. With the residual bitter tang of fear still coating his tongue, and his self-directed anger at losing track of Victoria Hollingsworth, for even just a few minutes, eating him up inside, Ty was pumped for an outlet. Unfortunately, he couldn’t go around thrashing idiots for no reason, especially when he could wipe the floor with them.
But when the guy’s hand, again, reached for Vicki’s ass, Ty saw red and reacted with lightning sharp reflexes. He grabbed the offending appendage and bent it backward until it hurt just enough to make the guy squeal. Finding herself abruptly released, Vicki stumbled toward Bella.
“Fuuuuck! Ow!” the guy yelped, causing the other four surged toward Ty and their hapless buddy. Ty reversed his grip, and folded the asshole’s arm behind his back, flipping him around to face his friends. The group staggered to a confused halt.
“How about you gentlemen move along without fuss, and I don’t break your friend’s arm?” He had no intention of doing any such thing, in fact he made sure that the fool was only marginally uncomfortable, and not in any real pain.
He twisted the arm higher, and the guy cried out. “Shit, come on, man…Le’ me go!”
Ty bent to mutter in the other man’s ear. “Next time a woman pushes your hand off her ass multiple times, she’s probably not interested. Clear?”
Ty shoved him toward his friends, but they weren’t prepared for his weight, and they all went tumbling in a heap of arms and legs. Ty turned away from them—never losing track of their movements—and shifted his attention to the women.
Vicki was glaring at him, her glasses askew, her black hair rioting around her face in a mass of silky, luxurious curls. She looked pissed off. Well, he didn’t give a fuck. He was calling it.
“We’re leaving.”
“What? No way. The night’s still young.”
“It’s nearly midnight.”
“So? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin or something? No, that was the carriage…you’re more like a footman and they were lizards, right? Snakes? Or were they rats?”
Jesus, this woman. Ty’s jaw felt like it would crack, he was gritting his teeth so hard. She would singlehandedly undo the years of orthodontic work his parents had spent so much money on.
“My point is, that the pubs are closed or will be closing soon. And since you can barely stand upright anyway, it’s probably best to call it a night.”
“Bells and I are going dancing.”
Her friend peered at Ty with wide brown eyes, looking like a doe caught in the headlights.
“And cockblocking me is not part of your job description,” Vicki grumbled.
