Ruthless Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Sybil Bartel

  Cover art by: CT Cover Creations

  Cover Photo by: Greenowl Photography

  Cover Model: Adam Cayce

  Edited by: Hot Tree Editing

  Formatting by: Champagne Book Design

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Sybil Bartel

  Ruthless

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Epilogue

  Scandalous

  Merciless

  Reckless

  Fearless

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Sybil Bartel

  The Alpha Bodyguard Series

  SCANDALOUS

  MERCILESS

  RECKLESS

  RUTHLESS

  FEARLESS

  The Uncompromising Series

  TALON

  NEIL

  ANDRÉ

  BENNETT

  CALLAN

  The Alpha Escort Series

  THRUST

  ROUGH

  GRIND

  The Alpha Antihero Series

  HARD LIMIT

  HARD JUSTICE

  HARD SIN

  The Unchecked Series

  IMPOSSIBLE PROMISE

  IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE

  IMPOSSIBLE END

  The Rock Harder Series

  NO APOLOGIES

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  RUTHLESS

  Bodyguard.

  Protector.

  Security Detail.

  I wasn’t supposed to join the Marines and serve three tours. I’d been groomed to be another kind of warrior. Since I could walk, I’d been primed to take over the family business. Build the real estate empire bigger, ruthlessly fight my way to the top—make everyone richer.

  Instead, I’d enlisted. Wanting to protect my country, not a bank account, I’d turned my back on the family business and given the Marines eight years. Now I was a bodyguard for the best personal security firm in the business, and life was perfectly uncomplicated… until an innocent redhead smiled at me and destroyed everything.

  Now she was about to find out how ruthless a bodyguard could be.

  For Jeff and Kristen

  “HE RAN TOWARD ME, TAIL wagging, big ears flapping, and landed with his two giant paws on my chest, he was that big.” She grinned. “I was lucky I didn’t fall clear on my a—” She stopped herself. “I mean, I was lucky he didn’t knock me over.” She laughed nervously. “It was adorable. Well, if you like that sort of thing, you know, dogs. Do you like dogs?”

  She was babbling.

  Three in the morning, and she was still fucking talking. She hadn’t stopped talking for over six hours.

  I didn’t say shit.

  I didn’t have to.

  She kept going.

  “I mean, what’s not to like? Dogs are amazing. So yeah, I didn’t mind when he gave me a big welcoming kiss.” Holding her tablet and her phone precariously in one hand, she again went to lift another chair.

  Again I stopped her. Taking the chair, stacking it on the others I’d already placed, I moved around the table and grabbed the last three chairs.

  She inhaled deeply and let it out in a rush. “Well, I guess that’s it for the rental chairs.” Holding her tablet and phone against her chest, she scanned the lanai, then her gaze drifted to the bar that had been set up for her boss’s party. “Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it, but you didn’t have to stay for cleanup.” She smiled. “I’m sure that wasn’t on your list of bodyguard responsibilities.”

  Personal protection, I mentally corrected her.

  She waved her hand through the air as she spun in a half circle, and her wild red curls bounced around her face. “I’m just going to… do something about the remaining alcohol so my boss doesn’t have to deal with it in the morning. Then this party will officially be over and I can find another party to plan.” Her smile dropped. “And another boss, er, client.” She blew a strand of hair off her face. “But she was a really good boss. Nice, you know?”

  Her current boss was a client of the personal security firm I worked for. My shift had ended over an hour ago, but for some reason I was still here, staring at the red curl that had fallen over her face for the thousandth time tonight. And her ass.

  Black silk hugging her curves, she waved her hand over her shoulder. “Anyhoo, you can go. I’m sure you have much better things to do than listen to me talk your ear off. And my boss seems to be safe from whatever you and the other bodyguards were protecting her from. No one told me what happened, and it would be unprofessional of me to pry, so I’m not, I swear, but I know something happened. Or, at least I think it did. Anyway, whatever it was, it seems fine now, so you can go.” She corralled three bottles of booze from the bar in the arm that wasn’t holding her tablet and phone and brought them to her chest like she was going to lift them all at once. “I’ll just take these into the kitchen where the catering company can pick them up tomorrow. Thanks again for your help.”

  I saw the accident waiting to happen a mile away.

  Fortunately, I wasn’t a mile away. I was two strides, and I took them.

  I reached her as the middle bottle slipped from her grasp, and I caught it.

  She laughed. “Wow. You’re like a ninja. I think that’s the fifth time tonight you’ve saved me from dropping something.”

  Eleventh.

  I took the other two bottles from her, and she reached for three more.

  “Seriously.” She swept her arm around her haul. “You don’t have to help. I got this.” Her phone slipped out of her grasp. “Oh!”

 
I caught her phone, but then I lost my patience. “Enough.” I took her tablet and shoved the bottles away from her.

  Her eyes went wide, and she blinked. “Oh. Oh wow.”

  I put my hand on her shoulder and steered her toward a stool in front of the bar. “Sit.” I tossed her tablet and phone on the bar and grabbed a glass and the whiskey.

  Her ass landed on the stool. “That’s the first time you’ve spoken to me in… hours.”

  I poured a double and shoved the tumbler toward her. “Drink.”

  She blinked again. “But I don’t drink alcohol.”

  “Start.”

  “Ohh-kay.” She drew the word out, picking up the glass.

  Except she didn’t drink. She looked up at me like she’d been looking at me all night—with big, hazel doe eyes, and the single thought I’d been trying to avoid since I first laid eyes on her came back in spades.

  Her, submitting.

  Under me, over me, on her knees, I didn’t care. I’d imagined a hundred ways to take her, and all of them involved the same thing. Dominating the fuck out of her nervous energy and innocence.

  She swirled the glass in a move that I was sure wasn’t practiced for seduction, but was merely because she didn’t sit still. “Any particular reason for the drink?”

  “Pick one.” There were dozens.

  She was a hot mess.

  She never shut up.

  Her hair was everywhere.

  She dropped everything.

  Her black dress was too tight.

  She smiled too much, and she was innocent to the point of naïve. But I wanted to fuck her more than any woman I’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Okay.” She smiled wide. “How about to new friends?”

  “I’m not your friend.” Friends didn’t have the thoughts I was having.

  Hurt filtered across her features before she masked it. “Oh.” She shifted on the stool, and her foot slipped from the footrest. “Oops.” She righted herself with a shy smile. “Well, how about to scotch with a stranger?”

  “It’s whiskey.”

  She dropped her gaze and her voice. “Right.” Bringing the glass to her lips, she tentatively took a sip. Her face scrunched up, and she put the glass down. “Yeah, so, that’s why I don’t drink. I mean, I’ve tried it.” She half laughed. “Believe me, in my line of work, I’ve tried all kinds of alcohol. But nope, not for me. Not this girl. I’m just not cut out for the finer things in life I guess. Cheap date and all that.” Her hand flew to her mouth as she looked up at me. “Oh! Not that I was implying this was a date or anything remotely close to it. I mean, I get it. You….” Her gaze dropped to my chest, and she waved her hand. “I mean, you, you can—” She blew out a breath. “Yeah. Not a date. Not with me.” She shook her head, and a sad smile touched her full lips. “Not with me,” she repeated.

  Christ. “What do you drink?”

  Her head cocked, but her body stilled. “What?”

  “Drink?”

  “Oh. My favorite drink?” She blushed. “It’s lemonade.”

  Lemonade.

  I’d killed a man earlier that night in defense of her boss, and she wanted lemonade.

  HIS HAND LANDED ON MY nape, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “Let’s go.” His deep voice, more quiet than baritone, was one hundred percent commanding as he pushed the glass in front of me away and ushered me off my stool—a stool he’d told me to sit on.

  “Go where?” I managed, but not without a shiver.

  “To eat.”

  “I… um….” Okay, wow. I did not see that coming. “It’s three o’clock in the morning.” I only pointed out the obvious because I couldn’t go out to eat with him. I couldn’t even handle having his hand on me. My whole body felt like pins and needles from a single touch.

  “This is Miami,” he clipped.

  I knew where we were. I’d lived here most of my life. I wasn’t saying there weren’t places open to eat, there were lots, and they’d be busy after the clubs closed—not that I knew firsthand, but I’d driven home late plenty of times. I saw all the pretty women in their skimpy outfits with their beautiful bodies, and I wasn’t that. I didn’t fit in with that kind of crowd.

  But Mr. Bodyguard definitely did.

  Well over six feet, full of muscles, and unlike most guys you saw around Miami Beach, he had almost white-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. In fact, he looked so much like another blond-haired man I frequently saw in the local media that I’d had my suspicions about who he might be related to since I’d first met him yesterday. But I hadn’t had a single free moment in the past twenty-four hours to check my hunch with an internet search. Not that it mattered who he was, because I didn’t have a chance with someone like him. Staring up at his perfect jaw and the almost angry expression he’d worn since I’d met him only drove that point home.

  I had no business sharing a meal with him. “I can’t go out to eat with you.”

  He paused, and his intense stare cut to me. “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Does it matter?” I hedged, fighting another shiver as the warmth of his touch spread from my neck to my shoulders. I stupidly wondered what it would feel like if he dropped his hand. The deep V down the back of my dress showed more skin than I normally did, but this party tonight had called for a special dress.

  My client’s party was at her palatial estate, and while it wasn’t specifically a black-tie affair like some of the parties I’d organized for other clients, everyone had come dressed to impress. Including the blond bodyguard next to me, who was in a perfectly cut suit that fit his narrow hips and bulging biceps.

  I was glad I’d found my dress on the clearance rack last week. It was just edgy and unique enough with an uneven hem and conservative cut in front, but sexy dipping V in back, that I’d bought it immediately. It’d been a little tight, and it’d cut into my funds way more than I was comfortable with, but I thought I’d pulled it off. More than half a dozen people tonight inquired about my services, so I was calling it a win.

  Except right now I didn’t feel like a winner with a giant, muscled ex-Marine bodyguard staring down at me like he was dissecting me. And he was an ex-Marine. That had been the only bit of personal information I’d been able to get out of him when he’d relented and answered one of the hundred questions I must’ve thrown at him over the past few hours.

  I couldn’t help it.

  He made me nervous, and when I got nervous, I rambled.

  A lot.

  “You need to eat,” he stated. “You missed dinner.”

  “I….” I stopped. “How do you know I missed dinner?”

  “You were working.”

  “So were you.” I liked it far too much that he noticed anything about me, even if it was something small and silly like that I’d been too busy making sure the party went smoothly to help myself to any of the delicious-looking hors d’oeuvres

  “I’m fine,” he countered with no intonation in his voice.

  “Well, so am I,” I lied. I was starving. “I can stand to miss a few meals.”

  He scowled. “No, you can’t.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

  His frown deepened. “I wasn’t joking.”

  “I know. That’s what’s so funny.” I was sure he didn’t date women like me with full hips and non-athletic bodies.

  His scowl turned up another notch, and his hand landed on the back of my neck again, but he dropped the missing meals comment. “Let’s go. I’m driving.”

  Reaching for my phone and tablet on the bar, I hated myself for the next words that came out of my mouth. “Thanks for the offer, but its fine, really. I’m good. I’ll grab something at home after I finish cleaning up here. I don’t like to leave a client to deal with a mess after an event. It’s unprofessional. So really, I’m good here. You can leave.” I turned and reached for a few of the bottles of liquor to carry them inside and braced myself for another of his bossy comebacks.

  But i
t didn’t happen.

  Nothing happened.

  There was only silence.

  Like total, utter, I didn’t even hear the water on the intracoastal slapping against the seawall silence.

  He’d left.

  He had to have.

  No one was that quiet.

  Exhaling, not sure if I was disappointed or glad, I tucked my phone and tablet against my chest, then grabbed two more bottles. Turning, I almost dropped all five bottles in shock.

  Arms crossed, not two feet in front of me, he stood staring. Hard. “Are you involved with someone?”

  My heart slammed into my chest, my mouth went dry, and my phone decided to slip from between my breasts.

  Before it slammed onto the travertine-tiled lanai, he grabbed it, and the back of his fingers brushed across my stomach. My mouth popped open with an involuntary gasp as heat rushed between my legs.

  Holding my phone in one hand, he grasped three of the bottles by their necks in his other hand. “I asked you a question.”

  Involved. I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my mouth and squeaked out an answer. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

  He set the bottles on the bar and grabbed the remaining two from me only to put them down next to the others. “Then why do you object to eating a meal with me?”

  “This isn’t a date,” I blurted, suddenly feeling naked without my bottle armor.

  He didn’t hesitate with a clipped response. “If I were asking you on a date, you would know it.”

  My pride took a hit, and I dropped my gaze. “Of course.” Jeez, how humiliating.

  “Grab what you need,” he stated in the same bossy, emotionless tone.

  “Okay, wait.” I held a hand up. I’d been on my feet over twelve hours. I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, and I was sure I smelled less than fresh. I didn’t need any more humiliation in my life. I didn’t want to sit across from him at some restaurant and inhale food, or worse, pretend I lived on salad without dressing. I wasn’t going to dinner with him. I wasn’t going anywhere with him, no matter how scarily hot he was. Inhaling, I steeled my resolve. “Mr. Sawyer, as I’m sure you can appreciate, I’m pretty tired. Thanks for the offer, but I am respectfully declining your invita—”