The Bodyguard And The Bridesmaid

The Bodyguard And The Bridesmaid
Metsy Hingle

Right Bride, WRONG GROOM UNDERCOVER… Protecting people was Ryan Fitzpatrick's business - but being Clea Mason's bodyguard was going to be pure pleasure. After all, ever since he'd first laid eyes on the cool, classy business executive, he hadn't been able to think about anything except her body… .AND - IF RYAN FITZPATRICK GETS HIS WAY - UNDER THE COVERS, TOO… Of course, she didn't think she needed protection. But he knew better, and pretending he was her husband was the only way to keep her safe. And if that meant getting up close and personal with the lady, well… it was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it… .RIGHT BRIDE, WRONG GROOM:Marrying Mr. Almost-Right is all wrong, especially when the perfect man is ready to sweep you into his arms.

“I Don’t Care What Anyone Says, I Don’t Want You Protecting Me,” (#u20731bc6-81a0-51b5-89ee-67633e213d57)Letter to Reader (#u1986e642-190a-5a15-a58d-36533715bd40)Title Page (#u41fc0ad4-a57d-578c-bd87-6d78d4bb663c)About the Author (#ud23114e6-598a-52ac-b75f-22685b9bde29)Dedication (#ufaee2a06-d30e-5be0-848c-85673db86423)Prologue (#u46908135-6afd-55f0-99ff-894fe7204a38)Chapter One (#u3bfc4ea7-ae69-543d-8c26-dfebbd33f6e6)Chapter Two (#u0401772a-c800-52ca-bfcc-e183e68358a9)Chapter Three (#ube0f0b55-b95e-5cc2-b60e-16b8e500f195)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“I Don’t Care What Anyone Says, I Don’t Want You Protecting Me,”

said Clea.

“You sure about that?” Ryan asked.

“Positive,” she tossed back. It was bad enough the man made her hormones act up. The last thing she needed was to have him trailing her back to her apartment, sticking himself into her life.

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s too bad. Your not wanting me, I mean. It would have made us being roommates a lot more interesting.”

“Roommates?” she repeated. “What are you talking about? We’re not going to be roommates.”

“Sure we are. Because from now on, Duchess, wherever you go, I go. That’s what a bodyguard does.”

Dear Reader,

MEN! This month Silhouette Desire goes man-crazy with six of the sexiest, heart-stopping hunks ever to come alive on the pages of a romance novel.

Meet May’s MAN OF THE MONTH, love-wary secret agent Daniel Lawless, in The Passionate G-Man, the first book in Dixie Browning’s fabulous new miniseries, THE LAWLESS HEIRS. Metsy Hingle’s gallant hero protects an independent lady in danger in the last book of the RIGHT BRIDE, WRONG GROOM series, The Bodyguard and the Bridesmaid. Little bitty Joeville, Montana, has more tall, dark and rugged ranchers than any other town west of the Mississippi And Josh Malone has more sex appeal than all of ’em put together in Last of the Joeville Lovers, the third book in Anne Eames’s MONTANA MALONES senes.

In The Notorious Groom, Caroline Cross pairs the baddest boy ever to roam the streets of Kisscount with the town virgin in a steamy marriage of convenience. The hero of Barbara McCauley’s Seduction of the Reluctant Bride is one purebred Texas cowboy fixin’ to do some wife-wranglin’—this new groom isn’t about to miss a sultry second of his very own wedding night. Yeehaw! Next, when a suddenly wealthy beauty meets the owner of the ranch next door, he’s wearing nothing but a Stetson and a smile in Carol Grace’s The Heiress Inherits a Cowboy.

Silhouette Desire brings you the kind of irresistible men who make your knees buckle, your stomach flutter, your heart melt...and your fingers turn the page. So enjoy our lineup of spectacular May men!

Regard,

Senior Editor

Silhouette Books

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.. 3010 Walden Ave., PO. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian. P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3

The Bodyguard and the Bridesmaid

Metsy Hingle

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

METSY HINGLE

is a native of New Orleans who loves the city in which she grew up. She credits the charm of her birthplace, and her own French heritage, with instilling in her the desire to write. Married and the mother of four children, she believes in romance and happy endings. Becoming a Silhouette author is a long-cherished dream come true for Metsy and one happy ending that she continues to celebrate with each new story she writes. She loves hearing from readers. Write to Metsy at P.O. Box 3224, Covington, LA 70433.

To Sandra and Michael Brown.

Two very special people, two very special friends.

Prologue

She hated weddings, Clea Mason decided, scowling at the bridal bouquet of white roses and lilies that had managed to land in her hands. Silently she cursed Ryan Fitzpatrick. If he hadn’t distracted her, she never would have caught the blasted bouquet.

“Oh, Clea, you’re going to be the next bride!”

“Not if I can help it,” Clea muttered to her newly-married assistant, Gayle. There was no way she intended to get married—ever.

“You’ll change your mind when you meet the right man. Just like I did when I met my Larry,” the other woman replied dreamily before being ushered off for the garter toss.

Relieved to relinquish the spotlight, Clea glanced at her watch and frowned. Just how long does the maid of honor need to remain at these things? Recalling her two sisters’ weddings, she nearly groaned. If memory served her correctly, she’d have to stay at least until the newlyweds left, and they didn’t look like they would be going anytime soon.

Resigned to being stuck a while longer, Clea studied the guests who had turned out for the wedding of her assistant at Destinations. Most were employees of the travel agency, Clea noted. Not surprising, since the bride and groom had no family in Chicago and the agency’s owners had insisted on hosting the reception. Clea paused as her gaze fixed on Ryan Fitzpatrick.

Even huddled with the tuxedo-clad groomsmen, he stood out, and not simply because of his height. The man was flat-out gorgeous, Clea admitted. With his sharp-edged features, deep blue eyes and wicked grin, he reminded her of a fallen angel. His dark hair brushed the collar of his shirt in a way that made a woman itch to run her fingers through the wayward curls, she thought, and tightened her fingers around the stem of the bouquet. As though sensing her scrutiny, Ryan looked up and flashed her that lady-killer smile.

Her traitorous pulse jumped. Blast the man, she thought. Turning away quickly, she barreled right into Sean Fritzpatrick. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking a step back to steady herself.

“I’m not. You can run into my arms anytime,” Sean informed her with a grin. He shifted his gaze to the flowers in her hands. “I was going to ask you to dance. But what do you say we just skip the dancing part and get married instead?”

“Ignore him,” Michael Fitzpatrick said, shouldering his younger brother aside before she could even catch her breath. “Marry me. I’m a much better catch.”

Clea laughed at their outrageous proposals, the tension inside her evaporating. Amused, she relaxed as the brothers bickered over which of them she should marry. Nephews of the owners of Destinations, the pair were familiar faces at the agency she managed and the source of more than a few fantasies among her female staff. Given their good looks and reputations with the fairer sex, Clea was grateful she’d never been tempted to engage in anything more than friendship with either man. Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about their brother Ryan. Ryan disturbed her in a way no other man had for a very long time.

“Clea, tell my thick-headed brother here that he’s wasting his time,” Sean insisted.

“You’re both wasting your time,” came Ryan’s deep voice from behind her. “Clea isn’t going to marry either one of you clowns. She’s going to marry me.”

Stunned, Clea whirled around. Her pulse hammered furiously as she stared at him. Mischief sparkled in his eyes as he twirled the bride’s garter on his index finger. A smile played across his lips. “Marry you?” she repeated, her temper spiking at his arrogance. “Why I—”

“Can hardly wait. I know, darling. I feel the same way.” And before she could utter a word of protest, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her.

One

“I want Clea Mason’s case,” Ryan said firmly. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared across the desk at his brother Michael and prepared to do battle.

Michael disengaged the speakerphone, severing the telephone connection with their aunt. He leaned back in his chair. “There is no ‘case,’ little brother.”

Ryan bit back the temper that had been building inside him from the moment his Aunt Maggie had come on the line and told them some nut had been pestering Clea. “I may be the new kid on the block here as far as being a private investigator goes, but as a former cop I can tell you that some pervert sending Clea twisted love letters and calling her on the phone makes for a good case of harassment.”

“Which is what I tried to tell Aunt Maggie,” his brother replied, looking more like a lawyer than a detective in his neat white shirt and tie. “We’re security specialists, Ry, not bodyguards.”