Triple-Duty Bodyguards by Lily Gold EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Lily Gold
- Language: English
- Genre: Military Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
BRIAR
☆
“Now, don’t be dramatic, darling,” my PR manager drawls, examining her
nail beds. “It’s not like the man was trying to kill you.”
I close my eyes, rubbing my temples. It’s just turned four AM, and my head
is still spinning from last night’s rosé. Red and blue lights flash through the
window of my little pink-tiled kitchen, shining in from the police car parked
in my drive. Over my head, I can hear the heavy footsteps and low voices of
the police officers investigating upstairs.
I am tired.
“A stranger climbed the side of my house, broke my bedroom window, and
jerked off in my bed,” I say slowly. “I’m not being dramatic.”
Julie shrugs from her position at the marble breakfast bar, fishing her
compact out of her designer purse. “He didn’t even touch you, babe,” she
mumbles, patting powder over her pert nose. “This hardly seems like a reason
to fire poor Rodriguez.”
My eyes slide to Rodriguez, my home security guard. He refuses to look at
me, shifting uncomfortably in his spot next to Julie. His hair is ruffled, his fly
is undone, and his shirt is unbuttoned. Julie’s red lipstick is all over his neck.
It’s not too difficult to work out how the intruder managed to get past my
gate.
“Yes,” I say flatly. “It is. Rodriguez, do up your trousers and go.”
His eyes widen. “But, ma’am—”
“Don’t ma’am me. You don’t work for me anymore.” I wave at the front
door. “Go.”
He stands, puffing his chest out. “Ma’am, really, that’s not fair—”
“Of course it’s fair,” I snap. “You were too busy shagging my staff to notice
the strange man breaking into my bedroom. I pay you six figures, and you
still can’t get through an eight-hour shift without getting your rocks off.
You’re fired. Now get out of my house, before I call your wife and tell her
why you no longer have a job.”
I turn on my heel and leave the kitchen, ignoring the muttered ‘bitch’ behind
my back.
Right. That’s me. I’m not the one who screwed around on the job and cheated
on my pregnant wife. But as per usual, I’m the bitch.
Of course, most people would agree with him. I’m a well-renowned cow. I
even have titles: you are talking to the proud three-time winner of Goss
magazine’s ‘Biggest Celebrity Diva’ award. A major UK newspaper crowned
me ‘Britain’s Biggest Bitch’ just a couple of weeks ago. I don’t think they’re
actually supposed to be awards, but I’ll take them all the same.
I suppose it is kind of my fault. As I step into the corridor, I catch a glimpse
of myself in the diamond-studded hallway mirror. Highlighted blonde hair.
Veneers. Fake nails. I’m the kind of woman people love to call a bitch.
There’s footsteps on the stairs, and I look up to see a policeman stepping onto
the landing, holding a clear evidence bag.
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