The Object of His Protection. Brenda Jackson

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      “So what would you like to do tonight, Charlene?”

      She didn’t fail to note Drey had said her name with just the right amount of sugar-coating to spike her hormone level up a notch, and couldn’t help wondering if it was deliberate. A man with as much skill and experience with women as he possessed had to know when he’d hit the jackpot.

      She decided to call his bluff to see just how far he would take this and if he was trying to break down her defenses. “I don’t know, Drey. What do you have in mind?” she asked in a voice so soft and seductive it didn’t sound like her own.

      She watched his eyes darken a little and saw the smooth smile that formed on his lips. “Something that might get the both of us in trouble. But I’m willing to take the chance.”

      BRENDA JACKSON

      is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen. Because she’s always believed in the power of love, Brenda’s stories always have happy endings. In her real-life love story, Brenda and her husband of thirty-seven years live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons.

      A New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author, Brenda divides her time between family and writing. She is retired from her thirty-seven year career in management at a major insurance company. You may write Brenda at P.O. Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226, e-mail her at [email protected] or visit her Web site at www.brendajackson.net.

      The Object of His Protection

      Brenda Jackson

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.

       He catches the wise in their craftiness, and

       the schemes of the wily are swept away.

      Job 5:13 NIV

      Special thanks and acknoledgment to Brenda Streater Jackson for her contribution to the Braddocks: Secret Son miniseries.

      Dear Reader,

      I enjoy writing continuities since they give me the opportunity to work with other authors. I also like writing books in which there is a puzzle to solve, along with penning a love story that centers on family secrets, skyrocketing passion and endless love.

      In my story, Drey is a man with secrets. He is also a man who has an ingrained desire to protect, and he finds himself protecting Charlene Anderson. Charlene is equally determined to prove to Drey that she does not need his protection. Drey has a puzzle to solve, which weaves itself into a murder mystery that I hope you enjoy.

      I love writing romance stories in which the hero and heroine are pitted against each other, but in the end, the mystery is solved and true love prevails.

      I hope you enjoy Drey and Charlene’s story and their journey to finding everlasting love.

      Brenda Jackson

      Contents

      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

      Epilogue

      Chapter 1

      “I might as well come in since it doesn’t appear that you’re busy.”

      Charlene Anderson didn’t need to look up to know who the deep, husky voice belonged to.

      Drey St. John.

      She did, however, glance over at the small heart-shaped ceramic clock sitting on her desk, the only part of her work area that wasn’t buried under paperwork. Drey was early although his visit wasn’t unexpected. He was a private investigator and she was a forensic scientist in Houston’s coroner’s office. It wasn’t unusual for him to drop by occasionally to harass her for forensic information that would help with the investigation of his current case.

      “If you think I’m not busy, St. John, look again,” she said, not taking her eyes off the document she was reading. “Now get lost.”

      She knew he wouldn’t go away. He never did. That didn’t bother her since she had a weak spot for the rebel private investigator and actually looked forward to seeing him, although she would never admit such a thing to him. His visits were the only high point in her rather dull life. At twenty-seven, she was focused on work, and no matter how you looked at it, dead bodies didn’t equate to great dates. Her social life was practically nonexistent, and of all things, she was still a virgin.

      While attending Oklahoma State University, she had been too busy making the grades to get involved with anyone and had figured things would change once she finished school and got her career off the ground. She had been convinced, since she looked decent enough, that she would eventually meet some nice guy and get serious. That never happened. For her it always seemed to be all work and no play.

      “Don’t you ever get tired of messing around with the dead?”

      She glanced up. Speaking of dead…Drey was drop-dead gorgeous. Definitely a living-breathing specimen of a sexy male. Tall, dark and ultrahandsome. There was no doubt about the fact that at thirty-three he was every woman’s fantasy.

      He had skin the color of creamy rich chocolate, and had dark hair and slanted dark eyes. All she knew about him was the tidbit she’d overhead from a group of women discussing him one day at lunch. According to them, his mother was half Chinese. If that was the case, she had passed a strikingly exotic look on to her son. Charlene had also heard that his middle name of Longwei meant “dragon strength” in Chinese. The name suited him because of his well-defined muscular physique.

      “Not really,” she finally said, taking her eyes off him and attempting to return her focus to the document in front of her. “At least I don’t have to worry about the dead giving me a hard time.”

      “Yeah, I would imagine they wouldn’t.”

      She didn’t have to glance up to know he was no longer standing in the doorway but had come into her office. Her heart began beating twice as fast. The man had a way of getting to her. In addition to her erratic heartbeat, there was this unexplainable flush of heat that always overtook her whenever he was near, not to mention the way the air surrounding them always felt charged. He apparently didn’t pick up on such vibes, nor did he notice she did. He was too busy trying to pump her for information.

      When he halted before her desk, blocking her sunlight, she decided to glance up, but took a deep breath before doing so. “And what got you out of bed so early this morning?” she asked, and immediately she wished she hadn’t when a vision of him getting out of bed—half naked—filtered through her mind. It was a nice vision but dangerous ground for her mind to tread on.

      “I need your help with something.”

      She rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”

      “You’re the best there is,” he said, smiling. She wished he wouldn’t do that. He was sexy enough without the megawatt smile.

      “Flattery will get you nowhere, Drey.”