“So, Sadie Banes, have you decided whether you’d like to become Sadie Wilson?”
It’s what he wants. But he knows that whether to take his last name is my decision, and I have been on the fence. After all, my last name is the only connection I have to my birth family. While there’s probably no healing that wound, it’s also hard to give up a part of my identity.
“I’d be honored, Dakota,” I whisper. “As long as I can still keep my original last name, too.”
He grins. I’ve pleased him, which pleases me, too. “Of course, Mrs. Banes-Wilson-to-be. Anything for you.” We exchange a long kiss. “Always for you.”
My name will soon be Sadie Banes-Wilson, and I am the luckiest woman in the entire world.
If you enjoyed Sadie’s story, don’t miss the rest of the Confined with the CEO and the Bodyguard Series:
Gabriela - available wherever eBooks are sold
Caitlyn - 3/17/21 - Preorder now
Naomi - 04/19/21 - Preorder now
Keep reading to find short excerpts from these sexy stories.
Acknowledgments
To Jackie Barbosa for friendship, beta reading and honest feedback, my heartfelt thanks. I could not ask for a better writing friend.
Charity Chimni, without your editorial guidance my work would remain a mess of typos. One day, I’ll remember to capitalize “T” in “T-shirt.” But probably no time soon. Your patience and contentiousness is deeply appreciated.
To Selena Blake at Ecila Media, your talents in creating the covers for this series are second to none.
My writing career would not be possible without the patience and forbearance of my husband and children. I am sorry the house is always such a disaster zone (but let’s face it, we know things won’t change now).
Readers - I would not be an author without you. Please take precautions to stay safe and healthy until the current pandemic passes.
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Excerpt: CONFINED WITH THE CEO & THE BODYGUARD: Gabriela
The CEO and the Bodyguard is a luxury erotic romance series. Each story features a CEO, a bodyguard, and the woman who brings them to their knees. If you like insta-lust and high heat, these MFM contemporary romance fantasies will leave you smiling...despite our lockdown reality.
Chapter One : Max
There are worse places to ride out a pandemic. That’s my first thought.
My new assignment is nowhere to be seen. Fifteen minutes ago, I entered a code on the gate and then a second set of numbers to get through the front door. Good security—I spotted cameras peeping out at me along the short drive up to the main house.
Inside, everything is white and gray with blue accents that are the same color as the ocean where I took my ex-wife on our honeymoon. It was fifteen years ago, now, but even though we didn’t last, the bright color makes me happy to see it. All the fixtures are gold. The effect is glamorous and feminine. You can tell immediately that she lives alone. No kids. No husband.
I set my serviceable black duffle bag on the tiled foyer beside a flimsy-looking brass-and-marble console table. On it is a tree hung with masks. Nice touch, I think, as I look around for the owner of the house.
Gabriela Ramirez. I recognize her name. She’s like the Latina Kim Kardashian—runs a makeup company, Gabi Beauty. But that isn’t why I know her. She used to be a model or something.
Although, isn’t that true of everybody in this town? Even though I live in Los Angeles, I don’t really keep up with the celebrity scene. It seems like everyone here is either an actor, an ex-actor, or trying to break into showbiz.
Except me. I’m just dumb old Max, good for punching the shit out of people who deserve it and not much else.
“Hello?” I call. My accented voice bounces off the marble and echoes up a big, curved stairway. In the center of the foyer is a huge crystal light fixture. It is not lit, but it sparkles anyway. I head into the next room, a living room with a large window overlooking the ocean. Wow.
There’s no place to sit down. The furniture is made of bent sticks. I think it’s called wicker. It looks too delicate to hold up the ass of a giant like me. I’m six-foot-three and two hundred pounds. I crush skulls for a living.
Okay, not really. Mostly, security work is boring—
“You must be Max,” a woman’s voice says behind me. I whirl. A decorative gold basket full of glass balls goes flying onto the rug. None break, to my relief. I gather them awkwardly, stick them back on the coffee table, and tug my suit straight as I go to meet my temporary employer, who then says, “Or are you Ari?”
“Max,” I say gruffly. “Ari will be here as soon as his COVID-19 test results come back.”
I look up. My heart stops.
Gabriela is barefoot. She stands at the bottom of a stairway wearing nothing but a silky pink robe over matching pajama pants. Her blond hair is piled casually on top of her head. A couple of tendrils spill out over her shoulders. There’s a half-inch of dark hair at the roots—it’s clearly dyed, but I don’t care. I’m a sucker for brown-eyed blondes, and Ms. Ramirez is gorgeous. Her skin glows like polished amber and her light caramel eyes are lined with deep ocher and heavy mascara.
“Excellent. I am in the middle of a conference call. We’re taking a five-minute break. I’ll show you to your room and you can settle in.” Her mouth might be plump and soft but the words coming out of it are wary and businesslike. It’s at odds with the generous curves of her breasts and hips. “Bring your bag.”
I hoist my belongings and follow her, feeling like a cold black shadow
