We have less than 11 days until Psycho Romeo is finally released!

That means that Rinda and I are way overdue for an excerpt to this book.

Would you like to get a little glimpse of the first book of the Ward Security series?  Yeah… that’s what I thought.

Enjoy!


“I checked all the rooms before I left,” Geoffrey said.

“But if he has a key, he could have returned while you were gone.” He paused again and looked over his shoulder at Geoffrey. “You will stay behind me until I clear the entire house.”

Geoffrey’s grin returned and he pointedly looked down at Sven’s ass. “That’s not a hardship.”

Sven could feel the blush fill his cheeks as he jerked his head back around to face the door. He wouldn’t allow himself to say anything, not that he could even begin to think of what he could say to something like that. Rowe would have some cheeky remark and probably give a little wiggle of his ass, while Andrei would probably have some appropriately chilling comment that would have put the boundaries firmly back in place. Clenching his teeth, Sven opened the door and led the way through the house with Geoffrey following. Geoffrey only spoke to label each room—guest bedroom, office, master bedroom, media room, Finn’s room, and so on. While his focus was on checking every potential hiding place and window, he noted that the entire house had a free and open feeling to it. The furnishings were mostly whites, tans, and pale grays. There were even more windows at the back of the house, looking out on a courtyard with a swimming pool. And the entire property was surrounded by trees. No way of easily seeing anyone who might be out there watching the house.

“We need to secure the house,” Sven announced as they returned to the living room. He watched Geoffrey flop down on the sofa, his arms resting along the back and his head tilted so he could stare at Sven from under some of his thick blond hair.

“I was going to call a locksmith to install some new locks, but I wanted to wait to see if you had some suggestions.”

“You need more than locks.”

Geoffrey dropped his arms and shifted to the edge of the sofa, his eyes narrowing. “What do you want to do to my house?” he asked softly.

“You need an entire home security system, Mr. Ralse,” Sven said, proud that he managed to remember to use the client’s last name.

“And what does that entail, Mister Larsen?” It sounded like Geoffrey was grinding his last name between his teeth.

“It’s more than locks. You need a home security system on all the doors and windows. You need motion-sensor lights on the front and rear of the house. Considering the threat and the fact that you don’t know who it is, we would be wise to also place a few video cameras on the exterior of the house that can be monitored. We—”

“Are you shitting me?” Geoffrey yelled, launching to his feet. He paced away, moving in front of the large windows and doors that led to the courtyard. Sven flinched, fighting the urge to put his larger frame in front of Geoffrey’s as he moved. “Cameras? Motion-sensor lights? What’s next? An electrified barbed-wire fence? Or maybe a few guard dogs to patrol the grounds? Oh! Wait!” Geoffrey swung back toward Sven and threw his arms up as he spoke. “A fucking moat!”

“Mr. Ralse—”

Geoffrey ignored him, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Let me just call for the backhoe now. We can break ground on the trench before it gets dark. We could even fill it with salt water and get a few sharks to swim in it.”

“Mr. Ralse, I’m only thinking of your protection,” Sven said, keeping his voice low and even.

“Exactly! I’m the fucking victim here whether you or Rowe or the cops want to believe it, but you’re turning me into a goddamn prisoner like it’s my fault.”

“I believe you,” he whispered.

Those three words seemed to stop Geoffrey short. He stood in the middle of the living room, his eyes filled with confusion and surprise as he stared up at Sven. “What?” he said, but Sven couldn’t actually hear him. The word was more of an expulsion of air than sound.

Cursing himself, Sven gave in to the temptation to finally close the distance between them and put his hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder. “I believe you,” he repeated with a little more force. He squeezed, his mind briefly marveling at the feel of strong, tense muscles wrapped around slender, delicate shoulders. He wanted to let his hand linger.

“Why?”

Sven opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t explain why he believed Geoffrey’s story of the stalker and being drugged at the club. He wanted to say that he knew Geoffrey wouldn’t fabricate something like this or something more profound, but he couldn’t.

He didn’t know this man. Not really. He came in a couple of times a week for an hour or two of self-defense training. He flirted and joked, but there was a kindness behind it all. A hidden sweetness that was buried under all the sexual innuendo and bluster. But he couldn’t explain how he knew, at least not so that anyone would understand or believe him. So he kept his mouth shut.


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