Bodyguard

Book 0: BookShots Flames

by Jessica Linden, James Patterson

Genres: Action & Adventure Romance; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

James Patterson's BookShots. Short, fast-paced, high-impact entertainment.

The Most Eligible Bachelor on Capitol Hill has met his match.

Abbie Whitmore is good at her job. She knows how to protect people, and she's always right — until Congressman Jonathan Lassiter comes along. The presidential hopeful refuses to believe that his politics have put him in danger, yet Abbie's determined to keep him safe. But how can she protect him while she's guarding her heart?

A Random House UK audio production.

Release date: November 1, 2016

Publisher: Little, Brown and Company

Print pages: 144

Sample

Chapter 1

Abbie Whitmore stood at the back of the crowd at the steps of the town hall, easily blending in with the mass of people also dressed in somber dark suits. She wasn’t scheduled to arrive until later that evening, but she preferred doing recon in person, instead of just reading a case file.

This was an eye-opening experience. Though she lived outside of DC, she didn’t pay attention to politics. It was all a sham. Though politicians had some margin of power, she knew there were other players who pulled the strings in Washington.

She zoned in on the charismatic man on the podium. The pairing of his suit and tie was impeccable, and no doubt the work of a professional. His dark hair was styled in such a way that it didn’t look like anything had been done to it at all. It matched well with his five-o’clock shadow.

Men and women of all ages cheered after nearly every sentence he spoke, pressing forward to try to get closer to him, as if proximity would cause some of his charm and charisma to rub off on them.

The Beloved Bachelor of Capitol Hill…that was what the society pages had called him—a completely cumbersome title, but if the shoe fit…However, his bachelor status wasn’t why she was here. She was here because he was too golden for his own good.

And someone was going to kill him for it.

“Just remember”—he stopped to flash a blindingly brilliant smile—“I hear you and I am here for you.”

The crowd erupted, shaking signs, hooting, and hollering. If she didn’t know better, Abbie would think she was at a Justin Bieber concert.

Lord help her.

Jonathan Lassiter gave one last wave, then exited the stage using the rickety wooden stairs that had been erected on the left.

That was her cue.

She ducked her head down and strode through the throngs of people, heading in the direction of the parked car waiting to whisk the politician away. Even though she flanked his team, swinging wide to avoid detection, she still beat him there. He was too busy posing for selfies.

Wonder if he’ll have to sign anyone’s breasts. Abbie almost snorted.

Once at the far side of the car, she reached into her purse to pull out a thin metal wire. On a whim she tried the door handle first, shaking her head when it was unlocked.

Amateurs. It’s a wonder he hasn’t been killed already.

She slid into the backseat of the car, and no one was the wiser.

She didn’t have to wait long.

The driver opened the door, and with one final wave Jonathan Lassiter took his seat across from her.

In one swift move Abbie extended her leg and lodged the base of her shoe on his Adam’s apple, the toe and the heel of the shoe straddling his neck. Game over.

“If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

Jonathan blinked, and swallowed with some difficulty. Though she had to hand it to him—he kept his cool. “Do you mind removing your Louboutin from my jugular?”

Abbie’s response was to apply more pressure and narrow her eyes at him.

Then, slowly, she lowered her leg.

Chapter 2

“You might not want to be so blasé about your safety.”

Jonathan adjusted his tie and studied the woman sitting across from him. At first glance, she appeared sweet and vulnerable, like she was one of those women who followed the trend of too-thin supermodels. His instincts also told him that there was more to her than her looks.

He’d felt the muscles in her long leg firsthand when her red-soled stiletto was rammed under his chin. Frail was not the word for her.

Lithe. That’s what she was. This wasn’t a woman who dieted to keep her trim figure.

Her copper hair was pulled tight at the nape of her neck, making her cheekbones appear even more severe and angular. The creamy skin on her face showed no signs of freckles, and her makeup was barely there. She was a natural beauty.

And her eyes were so goddamn cold and calculating she’d rival any supermodel on the runway. He would know. He’d dated a few of them.

The car pulled away from the sidewalk, his driver unaware that anything unusual was happening in the backseat.

Jonathan adjusted his cuff links. “You weren’t due to arrive until this evening.”

“Change of plans.”

“If you had done me the courtesy of contacting my people, I could have arranged to set up a proper first meeting.” He smiled at her. “You wouldn’t have had to break into my car.”

“I didn’t,” she said smartly. “It was unlocked. You take your safety seriously for granted, Mr. Lassiter.”

“I’m a man of the people,” he replied. “I like to be available to my constituents. After all, they’re the reason I’m here.”

“Perhaps they’ll enjoy attending your funeral as well.”

He chuckled. “I doubt that.”

She reached into her bag, pulled out a thick file folder, and slapped it on his lap. “Copies of phone transcriptions and intercepted e-mails. All threats against you.”

He leafed through the papers, but they weren’t anything he hadn’t seen before. His team back in the capital had showed him similar documents last week, before he’d set out on the campaign trail. It had taken a call from the White House for him to accept personal security above and beyond what he felt was reasonable and needed.

The woman sitting across from him was the last thing he’d expected.

“I meant I doubt these threats will amount to anything.”

“Regardless, they shouldn’t be ignored.”

Jonathan closed the file and handed it back to her. “You never introduced yourself, Miss…?”

“Abbie Whitmore.” She didn’t bother to hold out her hand but instead scrutinized him with her cold eyes.

“Miss Whitmore, I’m afraid your presence here is an overreaction on the part of my well-meaning associates. If special protection were assigned to politicians every time a threat was made against them, well…” He trailed off and chuckled. Then he unbuttoned his suit coat, making himself comfortable.

Her nostrils flared slightly. “You may not take the threats against your life seriously, but I take my job very seriously. So I plan to have the pleasure of keeping you alive for the foreseeable future.”

He met her hard stare with one of his own, one that made lesser individuals stand down. She held her ground.

“Fine,” he said tightly. He knew when to cut his losses. Besides, it wouldn’t be much of a hardship to have this gorgeous woman following him around for the next few weeks.

“The plan is to introduce me to your staff as a new aide who you’ll be working very closely with. I don’t want them to know my real purpose for being here.”

He frowned. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“No. What’s extreme is what might be done if Hak Tanir gets to you. The last guy who crossed them was disemboweled, before taking two slugs between the eyes at point-blank range. His own mother couldn’t recognize what was left of him.”

She flashed a picture on her cell phone to reiterate her point. The blood drained from his face, and much to his disconcertment, she gave a little nod of satisfaction, putting her phone away.

“The legislation you spearheaded allowed the US government to make large strides in stopping Hak Tanir and several of the human-trafficking rings they’re responsible for. As a result, you now have some dangerous enemies in some pretty high places.”

“I wasn’t the only one who supported that bill.”

“No, but you were, and are, the spokesman for it.”

He shifted. “They can’t possibly think that killing me will stop us from trying to put an end to terrorism.”

“I doubt they think that. What’s done is done. But now they’re out for vengeance. Or perhaps they want to make an example out of you. Either way, you’re in need of protection beyond the normal . . .