By: Bonnie Vanak
Series: SOS Agency
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 24, 2023
Publisher: Harlequin Romantic Suspense
To find her attacker
…he must stay in the shadows.
Assigned to protect sea turtle biologist Peyton Bradley from a dangerous stalker, former SEAL Gray Wallace is determined to save his headstrong charge—even if she doesn’t want to be saved. Their attraction is powerful. But damning rumors around the handsome bodyguard’s past get him fired. Only when Peyton is kidnapped and loses her memory does Gray reveal his startling—possibly deadly—secret.
From Harlequin Romantic Suspense: Danger. Passion. Drama.
I’m 32 and I work as a senior security consultant for SOS Executive Protection Services. The job is temporary, as my good friend Jarrett Adler asked me to be Peyton Bradley’s executive protection agent. Peyton is being threatened by a stalker. Unfortunately, I have experience in dealing with nutcases who stalk women.
Do you have any weaknesses or bad habits?
I have a bad temper that erupts when faced with people I care about getting hurt. I try to control it.
Tell us about a defining moment in your life.
Becoming a Navy SEAL was a highlight of my life. It was a struggle to get through BUDS/Seal Training. Basic Underwater Demolition is seven grueling months of challenging training to develop mental, and physical stamina and many men drop out. I didn’t.
What’s your favorite beverage? Favorite food?
I enjoy a cold beer when fishing on my boat with my friends, wine when I dining with Peyton, the woman I’m charged with protecting as her bodyguard. I also cook a terrific risotto.
Do you have a favorite item of clothing?
Not really. I usually wear suits while on the job to maintain an air of professionalism. Peyton teases me because she says I have too much starch in my shorts, but I tease her back and tell her I like to go commando and that makes her blush. Ha.
What’s your most prized possession?
My sidearm, because it has saved my life and others.
What do you drive?
I drive a Mercedes. The interior windows have a coat of polycarbonate to prevent passengers from glass splinters in case the windows receive gunfire. It can take explosions on the bottom or the sides—it is specially protected to guard against those. It’s bulletproof, even against an AK-47.
How about your favorite music?
Classical music. It soothes me. But I’m flexible and enjoy modern music as well.
Is there anything in your past you’d like to forget?
The day I lost my temper with a lethal result.
What are the last five purchases you’ve made with your debit or credit card?
- Ammo
- New suit
- Wine
- Tracking equipment to keep tabs on Peyton in case she gets kidnapped
- New dive tank
Chex cereal. Scallops if they’re fresh, or grouper. Kale. Beer, because I’m going fishing. Snack food. Chocolate, because Peyton loves chocolate. Salsa. Coffee. More coffee. More coffee, can never have enough!
Do you run from or embrace conflict?
Embrace. I’m a former Navy SEAL and I don’t run.
Who are the most important people in your life?
My parents, family, and Peyton is fast becoming a VIP. Much as I don’t want to, I’m falling in love with her. She’s strong, courageous and I admire her dedication to saving sea turtles.
Thanks for spending some time with us, Gray. Anything you want to add?
If you find yourself in a precarious situation with a man, remember – you have the power to say NO. And don’t be afraid to tell your friends and family that someone is threatening you. Trust your gut. It can save you.
A cool ocean breeze caressed her cheeks as she slipped outside. The familiar scent of brine and tangy salt filled her senses. Inside, she was the dutiful hostess, a smile affixed to her mouth, always aware of proper social etiquette. Here, she was free as the beautiful sea turtles swimming in the buoyant ocean.
This was her true calling. Her home.
Following close behind, Adam and the intern kept quiet as they made their way down the stone pathway leading to the beach. Peyton unlocked the gate and held it open for them, and stood at the top of the wooden stairs leading down to the sand. This stretch of sand was wider and had not suffered the erosion of beaches farther to the north and south. In addition, it was closed to all but members, who seldom frequented the beach at night.
For sea turtles, that made for prime nesting.
“You both go down and watch from a safe vantage point where she won’t see you, closer to the dune,” she whispered. “I’ll be right down.”
She removed her red satin heels, wishing she could remove the heavy satin gown as well. As her hand rested on the railing, and she was about to descend, strong fingers laced around her arm.
Peyton bit back a shriek.
“Where the hell are you going and why didn’t you tell me?” he said in a deep voice.
Her bodyguard. She relaxed.
“Sea turtle nesting,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to send out a bulletin and have half the guests stumbling down here, scaring her off.”
“I am not half the guests.” He released her, withdrew his pistol. “I’m your protection and anyone can be out here, Peyton.”
He handed her a flashlight. Annoyed, she glanced at him. “No flashlights on the beach. You’ll confuse her.”
Gray’s fingers brushed hers, the contact brief but electrifying. He flipped a switch and the flashlight turned red. Peyton blinked. The man knew about turtles and how white light confused them in their nesting. Or he had researched what was necessary.
“We’ll go together,” he told her.
Glancing at the gun in his hand, she shook her head. “Is that necessary? I doubt the sea turtle is going to hurt me, Gray.”
“It’s not the sea turtle concerning me.”
Knowing he had the upper hand, she sighed and descended the stairs with him. The sand was soft and warm beneath her bare feet as they skirted a clump of trees and walked closer to the shoreline. Spotting the loggerhead sea turtle lumbering onshore, Peyton hung back, as Adam and Roger remained a distance away, watching.
Gray holstered his gun. Together they watched the turtle digging in the soft sand. Peyton sighed with wonder.
“Look at her. She’s amazing. All that effort to dig a nest, guided by years of instinct. I wish my mother understood my passion for saving sea turtles. But she’s a renowned cardiac surgeon who saves lives with her skills.”
“Don’t underestimate the importance of your work, Peyton. You save lives as well, the lives of turtles, and in doing so, you’re helping to preserve them for future generations,” Gray pointed out.
Never had she quite thought about her career that way. It made her smile.
Peyton quietly watched the turtle dig her nest. “It’s moments like this that I find meaningful. Ever since Shelly died, I’ve come to appreciate life’s little treasures, the gifts I’ve been given. Oh, not my family’s money. I know lots of people would envy me for the financial freedom they think I have. Moments like this that can’t be bought or bartered. What you said to me at the jetty, Gray, you’re so right. Every day we are above ground is a gift and we have to learn to take moments like this and cherish them while we have them.”
“Nature gives us a rare gift in moments like this,” he murmured. “The power of nature always amazed me.”
She glanced at him. “Like a gorgeous sunset after a catastrophic hurricane at the beach.”
The turtle finished digging a deep hole. Then she began to deposit into the hole soft, leathery eggs the size of ping-pong balls.
“She’s crying,” Gray whispered, sounding amazed. “Is she in pain?”
Offering a wry grin, she shook her head. “It’s a turtle’s way of ridding her body of excess salt. That and the tears help flush sand from her eyes.”
He reached over and wiped a tear from her own cheek. “You’re crying as well.”
Stricken he’d caught her with her guard down, Peyton tried to reel in all her tumbling emotions. “This is what’s most important, Gray. Trying to save a species. Everything else is window dressing. I’ve been given a gift to understand science and sea turtles. It’s my passion, not balls and teas and parties. Why can’t my family support me?”
“Give them a chance. Talk to them. They may be more supportive if you communicate your needs more effectively with them.”
This was her true calling. Her home.
Following close behind, Adam and the intern kept quiet as they made their way down the stone pathway leading to the beach. Peyton unlocked the gate and held it open for them, and stood at the top of the wooden stairs leading down to the sand. This stretch of sand was wider and had not suffered the erosion of beaches farther to the north and south. In addition, it was closed to all but members, who seldom frequented the beach at night.
For sea turtles, that made for prime nesting.
“You both go down and watch from a safe vantage point where she won’t see you, closer to the dune,” she whispered. “I’ll be right down.”
She removed her red satin heels, wishing she could remove the heavy satin gown as well. As her hand rested on the railing, and she was about to descend, strong fingers laced around her arm.
Peyton bit back a shriek.
“Where the hell are you going and why didn’t you tell me?” he said in a deep voice.
Her bodyguard. She relaxed.
“Sea turtle nesting,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to send out a bulletin and have half the guests stumbling down here, scaring her off.”
“I am not half the guests.” He released her, withdrew his pistol. “I’m your protection and anyone can be out here, Peyton.”
He handed her a flashlight. Annoyed, she glanced at him. “No flashlights on the beach. You’ll confuse her.”
Gray’s fingers brushed hers, the contact brief but electrifying. He flipped a switch and the flashlight turned red. Peyton blinked. The man knew about turtles and how white light confused them in their nesting. Or he had researched what was necessary.
“We’ll go together,” he told her.
Glancing at the gun in his hand, she shook her head. “Is that necessary? I doubt the sea turtle is going to hurt me, Gray.”
“It’s not the sea turtle concerning me.”
Knowing he had the upper hand, she sighed and descended the stairs with him. The sand was soft and warm beneath her bare feet as they skirted a clump of trees and walked closer to the shoreline. Spotting the loggerhead sea turtle lumbering onshore, Peyton hung back, as Adam and Roger remained a distance away, watching.
Gray holstered his gun. Together they watched the turtle digging in the soft sand. Peyton sighed with wonder.
“Look at her. She’s amazing. All that effort to dig a nest, guided by years of instinct. I wish my mother understood my passion for saving sea turtles. But she’s a renowned cardiac surgeon who saves lives with her skills.”
“Don’t underestimate the importance of your work, Peyton. You save lives as well, the lives of turtles, and in doing so, you’re helping to preserve them for future generations,” Gray pointed out.
Never had she quite thought about her career that way. It made her smile.
Peyton quietly watched the turtle dig her nest. “It’s moments like this that I find meaningful. Ever since Shelly died, I’ve come to appreciate life’s little treasures, the gifts I’ve been given. Oh, not my family’s money. I know lots of people would envy me for the financial freedom they think I have. Moments like this that can’t be bought or bartered. What you said to me at the jetty, Gray, you’re so right. Every day we are above ground is a gift and we have to learn to take moments like this and cherish them while we have them.”
“Nature gives us a rare gift in moments like this,” he murmured. “The power of nature always amazed me.”
She glanced at him. “Like a gorgeous sunset after a catastrophic hurricane at the beach.”
The turtle finished digging a deep hole. Then she began to deposit into the hole soft, leathery eggs the size of ping-pong balls.
“She’s crying,” Gray whispered, sounding amazed. “Is she in pain?”
Offering a wry grin, she shook her head. “It’s a turtle’s way of ridding her body of excess salt. That and the tears help flush sand from her eyes.”
He reached over and wiped a tear from her own cheek. “You’re crying as well.”
Stricken he’d caught her with her guard down, Peyton tried to reel in all her tumbling emotions. “This is what’s most important, Gray. Trying to save a species. Everything else is window dressing. I’ve been given a gift to understand science and sea turtles. It’s my passion, not balls and teas and parties. Why can’t my family support me?”
“Give them a chance. Talk to them. They may be more supportive if you communicate your needs more effectively with them.”
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Bonnie Vanak is a multi-published author of paranormal and historical romance novels. After a career in journalism, she became a writer for an international charity, traveling to poor countries like Haiti to write about issues affecting the poor. When the strain of her job demanded a diversion, she turned to her childhood dream of writing books. Bonnie lives in Florida with her husband and rescue dogs.
Places to find Bonnie Vanak:
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Thanks for having me! I really enjoyed writing Her Secret Protector. It is a book of my heart!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome. Thank you so much for stopping by and for the interview. I'm definitely going to have to add this to my reading list.
DeleteThanks for the info and the chance to win.
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