Protecting His Brat Read online

  Sorcha Black

  Protecting His Brat

  First published by Belfry Publishing 2021

  Copyright © 2021 by Sorcha Black

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains scenarios that should not be attempted or emulated.

  First edition

  Cover art by Cari Silverwood

  Editing by Nerine Dorman

  Proofreading by Donna Jay

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  Contents

  Also by Sorcha Black

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  About the Author

  Also by Sorcha Black

  Cruel Idols: An Enemies to Lovers MMF Bisexual Romance

  The Sharp Edge of Bliss: An Enemies to Lovers MMF Bisexual Romance

  The Severin Duology

  Feral King: An MFM Bisexual Romance

  Tragic King: An MMF Bisexual Romance

  Valentine: Dark Superhero Romance Boxset

  The Badass Brats Series (with Cari Silverwood and Leia Shaw)

  The Dom with a Safeword

  The Dom on the Naughty List

  The Dom with the Perfect Brats

  The Dom with the Clever Tongue

  The Badass Brats Series (solo works)

  The Dom with the Kink Monsters

  The Dom with the Deviant Kittens

  Ein: A Dark Fantasy MFFM Romance

  Writing as Sparrow Beckett (cowritten with Leia Shaw)

  Masters Unleashed Series

  Finding Master Right

  Playing Hard to Master

  To Have and to Master

  Master in Shining Armor

  All’s Fair in Love and Mastery

  Masters of Adrenaline Series

  Stealing His Thunder

  Fueling His Hunger

  Pushing Her Limits

  Chapter One

  “I’m not a child.”

  The statement was probably about as effective as stomping my foot, throwing myself on the floor, and beating my fists against the hardwood…but what else could I say?

  Mother sighed then placed her pen tidily beside the stack of papers on her antique desk, as though my presence was a waste of her precious time. I knew better than to interrupt her work without being summoned, and yet here I was.

  She looked elegant, as usual, as if she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine even though she was working from home today and no one would see her except the household staff and me. Tall and willowy, with expensive, timeless clothes, and her silvering blond hair pulled into a sleek chignon, Mother was everything I wasn’t—to her chagrin. Having a short, freckled, redheaded daughter with no real fashion sense, was her cross to bear.

  “I know you think my precautions are unnecessary, Aberdeen, but we can’t take the risk.”

  Twenty years was a long time to be paranoid, but she’d been very careful with me ever since the kidnapping. The only memory I had of it was the stories I’d been told.

  How much had Mother’s fear shaped my life? Probably every aspect of it. What I longed for was only a small taste of freedom. Complete freedom felt too…big.

  “I understand that, but there are things I want to do with my life that makes having a bodyguard extremely limiting.”

  “Such as?

  Well…everything.

  Until now, there’d been no sleepovers, no parties, no dates, no underage drinking or adventures. It was too late for those things, but there were other life experiences I didn’t want to miss out on, and having a bodyguard meant having constant supervision. Supervision that reported back to Mother.

  Getting kidnapped as a toddler hadn’t been my fault, but I’d been living with the consequences for most of my life. How many kids went through childhood with a forty-year-old man as a best friend?

  Just me?

  Now my best friend was in his late fifties and would be retiring any day. I’d thought of it as a rite of passage—that the era of overprotection was over. I’d been sadly mistaken.

  “Maybe I’d like to date someone? Get married? Have a family?”

  Mother made a dismissive sound, smoothing her hair as though a strand would dare escape her impeccable coiffure. “I’ll introduce you to someone suitable when the time is right.”

  I could feel my anger rising, but I tamped it back down. She would end this meeting if I raised my voice.

  Slowly, I inhaled, my wandering gaze falling on her office’s security camera. Why she needed one, I had no idea. Its presence always made me self-conscious, like we were on the most boring reality TV show on the planet. Just a bunch of pathetic conversations where I tried to prove I was worthy of her notice, and that I should be allowed to have my own life.

  “When were you thinking of starting a search for my next bodyguard?” Maybe if I had a hand in choosing someone, they wouldn’t feel so much like a babysitter.

  “One has been hired,” Mother said distractedly as she scanned the top page of the stack in front of her. She frowned at it, picked up her pen, and made a note in the margin. “There’s an extra space here,” she said with annoyance. “How can I get anything done if I have to proofread everything myself?”

  “You…hired someone?” This was too much.

  “Yes. Jake is leaving Friday. I couldn’t put off making a decision.”

  “But—I’m twenty-one. Don’t I get a say about who I’m going to spend the next twenty years of my life with?” If another bodyguard was completely necessary, I’d been hoping it would be someone close to my age, and preferably female. Someone I could be friends with—maybe someone who could help me be a little less weird.

  Mother arched a brow then made another note in the margin. “When you have your own money and don’t live under my roof, you’ll get a say. You don’t get to decide who lives in my house.”

  I did my best to swallow the feeling of perpetual helplessness. It wasn’t like being trapped was new, but I was starting to realize Mother was deliberately leaving me no way out. I wasn’t allowed to attend college in person. She wouldn’t let me get a job so I could get an apartment. How was I ever supposed to grow up if Mother wouldn’t let me out of this gilded cage?

  “Quit sulking, Aberdeen. You’re too old for tantrums.” How did she know I was frowning if she hadn’t bothered glancing up? “I’m sure this guard will be acceptable. He’s…practical, and he came with impeccable references.”

  Practical was Mother’s polite word for ugly, whether in relation to people or shoes or hairstyles.

  And it was a man. Damn it. She’d been in Europe for a month on business, so I’d waited to have this discussion in person. Apparentl
y that had been a mistake.

  “When does he start?”

  “He’ll be here in a half-hour to sign the final paperwork.”

  An unruly curl fell into my eyes, and I shoved it back as my usual anxiety ratcheted tighter. “Half an hour? I’m not ready for company.”

  Of course she’d do this when Jake was off for the day and I had no one to complain to. The relief guard, Shawn, was new, and I had the feeling he wouldn’t be staying long.

  “The help isn’t company, Aberdeen, no matter how fond you are of Jake. You don’t need to impress this man.”

  I wanted to argue, but there was no time. I needed to shower and put a few things away if there was going to be a stranger touring the house.

  Panicking, I excused myself and bolted up the stairs, shadowed by Shawn. Leaving him outside the bedroom door, I headed for my bathroom where I made short work of showering and toweling off. Dragging my fingers through the tangled mess of my hair took a bit longer. I chose a pair of slacks and a cashmere sweater that were understated and pretty, and hopefully made me look a little closer to my age than some of the other things I owned.

  Ugh. My room was so…cluttered.

  I stashed my crochet basket under my bed, then attempted to tidy some books. Black Beauty. King Lear. Emma. A few sweet romances, and some literary books Mother had vetted. The pile beside my bed was starting to slide, so I put the paperbacks in their spots on the bookshelves. Jake always teased me about my bedroom being public library chic.

  At least I had nothing personal or illicit to hide—no booze, no vibrator, not even naughty pics on my phone. Nothing to say I’d ever done anything adult in my life.

  Standing with my back against the closed door, I attempted to see the room with fresh eyes. The space screamed desperately bored, turn-of-the-century spinster, including the framed embroidery sampler I’d done when I was fifteen, and my old dollhouse. I kept meaning to get rid of the dollhouse and the stuffed animals who lived in it, but I still wasn’t quite convinced they weren’t sentient.

  All I was missing was a few cats—which I would have dearly loved but wasn’t allowed to have.

  There was a knock, and I swung the door open so fast that Vincent was still poised with his fist up.

  Vincent chuckled and lowered his hand.

  “What’s up, Vince?” I glanced around but Shawn, my relief guard, was gone. Mother must have told Vincent to dismiss him.

  “Miss Aberdeen, your new bodyguard is here. Ms. Kincaid sent me to fetch you.”

  “Have I ever mentioned I hate meeting new people? I always make a fool of myself.”

  “You’re fine, Deen,” Vincent said less formally. “Especially away from Ms. Kincaid. I think you get flustered trying to please her.”

  Understatement of the century.

  “Maybe I should stop worrying about that so much, but when you know you’re going to be living with someone for the rest of your life, you have to make the best of it.”

  Vincent put his hand on my shoulder, his face comically solemn. “Maybe she’ll remarry and move to Bora Bora.” We both laughed, knowing damned well my mother was married to her money.

  Like Jake, Vincent had been around so long he was more like an uncle than household staff, although Mother would never forgive breaches in decorum. But what Mother didn’t know, we got away with.

  “What do you think of this new guy?” I asked as we walked through the second floor hall to the main stairs.

  “He’s”—Vincent shrugged—“quiet?”

  Great. We were going to spend almost every minute of every day together, and he wasn’t chatty? Hopefully he had good taste. I needed someone to help me choose outfits for the multitude of fundraisers I got sent to as Mother’s emissary.

  Mother’s crisp I’m-addressing-inferiors tone was audible as soon as we reached the main floor, and I rolled my eyes. Getting To Know You Day sounded like it was getting off to a promising start.

  Aiming for quiet composure, I stepped into the room. The air in my lungs escaped in a silent squeak.

  Oh dear lord.

  The new bodyguard stood behind the chair he’d probably been offered, his body at ease. He was obnoxiously, implausibly tall, and broad-shouldered, and his dark hair was shaved down to almost nothing. His age was hard to guess, but I was thinking early thirties. He had strong bone structure and a squashed nose, but it was the lethality about him that made me take a step back. It wasn’t that he was ugly, despite the scars on his face—it was that he had the air of a man who killed people as a hobby and never lost sleep over it.

  Mr. Congeniality would make a very believable mafia enforcer.

  Lovely.

  This guy wouldn’t be giving me fashion advice, or lying around with me watching television or reading. So much for the buddy idea.

  I dug my nails into my palms, wondering why my guts felt like they were jumping up and down without the rest of me.

  “You’ll be measured for your uniform tomorrow. She has a fundraiser next Saturday, and you’ll need to attend.”

  Mother still sat behind her desk, looking busy and formidable. The desk was a statement—I am the mistress of the house, you are a peon. Like she would ever let anyone forget?

  Even in dark slacks and a dark button-down shirt, the man would be foreboding enough to keep paparazzi-types at a respectful distance. The clothes seemed like a disguise—far too civilized for someone like him. As he turned dark eyes toward me, my cheeks and neck prickled with heat.

  His gaze was intelligent, intense. Those eyes assessed me and dismissed me as a piece of fluff. He turned back to Mother.

  Fantastic. We might be together for the next twenty years, and I’d already failed to make a good impression.

  Not that I impressed anyone.

  “Aberdeen, this is Blue Köhler. Mr. Köhler, this is my daughter, Aberdeen.”

  Blue? Odd name. Then again, I wasn’t exactly in a position to judge, considering my own name.

  “Miss Kincaid.” He inclined his head.

  My god, his voice. Could I die now?

  “As I said earlier, she’ll try to talk you into being lax. She doesn’t think she’s in any danger, but we’ve sheltered her from knowing the worst of it.”

  With difficulty, I pulled my gaze away from the bodyguard’s intriguing size and bone structure and glanced sharply at Mother. What on earth was she talking about?

  “But…nothing has happened since that Christmas,” I insisted, cold dread trickling through me.

  Mother sighed. “I didn’t want to frighten you, but you’re not a child anymore, as you so recently pointed out. Part of being an adult means being made aware of ugly truths.”

  Mother gestured for me to sit, and I’d obediently done so before realizing it probably made me seem like a biddable child to…Blue? Mr. Köhler? Then again, why did I care? He was going to get a clear understanding of me sooner or later. Why bother pretending I was anything other than a sheltered, obedient girl?

  “There are intermittent threats to your safety. There always have been.”

  She slid a file across the desk to me then gestured for me to help myself to the information it contained. It was a list with dates and brief descriptions of events. Along with letters threatening my safety, men had been spotted on the premises—two right outside my bedroom window. They’d escaped, but they’d dropped a bag with sedatives, zip ties, duct tape, and rope.

  “You’re a valuable target. I can’t afford to take chances.”

  I flattened a hand against my chest, trying to get my heart to slow. The silent shadow of my new bodyguard lurked at my elbow, patiently waiting, and I handed the man the list.

  “There have been attempts to deal with this proactively?” he asked as he began to flip through the file.

  “Yes. Jake will give you the full account, but the main issue is that I have enemies, and there have been a number of attempts. More lately, as you can see by the dates. Four in the past seven weeks.”

&nbs
p; What?

  Mother stood and straightened her impeccable linen suit. How she managed to wear linen and not get hopelessly wrinkled, I’d never understand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to an impromptu meeting with an investor. If you have any questions, Mr. Köhler, you can discuss things with Jake when he gets back tomorrow.”

  The new bodyguard inclined his head to Mother as she left the room, heels clicking, leaving the two of us alone.

  Well this was awkward.

  “I don’t know if your mother told you, Miss Kincaid, but my post with you officially begins tomorrow. She wants me familiar with your routine before Jake leaves for Florida. He’ll mostly be doing administrative tasks until he leaves.”

  Great.

  I’d been planning to hang out in my room all week and binge-watch a new Netflix series, but I felt like I had to pretend I had a life…at least for a while. What could I do rather than crochet?

  “Uh… Well, prepare to be busy.”

  “Your mother said that you rarely leave your room, let alone the house.”

  Jeez. Thanks, Mother. “The fundraisers I attend can be taxing, so on my off days I live a quiet life.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  How could I make this man believe I was interesting without sounding like I was lying, even though I’d actually be lying?

  “Tomorrow I should probably shop for a dress for the garden party fundraiser for the ballet school. Do you like shopping?” The sound of my own hopefulness shamed me. Jake had been my best friend since I was a baby, and although I knew this man probably wouldn’t like me the same way, I’d hoped we’d at least be company for each other.

  The guard’s mouth quirked as if my question was one of the silliest he’d ever been asked.

  “Your job is to live your life, Miss Kincaid. Mine is to guard it. It doesn’t matter if you plan to shop, or party, or nap. You don’t need to entertain me. I’m not a guest.”

  This wasn’t what I’d had in mind. Not at all.