Title: Defensless (Somerton Security, Book 1)
Author: Elizabeth Dyer
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: December 1, 2017
Cover Designer: Montlake Romance
Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
When ex-marine Georgia Bennett left the military for high-end private security, it was supposed to soften her snarky attitude. Instead, her short fuse just earned her a punishment of an assignment: protect smart-ass tech genius and Department of Defense contractor Parker Livingston. It should have been easy—only no one warned Georgia that Parker was one seriously drop-dead-gorgeous geek.
The last thing Parker needs is a bodyguard, especially not one with killer curves and a sassy mouth who tempts him to do something incredibly stupid. He’s too busy investigating whoever is turning his technology against him and threatening his team of covert operatives. But when an assassin sends Georgia and Parker running for their lives, it might just be the explosive sexual chemistry and the trust that’s building between them that saves their necks. Because the only thing more dangerous than the combination of Parker’s intellect and Georgia’s aim is their steadfast desire to protect each other, no matter the cost.
“You need stitches,” he said, his voice hoarse. Shaking, he stood, wetting a fresh washcloth from the sink. “Nah.” She tried on a smile, hoping to cut the odd tension filling the room like a heavy cloud of steam. He was angry, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why. “Nothing a Band-Aid or two can’t fix.” She smiled as he turned. “But if you want to kiss it and make it all better, go ahead.” “It’s not funny, Georgia.” Well, no, it wasn’t. But she could see he was winding himself into a first-rate fit, and over what? She’d had worse. “It’s just a graze, Parker. A bit of antibiotic ointment and I’ll be fine.” Provided she touched absolutely nothing in this roach motel, anyway. “Just a graze?” He rounded on her, resuming his position between her legs. “He shot you, Georgia. Shot you.” Agony destroyed his face as he set himself about the task of cleaning up her side. “He came for me, but he hurt you.” “Hey,” she said, laying a palm against his forearm. She tried not to let the way his muscles, bunched and twitching with tension, distract her. “I’m okay. It’s my job to get between you and the bullets.” She stroked a finger along a ridge of muscle and up toward his elbow. “It could have been a lot worse, Parker. We got off easy.” “I don’t consider this,” he said, carefully dabbing at the cut, “getting off easy. It should have been me.” Georgia pulled away. Of course it should have been him. God forbid his fragile male pride suffer the indignity of being saved by a woman. “Your ego will recover. And if it helps, remind yourself a woman didn’t save you; your paid bodyguard did.” She tried to stand, only to have Parker slap a hand on her shoulder and shove her back down. “You think that’s what this is?” he asked, anger lending a frenzied, jerking motion to his movements as he reached for the alcohol and sterile gauze. “Some antiquated antifeminist bullshit? You think my self-esteem is so low that I can’t admit when a woman can kick my ass—or that I’m such a self-important prick I can’t admit when she’s saved it?” Well, yeah. “God, you’re a stubborn creature.” He sighed, letting the righteous indignation he wore so well slip away. “I’m mad because if I’d listened to you, if I hadn’t been so busy thinking things through, analyzing every angle, you might not have been shot at all.”
That was what was bothering him? Guilt? Concern? For her?
A born-and-bred Texan, Elizabeth resides in Dallas, where she indulges in Netflix marathons, Instagramming her dog, and brunch. Definitely brunch. Adorably awkward, Elizabeth hates the phone as much as she loves all the social-media things and hearing from her readers. Follow her on Twitter (@lizdyerwrites) or Instagram (@elizabethdyerwrites).
Elizabeth Dyer likes her heroines smart and snarky, and her heroes strong and sexy. An attorney and recent coffee devotee, Elizabeth spends the majority of her time tucked into a corner table at Starbucks or pinned beneath her (overly affectionate) bullmastiff. When she isn’t working or wrestling the dog, you can usually find Elizabeth writing the types of sexy, suspenseful books she most loves to read.