Protecting Her - Kira Blakely

Table of Contents
Title Page
Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Thank you!
Billionaire's Protest
Billionaire Bad Boys
Caught Off Guard
EXCLUSIVE "BIG HOSE" (((NEVER BEFORE
PUBLISHED)))
Beauty and the Billionaire Sample
Faking For Her Sample
About the Author
Copyright
Protecting Her
A SECRET BABY BILLIONAIRE
ROMANCE
KIRA BLAKELY
Whoever left this beauty for dead will fucking
pay!
I was never capable of love.
Eternal bachelor is more accurate.
What rich guy wants to be tied down?
But when I found Elspeth, injured and alone, I
knew I would never be the same.
I had never seen such frailty and beauty.
My inner caveman was fucking roaring.
Now, I have a new purpose.
Destroy whoever did this!
I’ll protect her. And the baby growing inside her.
Chapter 1
Finn
I powered the white Escalade through the heavy
snow that smothered Highway 77. I knew I was
probably fifty miles from Lake Superior and
although I’d come this far, I was tempted to turn
around and head back to humanity. The place was
just too damned cold and void of human life for my
taste.
What the hell am I doing here, anyway? Okay,
so I’d started bullshitting with Jay and the other
guys at his cabin outside Traverse City. They’d
dared me to brave the blizzard warning and prove
that my “fancy Cadillac” could make it to Superior
and back before noon the following day. I’d had a
couple of beers, but once I sobered up, I took the
challenge.
What can I say? I was spoiling for trouble, and
they were obnoxious. The rest was the history that
brought me to the godforsaken wilderness and
threatened to smother me. The deal was that I had
to mail something, anything, to Jay with a Grand
Marais postmark on it—undeniable proof I’d made
it. I didn’t stop to think until I hit Hwy. 28 that I
could have faked the damned thing with Photoshop
on my laptop and been in a Traverse City casino
with my dick cradled in some babe’s hand while I
played the roulette table. Hell, no! I had to do it
legit.
It was early January, and I was surprised how
much later in the day the sun was visible that far
north. I reached back into my high school science
class and remembered something about tilt and axis
and… oh, what the hell. Did it matter?
People from Michigan called it the UP. When
Jay had laid down the challenge to drive to Lake
Superior, he’d held up his hand and pointed just
below his pinkie finger to show me where we were.
Apparently, there was no body part that resembled
the upper peninsula—no scale of measurement to
indicate in a conversation how far away Superior
was. To me, it was just the most godawful place I
could imagine.
I was bored. I’d gotten gas just after leaving
Jay’s and when I stopped a dozen miles north of
there to take a piss, I realized my phone was
missing. I’d still been so full of myself, I guessed
I’d knocked it off the seat when I slid out. There I
was—no radio signal, no phone and not even a
damned CD in the car that wasn’t Christmas music!
I regretted not having the satellite radio activated,
but hell, who would have ever expected I’d end up
in this Godforsaken nowhere? I reflected
momentarily on how well we plan everything in our
lives—maybe even our burials—but I couldn’t
think far ahead enough to realize that when I
crossed that damned bridge, I would be leaving
civilization as I knew it.
The wind was blowing loose snow into one of
the UP’s fabled white-outs. They had the bridge
shut down to one lane and were escorting vehicles
over like high wire artists clinging to the same
balance pole. They almost didn’t let me go over—
called me a “high profile” vehicle, whatever the
hell that meant—but I don’t think he was talking
about price tag.
I lied and told the guy I was bound for the air
force base to pick up a big shot and he promptly
saluted me and let me go. I guess it never occurred
to him that I wasn’t in uniform and I sure as hell
was glad he didn’t ask to see identification. As I
looked back, I felt like an ass for having done it.
At least the road was deserted, so I headed
right down the middle. Haven’t these people ever
heard of a plow? The light of the dwindling sun
strobed through the endless pines; bright enough to
make me squint. Off to my right I saw a pattern in
the snow—looked like a pair of footprints leading
from the edge of the road off across the snow.
There was just one set and no sign of any return.
That’s when I saw the billow of smoke and
slowed down to look. I could see a shack-looking
building set just about fifteen feet back into the
wood line—and the smoke sure as hell wasn’t from
a fireplace. What the hell? One corner of the roof
was on fire, flames blowing smoke like a fat man
with a Cuban cigar. Then I realized that the tracks
led directly to it.
It was below zero outside, and I was wearing
dress shoes from the party at Jay’s. I only had my
leather jacket and no gloves. What an idiot! I
looked north and wondered how far it could be to a
phone. Surely these people had a fire department
somewhere. It wouldn’t take any effort at all for me
to keep on going and let the next car behind me
deal with this. I could be headed south again, and
home, in about an hour.
“Fuck!” I slammed my hand onto the top of
the wheel. There was no way I could live with
being blind on top of stupid, so I did the only
decent thing. I pulled as close to the edge of the
road as possible, disregarding that I might be
burying my wheels. Opening the door, I trudged off
toward the shack with snow up to my calves.
When I got about twenty yards away, the wind
shifted and the smoke enveloped me. It felt like
acid in my throat, and I stooped long enough to cup
two handfuls of snow to put over my burning eyes.
Goddammit!
“Hey! Anybody in there?” I paused long
enough to listen for a response over the crackling of
the fire. The shack was old and the paint long worn
off. It was pure tinder and whoever’s tracks led into
that open door might already be dead.
That’s when it occurred to me that it could be
a trap. Maybe some asshole was sitting in there
with a mask, waiting for some innocent to come to
try and save him. Then he’d shoot or knock them
over the head and leave them to die while he took
off with their wallet and car. This is like the
goddamned Wild West!
I had no choice, although the coward in me
was considering a dozen or more. I ran toward the
opened doorway, calling out as I got closer. No one
answered. Finally, there was no other way to avoid
it. I was in the doorway and peering inside. At least
the fire was casting some light so I could see.
Sure enough, there was something roughly the
size of a body on the floor, but still in the shadows.
The fire was burning just inside the door, and I
leaned in to look for a window. I couldn’t see
clearly, so I peeled off my leather coat, shoved
snow quickly down the neck of my shirt and then
held the coat over my head as I ran in.
It was a body—a woman from the looks of
those curves. She was petite with long dark hair and
was dead or passed out. I couldn’t wait to check, so
I scooped her over my shoulder, threw the jacket
over the two of us, and ran back through the
doorway. My lungs burned—I had to get away from
the boiling clouds of black smoke. She was light, so
I ran in the direction of the Escalade, dropping to
my knees about halfway there to feel for a pulse.
She had one… I ripped open her blouse and
held my head to the soft flesh just above her
rounded breasts to listen. Not sure what the hell I
was doing, I gave her my version of CPR, copied
from what I’d seen in the movies. It must have
been close enough because I could see her chest
rise, so I kept it going.
It seemed to take forever, but I’m sure it was
only a minute or so before her mouth opened and
she sucked air into her lungs on her own. She broke
into a coughing fit, and I wanted to do the same
damned thing. She rolled onto her side, a mixture of
gray saliva and perhaps something else spilling
across the virgin snow. I tried to scoop clean snow
to her face to help her, but she pushed my hand
away and struggled to get to her knees.
“Help me. I’m so cold!” Her ragged voice was
soft, and I could hear a bit of a Southern drawl. She
turned to look at me, fear widening her eyes, and
that’s when I felt it. I was lost.
Chapter 2
Elspeth
My throat, oh God, my throat. How I wished I had
a glass of sweet tea with a hundred iced cubes—no
wait, a gallon of it! I may as well have wished for a
hundred gallons; there wasn’t anything but
miserable snow around me.
“Let’s get you in the car!” said the man who
was leaning over me. I wished he would quit wiping
my face with that infernal snow! It was nasty, just
plain nasty. Everything about this place felt nasty.
I was so cold, though, and my chest felt heavy
and clogged. As much as I didn’t want to trust him,
I had no choice. I looked around for another option,
but it had begun to snow hard, and it was dark. I
nodded, and he picked me up again, this time
carrying me like a small child. I huddled against his
chest, no matter how wet it was.
I’d begun to shake; I couldn’t make it stop.
My tummy was queasy, my head ached… Sweet
Jesus, I felt horrible. I wrapped my arms around the
neck of the man carrying me, hoping that wherever
he was taking me, I would feel better.
I heard a beep and then suddenly, ahead of us
in the pummeling snow, lights flashed on and a car
engine whirred to life. He continued—sort of
walking, sort of staggering. I hoped I wasn’t so
heavy that he’d just drop and be done with me. He
didn’t. The man’s arm left me long enough to open
the car’s door and then he slid me onto the back
seat and climbed in with me. It made me feel safe;
the thick leather was clean and dry, not to mention
luxurious. It was cold, though, and I looked around
for a floor mat, an extra coat—anything that would
warm me up.
The man leaned forward between the front
seats and tapped some buttons. Immediately, a rush
of delicious, warm air blew through the vents, onto
my wet skin. I felt so sleepy. I wanted to sleep and
not wake up until the pain in my chest and the cold
were gone.
The man rolled to his knees and fumbled
behind our seat. He came back with a zipped bag,
tugged at the plastic furiously, and then yanked out
a plaid stadium blanket. He shook it open and
spread it over me.
“You have to take off your clothes,” he
ordered crisply.
“What?” He’s going to rape me? I went on
high alert, at least as high as I could in my misery.
“No, it’s not like that. Hypothermia. You’ve
got to get the damned wet clothes off; they’re
pulling what little heat you have in your body.
Believe me, you’ll feel better. I’m going to get out
now and get behind the wheel. You’ll have your
privacy. We need to find a town, or even a house,
and get you some dry clothes.”
He didn’t wait for an answer but opened his
door and the cold rushed over me again. There was
a slam and the interior lights stayed on as he
immediately climbed into the driver’s seat. I heard
his keys jangle as he inserted one into the ignition
and the car continued to idle.
“Get those clothes off!” he barked at me
again, and I could see him watching me in the
rearview mirror he’d adjusted. I wanted to just go
to sleep, but knew he was right. I tried to focus on
how nice it would be to be warm again, rather than
my timidity at being watched.
It was hard to get the zipper to lower due to
my shaking fingers. I couldn’t keep a grip on the
frozen zipper tab.
“I-I can’t…” I mumbled.
“Can’t what?” He was perturbed, and I was
shaking even more at the idea of his anger.
“It’s fr-r-ro-zen and my fingers are sha-
shaking.” I felt tears beginning to surface in my
frustration.
The man turned his head to look back at me.
He cursed beneath his breath, rolled out of his front
seat and opened the door to mine, climbing in
beside me. “Okay,” he said, “think of me as a
doctor or something. Can you do that?” he asked,
although he wasn’t really waiting for an answer.
I realized then that he intended to help me,
and I pulled back instinctively. My head was
aching, and I began to cry more earnestly.
“Dammit!” he cursed.
“Close your eyes!” I begged.
“Look, we can sit here and argue the social
niceties while you slowly pass into a hypothermic
sleep from which you may never wake up, or I can
get these clothes off. You close your eyes!”
I did as he suggested, but not because it
preserved my modesty, but because I was drifting
into that sleepy world where the pain was dulled
and it felt warm.
Chapter 3
Finn
I felt frustrated beyond belief at my circumstances,
and that wasn’t something I tolerated often. I had
people who took care of things. It was my job never
to look back. The girl was obviously in deep shit—
she was quivering like a martini shaker and now
she’d fallen asleep. I knew that wasn’t good. I
couldn’t say I was feeling all that warm myself.
She was limp and malleable in her sleep; at
least that much was good. I pulled back the stadium
blanket, hoping it hadn’t soaked up too much of the
dampness from her clothes. Her hand was lying on
her lower belly, the effort to lower the zipper
obviously more than she could manage. I began,
instead, with her blouse, as it was a lighter-weight
material and I could pull off what was left of it
more quickly. I’d already ripped it when I listened
for her heartbeat outside the shack.
I glanced back toward the burning building
and could see it was about to collapse. It had been
perhaps a century old and most likely was
somebody’s hunting shack, which would account
for why it wasn’t maintained. It looked as invitingly
warm as a giant campfire, but there was no way I
was taking her back there.
I bent forward and pulled at her buttons, some
of which popped their threads and spilled to the car
floor. Reaching behind her neck, I pulled her
upright to lie against my chest as I unsnapped her
bra and pulled it, along with the remaining cloth of
her blouse, off in one movement. That was when I
saw the bruise on the back of her neck, just below
her hairline. I frowned; she’d been hit from behind.
She fell back as I released her, and I felt
myself go hard as I viewed her. Her skin was the
color of light butter toffee, smooth with the
moisture that came naturally with good health. Her
dark, mahogany hair lay in damp soft curls almost
to her waist and its color was echoed in even,
natural brows and thick eyelashes. Her mouth was
very kissable—a bit pouty with a full bottom lip
that revealed small, virginally white teeth. Her
breasts were perfectly shaped for my hands, full
and rounded. Her nipples were perfect buds that
invited me to suck them.
She wore a necklace, one of those pendants
that girls wore with their first name. E-l-s-p-e-t-h, it
spelled.
I shook my head to clear my lustful reverie,
reminding myself that she was in trouble. My hands
froze as I realized her jeans were next. Buying time,
I pulled off her leather boots and socks, which were
entirely inadequate for this climate, but then who
was I to be critical in my dress shoes?
My fingers shook a bit as I unbuttoned her
jeans and pulled down that zipper. As it lowered, it
revealed a pair of soft pink lace panties; the reveal
was like a stage curtain opening to a pristine world
of innocence. I coaxed the jeans downward,
revealing the apex between her legs. The nylon of
her panties was wet and her mound of soft hair
perfectly outlined. It took everything I had not to
put my hand over it—to penetrate its entrance with
my fingertip.
I had to move her onto my lap to pull the jeans
completely off. It took not a second’s consideration
to pull the pink panties with them and with a sense
of awe, I realized she was limp, naked, and
completely spread before me. Her one leg dropped
to the floor, opening her to my full view. God help
me.
Grabbing the stadium blanket, I wrapped it
around her as best as I could and reached over her
to drape her clothing on the hanger hook over the
window. They would catch warm air from the vent
that way and eventually dry.
I moved her back to the seat, because my own
clothes were soaked. I looked at her longingly but I
had to find some help, so I pulled away and
climbed back into the front seat.
Throwing it into gear, I hit the gas… and while
it began to inch sideways, we weren’t moving
forward. “Damn!” I rammed the lever upward into
reverse and gave it gas. Nothing… but the sound of
spinning tires. “Fuck!” I crawled out and surveyed
the wheels, but the vehicle had slid off the shoulder
and was solidly embedded. The snow was growing
in depth at an unbelievable rate. I could barely
make out the roadway; it had become a uniform
blanket of depth. I got back behind the wheel and
tried to rock the car, but it wouldn’t move free. We
were stuck.
I knew she was in trouble, and I was headed in
the same direction. I had less than a third tank of
gas and there was no telling when someone would
drive by. The road, in my opinion, was probably
impassable. We were just going to be there for a
while. In the darkness with no moon and nothing to
light us—not to mention that we were in a white
vehicle—we were an unmovable target.
I was shivering and needed to get my own
clothes off. Glancing over the seat into the back, I
knew the only thing I could do for her was to share
body heat. I told myself that was wisdom and not
lust, but neither logic argued, so I gave in.
Unbuckling my belt and my pants, I slid them
off quickly, including the silk boxers my last
girlfriend, Mariah, had given me for Christmas.
How ironic that I wore them the first time when
Mariah was not there to enjoy them. My shirt and t-
shirt followed within seconds and now we were
both completely naked.
I crawled into the back with the girl, Elspeth,
and maneuvered her against my body, wrapping the
stadium blanket over us. I would have preferred to
lie on the top, but was afraid I’d crush her; she was
probably less than half my weight. I decided to turn
so she was facing me, and we were both on our
hips. I took the outside and sandwiched her
between my naked body and the back seat. I
couldn’t help it; no matter how cold I was, I had a
full erection at the touch of her skin against mine.
I lay there, aching with the need to explore her
vulnerable body and whatever sense of honor that
remained in me struggling to come up with a game
plan. Without more gas, rationing would have to
begin soon. There was no way to anticipate how
long we’d be stuck there. Water, obviously, was not
going to be a problem. I had a fifth of Jim Beam in
the back—an element of my party provisions for
Jay’s house. I remembered, though, that you should
never give someone alcohol when hypothermia was
a danger—something about it slowing the heart and
making the effects of the cold speed up.
The vehicle was nicely warm and eventually I
quit shivering. I knew that at the rate the snow was
falling, our tailpipe would get covered and we could
get asphyxiated. Eventually, I would have to pull on
my damp clothes, climb out, and clear it. I’d also
have to begin rationing the gas, turning the
Escalade off about every ten minutes.
“I’m so cold,” came her soft voice against my
chest. “Please, can you warm me up?”
I rolled my eyes at the implications I wished
she meant, but I knew she hadn’t. At least she was
awake now, so that was a good sign.
“Hey, there,” I told her, my voice low with
need for her. “I was afraid I’d lost you.” I pulled
her head against my chest. I could smell the smoke
in her hair, but it was velvety soft. “You’re going to
be fine. I had to take off your wet clothes, but
they’re hanging up to dry now.”
“Why aren’t you wearing clothes?” came her
soft, but completely understandable question.
“I got wet, too. I packed snow in my shirt
whe...