My Biker Bodyguard (22 page)

Drake flipped through the long list of repairs. The east
wing needed new paint, patching, and a thorough refurnishing
after their live-round exercise last week. The upper floors of
the sprawling estate were in dire need of rewiring and two
guest cottages had suffered flooding during the late summer
rains. None of which was of great concern, he just hated the
boring duty of hiring men and signing checks.

Starlight Estate, as his mother had named the old family
home, had expanded like an elephant off the diet-wagon. In the
last decade an indoor pool, the dojo, the gymnasium, and the
armory, not to mention scads of smaller structures for security
and training, had increased the sixteen rooms to nearly thirty.

Knight, Inc., the family acquisitions and recovery
company, generated ample funds for the upkeep. He'd soon
take over the enterprise after his father, Colonel Bruce Knight,
retired for the second time. The ex-military man's focus lay
more in Washington these days than it did back home.

The television glowed mutely from a walnut cabinet.
Tuned to CNBC, Senator Halley commanded the media's
attention with a finger-pointing declaration of some sort.
Drake didn't care for the man, an opinion based on the current
feud between his father and the senator.

The outer door slammed, followed by echoing shouts in
the large foyer. Drake clicked the television off, eager for the
interruption. Only one person in the world entered his home
like that. Stark.

From the thudding footfalls bearing down on him, he
guessed she wasn't happy about Mexico. He adjusted his cuffs
and unsuccessfully tried to control his smile. If there was
anything more interesting than a pissed off woman, it was a
pissed off Stark.

Fritz appeared, more friend than butler, his wizened face
puckered with concern. Drake waved him back through the red
oak doors. No one could stop a freight train with polite
cajoling.

"Drake!" She shouted as she banged into the room. "Easy
job? Why the hell didn't I know the mine was guarded?"
"Hello, Stark. It's good to see you," he said mildly. She
hadn't stopped to shower or change after their pilot had
returned her to Houston. Mine dirt clung to her clothes and the
thick, golden braid down her back was dulled to an amber hue.
But there was nothing dull about the snapping green eyes
peering between the ragged locks of her bangs. "I take it
Mexico was more difficult than you were prepared for?"

Award-winning author J.R. Turner fell in love with storytelling
at an early age–only back then they called it telling tales. After
a decade working as a contract artist and craft instructor for the
Milwaukee Public School system, she returned to
writing after moving to her hometown in central Wisconsin in
1999. A million or so words later, her debut novel, Stark
Knight was released in 2005. Today she enjoys exploring
exciting plots and living her passion–only now she calls it
working. Whether it's word smithing during dinner, scene
crafting while driving, or supposing "what if" while reading the
warning label on toothpaste, she finds intrigue in the smallest
details. Her love of action and adventure, coupled with the
desire for a happy ending, have defined her style and granted
her wide appeal. She lives with her husband, three children and
the family cat–who is also an aspiring typist.