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The President's Daughter
Annette Broadrick
Mills & Boon M&B
SLEEPLESS IN THE WHITE HOUSENever falter. Never flinch. And never let anyone get too close.Steely Special Agent Nick Logan knew the rules for protecting the First Family. What he didn't know was why Ashley Sullivan, the president's all-too-distracting daughter, would balk at his assignment as her bodyguard…and sabotage his self-control.Chaste yet alluring, Ashley seemed intent on uncovering the man behind Nick's rock-hard muscles and mirrored shades. But didn't this innocent see the dangers all around her? The danger in such a man's kiss? Worse, who would protect Ashley's bodyguard…once he broke the rules? Once he got too close to the president's daughter?
The President’s Daughter
Annette Broadrick
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANNETTE BROADRICK
believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by RT Book Reviews as one of the best new authors of that year, she has also won an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award for best in series, a W.I.S.H. Award and a Lifetime Achievement Award for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.
Contents
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
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Washington, D.C.
Monday, December 21
A blast of frigid air swirled around Nick Logan, nipping at him like a hungry animal as he walked the two blocks between the parking lot and his newest assignment. He hunched his shoulders and quickened his steps until he reached the guard’s booth at the east gate.
He paused beside the booth, peering inside at the lone occupant. “Hope you have a heater in there.”
Ken White, working the uniformed division of the Secret Service, replied, “One of the many fringe benefits of this job, of course.” He gave Nick a quick once-over. “What are you doing here, Logan? I thought you were on the VP detail.”
Nick shrugged. “I was, until last night.”
“Good to see you,” Ken said.
Nick walked through the iron-gated fence that surrounded the White House. He adjusted the collar of his heavy overcoat around his ears in an effort to block the raw wind blowing down Pennsylvania Avenue.
The bleakness of the day fit his mood.
By the time he reached the side door located between the White House and the Executive Office building and went inside, he was more than glad to be out of the wind. Nick paused in the entryway long enough to remove his coat, draping it over his arm before he headed for W-16, the large office/lounge that served as the command post for the White House detail of the Secret Service.
Once there, Nick paused in the doorway and looked around. The room contained several folding chairs, a long table with coffee and supplies, and a dozen or more men waiting to be briefed for the next shift. He recognized most of them from other assignments. The Secret Service was a close-knit group.
One of them broke away from a small group and approached him.
“Nicholas Logan?” he asked. “I’m Gregory Chambers, the detail leader. Appreciate your coming on board at such short notice.”
“I was sorry to hear about Colin Crenshaw’s accident. What happened?” Nick asked as he followed the older man across the room to the coffee area.
“Lost control of his car over in Alexandria,” Chambers replied, refilling his cup while Logan poured himself some coffee, allowing the steaming brew to warm his hands. “The investigating officers figure the icy weather was to blame. Ran into a pole. One of those freak accidents nobody can really explain.” Chambers motioned Nick to follow him once again. “You’ll be covering his four-to-midnight shift,” he said over his shoulder. “Colin was a good man. We’re going to miss him.”
Chambers paused beside a tall African-American who Nick noticed had been watching him since he’d first walked into the room—watching and assessing without betraying his thoughts. “Colin and Ron Stevenson here were partners, so you’ll be working together.”
Nick held out his hand and Stevenson shook it.
“We working the Man?” Nick asked, referring to the president.
Ron shook his head. “Nope. The daughter.”
Not quite the kiddy detail, but close. Keeping an eye on a college-age female was a little better than following the schedule of a couple of active teenage boys.
Before he could ask Ron any more questions, Chambers began the briefing.
“Only one incident to report since your last shift,” he said to everyone. “A taxi driver from Baltimore drove up to the front gate. His fare was a woman demanding to speak to the president. The matter was turned over to the police.” He continued to read from his notes, making comments and answering questions. Once everything was covered, Chambers nodded toward Nick.
“The last item to be covered is to welcome Nicholas Logan, who’s joining this shift. Logan’s been working the VP detail for the past three years. Before that, he did his military service in various areas, including the Mideast during the Gulf crisis. Welcome aboard, Nick.”
Several pairs of eyes turned his way, Logan noted. He received a few nods and a couple of smiles. This small group of men knew what they were there to do—keep the members of the first family safe—at least from four to midnight. After that, another group came in until they were relieved by the eight-o’clock morning shift. During their off-hours, he’d get an opportunity to get to know some of them better, but now each of them was focused on the business at hand.
In his case, he would be learning more than he ever cared to know about the president’s daughter—which, at present, was very little.
Ashley Elizabeth Sullivan, the oldest child and only daughter of James Allen Sullivan and his wife, Juliana Holmes Sullivan, was in her third year at Wellesley, and no doubt currently home for the Christmas holidays. From all that he had read and heard, she maintained an active life-style.
Staying close to the VP had entailed a highly structured, politics-as-usual schedule. Nick had become accustomed to being part of the Washington infrastructure. Keeping a close watch on the activities of someone not in the loop would be a distinct change of pace. Not exactly what he’d visualized as his new assignment when he received the call late last night.
Once Chambers dismissed the group, Nick turned to Ron and said, “So what’s the drill?”
“The usual. We do our job, even though Ms. Sullivan has made her opinion of our presence abundantly clear on more than one occasion.”
“Let me guess. A twenty-one-year-old single woman doesn’t care to be closely monitored by a group of men showing a keen interest in anyone who approaches her.”
“You got it. She says it’s embarrassing and her friends rib her, especially whenever she goes out on a date. She insists on no motorcades…grudgingly allows a trail car.”
“Should we tell her that it isn’t our biggest thrill to tag along on those occasions, either?”
Ron smiled. “Not necessary. She’s a bright girl, and she’s been around politicians and the need for protection most of her life.”
“You’d think she’d be used to it, then.”
“What she is—from my reading of the situation—is tired of it. Can’t really say I blame her, but I don’t think our sympathy impresses her much. What she wants is for us to don our invisible cloaks and allow her to get on with her life as inconspicuously as possible.”
Nick grinned. “I can see her point, but as you say, we’re just doing our job.” He glanced around the room. Most of the others were gone. “So where do we find the princess today?”
Ron glanced at his watch. “When she’s home from school, Ashley is generally in the gym working out at this hour. Since we weren’t notified of any changes, we’ll go there,” Ron said, leading the way through the labyrinth that made up the interior of the White House.
Before today, Nick had only been in the more public parts of the building, so the area they were covering now was new to him. He made note of the twists and turns. It wouldn’t do for him to get lost in the damned place.
“You weren’t given much notice on this reassignment,” Ron said after a few minutes of silence. “How do you feel about it?”
Nick shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter to me where I’m assigned. But the timing didn’t make me want to leap for joy. I was due for a much-needed vacation later this week. Nothing less than a national emergency was going to keep me from taking it, or so I thought.”
A corner of Ron’s mouth lifted briefly. “Sorry to hear about that. I can’t remember the last time I had more than a couple of days off.” He was quiet for a moment. “Was your family upset?”
“Well, since I was supposed to get together for Christmas with my folks, my two brothers and their families, none of them were too thrilled with this morning’s phone call. You’d think by this time they’d be used to my erratic schedule.”
“I take it you’re not married,” Ron said.
Nick shook his head. “You?”
“Not anymore. After months on the campaign trail last year, I got home to find that Janine had moved out, taking our two little girls with her. She said this wasn’t the kind of life she wanted.”
“This business is tough on marriages,” Nick said.
Ron shrugged, as though to release the tension in his shoulders. “I manage to see Corinne and Sasha a few times a month. Not exactly what I had in mind when we talked about having a family.”
“Those long road trips can really mess up a relationship,” Nick said quietly.
“I do my best to talk to the girls on the phone every morning,” Ron said. “Once they start school, it’ll be tougher for me to reach them as long as I work this shift.”
“Maybe Ms. Ashley should understand that we all have our crosses to bear,” Nick drawled. “Do you think we should be the ones to enlighten her?”
Ron made a sweeping bow. “You first, oh brave leader,” he said in a reverent voice. They both laughed.
After another, more companionable silence, Ron spoke up again.
“I hear you were one of the men who parachuted into Baghdad before all the fireworks started a few years ago.”
Nick glanced at Ron before looking away. “You heard that, did you?”
“And that you were still there when the attack began.”
Nick didn’t respond right away. When he did, all he said was, “Somebody forgot to synchronize the watches.”
“That’s a story I’d like to hear more about sometime.”
Nick glanced at Ron from the corner of his eye. “Only if you have some of your own tales to share.”
Ron nodded. “Good enough. I like to know the man I work with.”
Nick was thinking the same thing about his new partner. Although Stevenson was polite enough, even cordial, there was a quiet air of reserve surrounding him. “Not much hidden about me,” Nick replied lightly. “What you see is what you get.”
“Uh-huh,” Ron replied with a hint of skepticism. “Here’s the gym. Come meet our Ms. Ashley.” Ron spoke to the two men positioned just outside the door whom they were replacing, and briefly introduced them to Nick before he and Nick entered the gym.
Ashley was working out on the Nautilus equipment specifically designed for the upper torso. From the damp look of her thin jersey top and latex shorts, the woman had been putting some energy into her efforts.
The first thought that crossed Nick’s mind was that her photos didn’t do her justice. Despite her casual attire and perspiring condition, there was no hiding the fact that Ashley was a very attractive woman.
Her dark brown hair was pulled high onto the crown of her head in some kind of knot, although several strands had worked their way loose, clinging to her forehead, cheeks and the nape of her neck.
The creamy texture of her fair skin—skin now glowing with a faint sheen of moisture—was a stark contrast to her delicately arched dark brows and thick lashes, but it was her eyes that pulled at him. Whiskey-colored eyes seemed to dominate her heart-shaped face.
As soon as they walked into the room, she stopped her workout and moved away from the machine, picking up a towel nearby and blotting her face.
He guessed her height to be about five foot five. She had a slender build, her body well toned with muscles that were subtly defined. The body of an athlete, he thought to himself.
Now that he was face-to-face with the person he’d been assigned to protect, Nick was even less certain how he felt about his new duties. All things being equal, he would still prefer getting his vacation to following this woman around. Even so, the idea of spending time in this attractive young woman’s presence intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.
Nick realized he was feeling a little off balance. Somebody should have warned him years ago that choosing to play the role of hero could be damned disturbing at times.
