Rogue Beast (The Rourkes, Book 12) Read online

  Rogue Beast

  Kylie Gilmore

  Copyright © 2020 by Kylie Gilmore

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks are not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Rogue Beast: © 2020 by Kylie Gilmore

  Excerpt from Fetching © 2020 by Kylie Gilmore

  Digital Edition 1.0

  Cover design by: Michele Catalano Creative

  Published by: Extra Fancy Books

  ISBN-13: 978-1-947379-29-9

  Contents

  About Rogue Beast

  FREE DOWNLOAD

  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

  Epilogue

  Freebie

  Also by Kylie Gilmore

  About the Author

  Rogue Beast

  Beauty meets Beast in a case of mistaken identity, a fake relationship, and very real chemistry…

  Harper

  Everyone thinks I’m tough as nails because I used to play a CEO on TV. I’m not. Unfortunately, it’s brought weird stalker men out of the woodwork, which is why I finally broke down and hired a bodyguard. Cut to: a beast of a man with striking aquamarine eyes shows up on the set of my new show. Insta-lust completely takes me by surprise. I’m talking a full head-to-toe rush of heat, fluttering stomach, every nerve ending alive.

  This is a problem. I have a boyfriend, and this is supposed to be a professional relationship. I’m lusty as a teenager coming face-to-face with my crush. And then I realize—my crush is into it.

  Garrett

  I was visiting my sister-in-law on set when Harper Ellis invited me to her trailer. She’s a beauty, all right. A little shy and very sweet. We really connected, so I didn’t want to spoil the moment by admitting I wasn’t her bodyguard.

  Her real guard shows up, and I figure that’s the end of it. Turns out she’s got a boyfriend. But then they break up, and the fallout makes people feel sorry for her (the guy cheated on her in a public way). To save face, she claims she was seeing me.

  I don’t care if we’re faking a relationship for the good PR, the chemistry is real, and I start thinking we have a future. Until everything blows up in my face. Now I need to prove that we belong together.

  NEXT FROM KYLIE GILMORE

  Don’t miss Fetching! There’s an excerpt at the back of this book.

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  1

  Harper

  My phone vibrates with the text I’ve been waiting for all day: Bodyguard is on his way to you.

  I dash out of the soundstage, walking as quickly as I can in high-heeled ankle boots through the fenced-off parking lot of trailers. Goosebumps rise on my skin despite the warm September day in Manhattan. I fought the idea of a guard for a long time—I’m a very private person—but when a man broke into my apartment two weeks ago, startling me from a sound sleep, to ask me to whip him, that was the final straw. Ever since I played a tough-as-nails CEO on my previous show, I’ve had more than my share of harassment from men. They’re either attracted to that toughness, or want to bring me down a peg. It’s called acting, guys!

  Seriously, it’s one thing to have a guy shouting at you on the street or grabbing for your hair or clothes in a crowd—all of which I deal with—and a whole different thing to have a home invader. The even more disturbing part is how he managed to get past the lobby’s night watchman and knew how to disable my apartment’s security system. My new bodyguard is the key to getting a sound sleep again.

  Oh, there’s Trina talking to him. She directs him toward my trailer and dashes off in the opposite direction. My knees wobble as my bodyguard swaggers toward me. He’s a beast of a man. My mouth goes dry, my pulse racing. He’s mid-twenties, tall, six feet plus, and bulky with muscles. His physique is shown off to perfection in a snug black T-shirt and faded jeans. His dark brown hair is clipped short, drawing attention to his sharp cheekbones and square jaw. Black sunglasses hide his eyes. Tough. Hot. Sexy AF. Did not expect that.

  I take a deep breath and slow my pace. I need to be calm, cool, and professional when I meet him. Joe Sullivan and I will be spending a lot of time together. He’s moving into the apartment next door tomorrow at my request. It’s critical we get off on the right foot. Today’s a taping day for our new sitcom, Living Gold, with a live studio audience. I’ll feel better knowing my new bodyguard is on set with me in case there’s any aggressive men in the audience obsessed with my previous character, Amanda.

  The funny thing is, I’m not tough at all. It’s a failing I’ve worked on my whole life. I can play tough, thanks to General Joan Ellis, my grandmother who raised me. Harper! Chin up, shoulders back, never show weakness!

  Ma’am, yes, ma’am!

  Except I would’ve caught hell for responding back. She really missed her calling as an elementary school teacher. The military could’ve used her in command of the troops, instead of attempting to bring a shy, sensitive girl up to her standards. And failing miserably.

  Joe walks right by my trailer, not knowing he missed it, and I dash ahead to greet him, a professional smile pasted on my face to hide the raw lust. “Hi, I’m Harper. So nice to meet you. This one is mine.” I gesture to the trailer. “Follow me. I’d like to chat before taping starts.” I go on ahead, unlocking the door, and head inside, holding the metal door open for him.

  He doesn’t join me. Instead he pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head and just stares. His eyes are a striking aquamarine. My God. He could be in movies. My stomach does a crazy flip, heat flashing through my entire body. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a man on first sight. This could be a problem. I’m his boss. Also, I have a boyfriend. Colton’s been in England for three weeks now filming a movie. I should call him.

  “Please come in,” I say.

  “You’re Harper Ellis.” His voice is deep and smooth like my favorite dark chocolate, giving me a similar jolt of pleasure. Better, if I’m being honest.

  “Yes. Welcome.” It occurs to me he sounds a little surprised. I thought he knew who hired him, though I do look different today from the character I used to play. Amanda Boxer wore business suits and sensible pumps. My new character, Lexi Gold, is a wealthy fashionista, so I’m in a sleeveless Vera Wang black shift dress, with a sheer top above the cleavage, that e
nds mid-thigh with high-heeled designer ankle boots. The biggest difference is my hair. I used to wear a straight-haired dark brown wig as Amanda because it was too much work for the show’s hairstylist to straighten my curly hair, and it caused too much damage to it in the process anyway. I was on the show for three years, so I appreciate my stylist having the foresight to save my hair. Apparently, shoulder-length curls don’t say tough CEO.

  My new guard takes the two steps into my trailer, and the space suddenly shrinks with his large presence. He checks out my trailer while I check out him. He’s exactly what I need to scare off creeper men. His neck is thick and corded, his shoulders wide, and his biceps are so large his arms don’t lie flat at his sides. His thighs look solid and strong, long legs leading to black work boots. Probably steel-toed for maximum fighting power. Perfection.

  He rubs his hands together. “So…nice to meet ya. I caught Capital Asset a few times.” That’s my former show. Amanda Boxer was a ruthless hedge fund CEO.

  My lips curve up in approval. Not because he watched my show. It’s his rough-sounding Brooklyn accent. (I know accents well, part of my training.) I couldn’t have asked for a better fit for this gig. When those local creepers come at me, they’ll have to deal with one of their own.

  Suddenly I realize I’m being rude, checking him out for my own needs. Obviously he’s already been vetted by my assistant, who went through all the résumés. My only requirements were strong, competent, and not too old.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I ask, gesturing toward my mini-fridge. “I have bottled water and diet iced tea.”

  “Sure, I’ll take a water.”

  I brush by him on the way to the mini-fridge, catching the scent of a sexy, musky cologne. Must be professional. I get the bottled water and hand it to him, careful to keep from touching him in the exchange.

  “Thanks,” he says, unscrewing the cap with a quick movement. Strong, so strong with those large hands. He lifts his brows, eying me as he guzzles water. I might be staring.

  I look away. We’re going to be working closely together, so I shouldn’t hold back on the hospitality. This is an important occasion. My first bodyguard ever is going to risk life and limb to keep me safe. The least I can do is share my secret stash. Not my drinks, the good stuff. We’re building a professional relationship here.

  That’s right. Ignore his sexy scent, his stunning body, and beautiful eyes. I open the cabinet above the microwave, carefully push aside the camouflaging red plastic cups on the top shelf, and retrieve a small Ziploc bag. The shelf wobbles. I should call maintenance about that.

  I open the bag, telling him, “I’m not supposed to have this. My wardrobe is set with a lot of designer stuff for my exact size. It’s a big deal if something doesn’t fit.” I lift my gaze to his, getting a jolt when our eyes meet. “Would you like one?” I have three individually wrapped squares of dark chocolate with cherry. I’m normally careful to make them last the entire show season, but he’s more important than my love of chocolate.

  Joe shakes his head. “Real nice of ya to offer, but it’s not in my diet either. I try to eat clean.”

  “Of course, completely understand.” I quickly put the chocolate back in the bag, even though it smells so luscious all I want to do is stuff it in my mouth. It’s near dinner, but I can’t eat until the taping is over. Otherwise, I’ll get sluggish, and my performance will show it. I shove it back on the shelf so quickly I accidentally tip the shelf, and red plastic cups tumble out. “Oops! Wobbly shelf.”

  “I could fix it.”

  My eyes widen. “Oh. Do you have the right tools?” Maybe he has one of those Swiss Army knives that morphs into a dozen useful gadgets.

  One corner of his mouth lifts as he leans close to inspect the shelf. My breath catches at his proximity. Ridiculous. I need to chill. As soon as he shifts to the empty cabinet next to my stash cabinet, I retrieve the Ziploc bag and all of the cups so he can work his magic.

  He reaches in and does something to the other cabinet shelf and then with another quick movement fixes my wobbly shelf. He turns to me. “I borrowed a couple of bracket pegs from the other cabinet, since you weren’t using it. I’ll get you some more. Then you just push them in here. See the predrilled holes?” He points to them in the cabinet.

  I peer around him. “Yes.”

  “You just pop those babies in there. Here, I’ll put your stuff back.” He gestures for the cups and Ziploc bag I’m still holding. I stare at him, surprised by Mr. Fix-It. Not only is he gorgeous, he’s so helpful and genuinely nice. I really expected more of a killer instinct from a bodyguard.

  I hand him the stuff, and he tucks it back exactly as I had it. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Anything else need fixing around here?”

  I blink. My new bodyguard could be my handyman too. I’d never have to let a strange man into my apartment or trailer again. So awesome. Then I remember myself. We’re supposed to be getting the awkwardness out of the way—my awkwardness—by having a professional conversation, client to bodyguard. “That’s all, thanks.” I gesture toward my sofa. “Have a seat.”

  He ambles over to the sofa with a relaxed stride. Wish I could be that relaxed. I’m usually a little high-strung before a taping, but this is also an unusual situation for me, working with my first bodyguard. Though I have to admit he’s not at all like I expected. I thought he’d be this tough scary man who would take some time for me to get comfortable having around. He’s not giving off any scary vibes at all.

  I like him already.

  I take the seat next to him, crossing one leg over the other. He’s drinking water again, his Adam’s apple going up and down hypnotically. Stop staring!

  I focus on his eyebrow, avoiding getting lost in his aquamarine eyes again. “So, I’m not sure if Trina clued you in, but this is my first time having a bodyguard. Please bear with me as I get used to having a shadow. I know for sure I want you on set when we bring in the live studio audience on Fridays. We’ve got nine more weeks of taping, and then I’m not sure where I’ll be after that. A lot depends on if the show gets picked up for another season as far as what future roles I can take. But if we both feel it’s working, I wonder if you’d be open to travel?”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “Hafta think about that one.”

  I hold up a palm. “Sorry. I’m rushing ahead. We’ll play it by ear. You stick close on taping day and accompany me to and from work. I know I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re next door.” I recently bought the next-door apartment with the intention of knocking down the separating wall to expand my own, so it worked out well to have the nearby space.

  His lips curve into a small smile, and my pulse thrums through me. “Sounds like we’ll be spending a lot of time together. It’s good to get to know each other. Gotta say, you don’t sound as tough as you do on TV.” Living Gold hasn’t aired yet, so he’s referring to my CEO character.

  I try to keep the irritation from my voice. “That’s because Amanda Boxer was a character I played, not me.” I don’t know why people don’t get that.

  He leans close. “It makes me realize what a great actor you are.”

  “Oh.” I run my finger along the seam of the sofa cushion, staring at it. I’m not great with compliments, having received so few growing up. General Joan did not coddle.

  He leans back on the sofa and continues, “You seem sweet in real life.”

  “Well, sweet doesn’t help in a fight.”

  He grins, his aquamarine eyes twinkling. My stomach does another crazy flip. “Probably not, but I like it.”

  My cheeks heat, my heart kicks hard, and my brain completely checks out on me. I’m all discombobulated with the compliments and the sexiness. Professional. Keep it professional.

  “You’re exactly as I hoped,” I say. Except gorgeous. I should’ve been more careful with my list of bodyguard requirements and requested a nongorgeous type.

  He cocks his head. “How am I what you hope
d?”

  I gesture with both hands around his massive shoulders and biceps. “Jacked.”

  “Funny. Jack is my brother.”

  I laugh a little. “I meant—”

  “I know what you meant. I like to keep fit in my line of work. Prevents injuries.”

  I nod. “Makes perfect sense. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable, talking about your muscles.” My cheeks flame. God, Harper, could you be a worse boss, ogling your new employee?

  He gives me a panty-melting smile, his teeth flashing white against a sexy five-o’clock shadow. “I’m perfectly comfortable.”

  I’m dying here.

  This is not at all embarrassing.

  “Good,” I say softly.

  Our gazes lock. I’m enthralled, aching to get closer. The attraction is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. If we had an on-screen chemistry test, the director would go nuts for us as a couple. You need him. Don’t screw this up. I can’t look away, caught in something more powerful than myself. Oh, God, it’s mutual. The attraction is mutual. Ah, hell.

  I tear my gaze away, scrambling to figure out how to navigate a professional relationship when I’m as lusty as a teenager coming face-to-face with my crush. And my crush is into it.

  “What do you like to do when you’re not working?” he asks.

  I attempt to sound casual and normal. “I love books and music, especially live performances.”