My Mile High Bodyguard: Mile High Club Series, #1

By Kellen Knox

I never saw myself joining the Mile High Club, but too many vodka crans and a hot stranger is a recipe for fun.

 

Crazy, uninhibited fun.

 

No one will ever know and I'll never see the guy again, I tell myself.

…Not so fast.

 

When an intruder trashes my NYC penthouse, my father is convinced that my ex is seeking revenge.

 

His solution? Hire a bodyguard to protect me. 

 

Enter Britton Baker, decorated Green Beret and the owner of an elite security firm.

To my horror, he's also the mystery man I knocked boots with in the airplane lavatory. 

 

One thing's for sure... he puts the special in Special Forces.

 

Now I'm being jetted off to the safe haven of my father's resort in Mexico -- Paradise Grande -- only it ain't so grand.

 

My sexy bodyguard is now being Mr. Professional and has walls up that rival Ft. Knox.

 

But there's trouble in paradise, and soon it becomes clear that my stalker will stop at nothing to hurt me.

 

This ex-soldier has done a recon mission on my heart, but I fear he'll go AWOL when he learns my secret.

 

*My Mile High Bodyguard is a Prequel Novella and the first book in the 5-book Mile High Club Series. If you love Military ~ Bodyguard ~ Billionaire ~ Mafia Romance, this Romantic Suspense series is for YOU! So many HOT TROPES in this SIZZLING collection that you won't want to put down! For the most enjoyable reading experience, I recommend reading the books in order -- you will fall in love with the characters!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kellen Knox
• Release date: May 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227050403

Book preview

My Mile High Bodyguard

Kellen Knox

Copyright © 2024 Kellen Knox

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, website, or broadcast.

Manufactured in the United States of America

First printing edition 2024.

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 1

Another flight, another day of hauling my ass around the country to make the big bucks. I admit I’m a workaholic. Whether it’s in my DNA, or a character flaw, or a virtue doesn’t matter. It’s just me.

I don’t want to be one of those trust fund bimbos who relies on Daddy’s money. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that he paid for my education at the most prestigious design school in the country. I’m grateful for the life I was born into and I realize how lucky I am. But I still want to prove myself. I want my father to see that I’m strong, smart, driven, and capable.

Pops always used to say, My girls will not get a free ride, or a free pass, or even a free lunch in my house. They will get their hands dirty. In Santiago’s Kingdom, college was mandatory and name-dropping would not fly.

At first glance, my sisters and I would probably be labeled as spoiled rich kids because we had nannies, cooks, and housekeepers and lived in a sprawling estate. But behind closed doors, the man ran a tight ship, set the bar high and we knew not to cross him. At the end of the day, we knew we were loved and that he would always be our provider, our protector, and our refuge.

I want my dad to see me as the capable and intelligent businesswoman that I am. I’ve been managing my own successful fashion line, Obsession, for years. My sister Antonia came up with the name and I have to agree, it was spot on. I love what I do and I work hard so I can play hard. But after this rough week on the road, I can’t wait to land, find the bar closest to my departure gate and toss a few back.

And just like that, we’re landing. I can almost taste that vodka cranberry, and then the next, and maybe one more. Just enough to chill me the hell out but keep me from being booted from my next flight for being too drunk to board.

Life is all about balance.

Sadly, passengers that don’t get the balance thing threaten to ruin it for the rest of us. I keep waiting for breathalyzers to pop up at boarding gates one of these days, thanks to all the assholes that can’t handle their liquor and do dumb shit on airplanes.

I deplane and travel up the ramp and into the main part of the airport. Chicago. Thank God… one more flight and I’m home. The Big Apple has been calling my name and it’s now within sight. My company should have a car waiting for me and I’ll be home within the hour, stripping out of my business attire and embracing my alter ego in relaxation mode.

The Louboutins and bra are always the first things to go and in record time I’ll be parked on the couch in shorts, old T-shirt and barefoot with a glass of wine in one hand and the TV remote in the other.

I don’t even care what I land on to binge watch, as long as it distracts me from work and all the drama plaguing my life these days. Mainly, Jack — though Jackass is much more fitting. The narcissist that almost ruined my life. Thankfully, that bottom feeder is done. Out of sight, out of mind. What a dick.

I drag my carry-on and hoist my laptop bag over my shoulder. I’ve got a little over an hour before my flight boards. I head for my gate which, of course, is at the opposite end of where I’m at, so I have a long ass walk ahead of me. Not ideal for the stilettos I’m wearing.

As I groan for my tired, aching feet, I’m half tempted to stop in one of those Express Spa places that are starting to pop up in the bigger airports. But I opt for the booze. Shocker. I think I need the drinks more than I need my little piggies pampered. Plus, they gouge the shit out of their prices and I’d rather spend $50 on a few drinks than $100 for a booze-less pedi.

See, that’s why I make the big bucks. Always thinking.

I pass bars and restaurants, some happy couples, some loners like me, and they all look the same eventually. A blur of people going places or coming home. It hardly matters at this point, and sometimes I forget which category I’m in.

I find my gate and spot a classy lounge and dim lighting. I enter and drop my bags to the floor as I climb onto a barstool and jump right in.

Vodka cran, please, I tell the girl behind the bar. She nods, and her ponytail swings as she turns to grab a glass, filling it with ice and booze. She slides the drink across the bar top and asks if I need to open a tab.

I nod as I down the first and push the glass back to her.

Been that kind of day, huh? She chuckles and refills my drink and adds a new slice of lime to mingle with the first.

Can’t be over soon enough. I throw the second one back, thinking this is the best thing to cross my lips in my entire life.

Care to wait just a few minutes for another? she asks, trying to be a good bartender and keep me from overdoing it.

I figure she could lose her job if I crawl out of here and try to make it onto my flight, so I agree to take a breather for a few minutes. She hands me a menu as a quiet suggestion.

Maybe I should eat if I’m going to continue to drink like an idiot.

I’m really not hungry after the late lunch meeting I had, but I pretend to look it over anyway. She knows I’m not going to order. We understand each