Page 1 of In Bed with Her Billionaire Bodyguard

PROLOGUE

LUCACALVINOSATtrying not to stare at the man in the hospital bed attached to more monitors than Luca had seen in his entire life. That the man was Nate Harcourt, billionaire businessman and barely a few years from Luca’s own age of thirty-three, was mildly disconcerting.

‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’

‘It looks pretty bad,’ Luca replied truthfully.

‘It’s not.’

‘Okay.’

The private hospital in Switzerland was as luxurious as some of the finest hotels Luca had ever had the pleasure of staying in and the security was top-notch, as it should be. Large windows looked out onto a wintry forest fit for a fairy tale. Warm leather and wood accents decorated the room that might look like the lounge of some metropolitan apartment but hid almost half a million euros’ worth of medical equipment to suit any emergency.

‘Pegaso has a pretty impressive portfolio for such a young company,’ Nathanial Harcourt said, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.

‘Is ten years that young?’ Luca enquired with a hint of sarcasm, disliking that he was only slightly rising to the Englishman’s bait.

‘It is when you have a family business that spans four hundred.’

‘Fair point,’ Luca conceded. Until a year ago, Nathanial Harcourt had been the rising star of the business world. He might have come from so much family money it reeked of established nepotism, had what he’d done with it not become legendary. But then he’d disappeared off the face of the planet—reportedly to go and find himself in Goa.

This was a far cry from Goa.

‘Cancer?’ he asked, curious as to what Nate would choose to tell him.

There was a moment; an appraisal between two dominant men.

‘Aneurism. Cerebral.’

Luca nodded, unable to stop his eyebrows rising in surprise and reassessing the man in front of him. The upper part of the hospital bed was raised, across which hung a half table on a metal arm that was doing an excellent job of supporting what looked like an office’s worth of paperwork and a laptop within Nate’s reach.

‘Pegaso’s revenue was significant last year, not such an easy thing to do in today’s economic climate. You have contracts through the majority of mainland Europe with several businesses, including this,’ Nate stated, his hand opened to gesture to the hospital they were in—a discreet medical facility that employed the best of the best to those who needed the utmost privacy. Luca knew this because, as Nathanial had noted, Pegaso oversaw the security of the entire facility.

‘I’m familiar with my CV.’

‘But you haven’t managed to break into any English-speaking markets.’

‘It’s funny,’ Luca said with a gentle shoulder shrug, ‘I would have thought that as a businessman who sits on three boards, is the CEO of two more, and isveryhigh up in your own family business, you’d have a little more common sense than to alienate someone you are about to ask a favour from.’

‘It’s not a favour, it’s an offer.’

The discreet monitor trilled sharply and Luca didn’t miss the wince of pain and the jerk of Nate’s hand as if he’d wanted to press it against his head, but wouldn’t concede to such an open display of pain. Stubborn. Luca could respect that.

‘Spill, before it’s time for more meds,’ Luca said.

‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’

‘Keep telling yourself that.’

Nate managed a smirk and the beeping on the monitor settled again.

‘I need you to protect my sister.’

Nate pointed at a folder on the half table and Luca stood to retrieve it. He had no problem verbally sparring with the English billionaire, but he had no intention of degrading the man by making him reach for it himself. A cerebral aneurism was no joke.

Luca opened the folder: Hope Harcourt, twin sister of Nathanial Harcourt, twenty-nine years old, single, Director of Marketing for Harcourts, the world’s leading luxury department store. He sat back, looking at pictures of a blonde with delicate features. Although Hope and Nathanial Harcourt were twins, there was no more than a normal sibling similarity between them. His eyes grazed over high cheekbones and fine hair, working hard not to be distracted by the bolt of attraction that struck him hard. He purposely ignored the dark, espresso rich eyes that seemed to pick at his focus and pushed aside the pictures and bio, to pick up the press articles in the back.

More Than Just a Pretty Face? Hope Announced as Harcourts’ Marketing Director.

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