Page 1 of Saved By the Marines (Soldiers Of Misfortune)

CHAPTER1

Bailey

“Your father wants you to go get dressed for lunch.”

I flicked my sunglasses further down my nose and looked up at Jas over the rim. He was scowling down at me as I read and sunbathed next to the pool. I’d come home for summer break only to be told that I would be working for my dad for the summer and was jetted off to Colombia. My father was a U.S. Senator and I hated the idea of working in politics, but you didn’t tell my father no. I’d learned long ago to choose my battles with him.

I’d been surprised when three hunky Marines started following him around everywhere he went as soon as we got here. Imagine my irritation when they immediately began doing the same with me. Usually the Secret Service did that job when we were traveling. This time we had Marines. It was just another reminder of why I didn’t want to be here. There wasn’t ever any privacy.

Putting my book down, I lifted my arms over my head in a stretch. Jas’s scowl deepened, but I didn’t miss the way his eyes raked down my body.

He sure is easy on the eyes, even if he is always scowling. At least there are some perks to having them around.

“Tell him he can have his boring lunch without me.” Yeah right. There was no way I’d get away with ignoring an order from my father, but this guy didn’t know that. And there was just something about him—and the way he had been treating me—that made me want to annoy him. It didn’t matter that we really didn’t know each other. I just had to get under his skin.

Honestly, as soon as we’d gotten here it’d been a whirlwind of meetings and today was the first day I’d really had to relax. Spending my free time reading by the pool had unwound all the tight muscles the week had created within my body. Dad was up for re-election, and whatever his business was down here, charity or official government stuff, it was all to look good for the campaign. And it was my duty as his only daughter to help make him look good.

Jas flexed his jaw, and I had to remind myself that I had a boyfriend. Something about a man’s jaw ticking like that reminded me of the men in my romance novels. It was sexy. Not that I was the free-spirited girl in those books who chased after men. I was more at home reading about their adventures than having any of my own.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that the three men following us around were incredibly attractive. They were all tall, muscular, and had handsome faces. In fact, they all looked like they could be brothers.

“Spoiled fucking brat,” he muttered, but I heard him easily. “Get up. Get dressed. And get your ass into that dining room,” he growled.

My jaw dropped and I sat up, taking the sunglasses off fully now. “You can’t speak to me that way.” I stood up and glared at him. He’d just found the one button to push that got me to fight back. My temper. The man was tall so I had to tilt my head back a bit despite my height. I was five-eight, but he had to be six-four at least.

I wasn’t sure what his problem with me was, but I wasn’t going to just sit here and let him speak to me that way.

He took a step in closer until we were almost nose to nose—or nose to throat. “I don’t have time for you or your little rebellions with your father. Make sure you’re at that lunch, and dressed properly.” He looked me up and down, indicating that my bikini needed to be covered. I couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to take an extra second while doing so. “Or we’ll come find you, and dress you ourselves.” With that he turned and started to leave.

I looked down at my hands, they were shaking. Not from fear, but from an odd mixture of irritation and excitement. I was tempted, for a second, to not show up. Just so that hewouldcome hunt me down.And dress me.

Shaking my hands like I was drying them, I finally got the trembling to stop. Something about Jas just brought out a feisty side that wasn’t typical for me.

“In your dreams Ranger Rick.” I couldn’t seem to help it. Every time I was around this guy the urge to needle him into responding was too intense to ignore.

That stopped him. His muscled back tensed up, but he seemed to shake it off and continued on, walking away from me. That took some self-control. Rangers were Army. Marines tended to fly off the handle when you called them anything Army related. I’d seen it before.

These guys, they didn’t even try to blend in. They had on military style pants, tan t-shirts, and desert brown boots. I rolled my eyes at his back. It wasn’t hard to tell what he thought of me. He’d said it out loud. He thought I was a brat. And fine, I acted that way toward him, but that wasn’t who I was. Not when I was able to get away from this world and breathe.

I spent most of my time baking. Making grandiose desserts that would take hours of preparation, but melted on your tongue in an instant. I loved to read. To spend the quiet morning hours doing yoga. I hardly ever partied—though I liked the freedom of choosing to do so if I felt like it—and was a straight A student.

My business degree was going to go toward helping me open my own bakery. That was the life I wanted. Quiet, peaceful, not full of paparazzi constantly stalking me, trying to see what dirt they could dig up. No Secret Service, and no cranky Marines.

Deciding not to piss off Dad’s bodyguards—this time—I went upstairs to get changed. My phone rang as I was deciding on what to wear.

“Amy!” I exclaimed when I picked up the phone.

“Girl! What the heck? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a week!”

“I’m so sorry,” I told her, my mind instantly going into overdrive. “Did you not get the rent check I sent? I can wire you money now…”

Her laughter set me at ease. “I got it. I just miss my roommate and wasn’t expecting a quick voicemail that said you’d be staying in Colombia over the summer break.”

I’d met Amy my first year of college and we’d become friends almost instantly. We’d decided the next year to ditch dorms and move into a small two-bedroom apartment together. Two years later, it was still working well for us and now we were best friends.

She was the only person who knew who I really was. I had no secrets from her, so she knew all about my father. “Dad insisted,” I told her with a grim tone.

“He’s not getting my vote this year,” she replied in disgust. “He bullies you.”

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