My dragon bodyguard, p.1
My Dragon Bodyguard, page 1
My Dragon Bodyguard
Broken Souls 4
Alisa Woods
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READING ORDER
Dot Com Wolves
* * *
Claiming Mia (Book 1)
Saving Arianna (Book 2)
A Christmas Wish (Book 3)
Riverwise Private Security
* * *
Jaxson (Book 1)
Jace (Book 2)
Jared (Book 3)
Wilding Pack Wolves
* * *
Wild Game (Book 1)
Wild Love (Book 2)
Wild Heat (Book 3)
Wild One (Book 4)
Wild Fire (Book 5)
Wild Magic (Book 6)
Fallen Immortals
* * *
Kiss of a Dragon (Book 1)
Heart of a Dragon (Book 2)
Fire of a Dragon (Book 3)
Chosen by a Dragon (Book 4)
Seduced by a Dragon (Book 5)
Touched by a Dragon (Book 6)
Loved by a Dragon (Book 7)
Marked by a Dragon (Book 8)
Claimed by a Dragon (Book 9)
Of Bards and Witches: Leonidas’s Story (Book 10)
Fallen Angels
* * *
A Deadly Sin (Book 1)
Guardian of Light (Book 2)
The Sin of Wrath (Book 3)
Seraphim (Book 4)
Prince of Shadow (Book 5)
Tempted: Tajael’s Story (Book 6)
Kiss of an Angel: A Christmas Story (Book 7)
Legal Magick
* * *
Ever Strange (Book 1)
Mercy Strange (Book 2)
Verity Strange (Book 3)
Broken Souls
* * *
My Dragon Lord (Book 1)
My Dragon Keeper (Book 2)
My Dragon Mate (Book 3)
My Dragon Bodyguard (Book 4)
My Dragon Lover (Book 5)
My Dragon Master (Book 6)
Akkan (Book 7)
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My Dragon Bodyguard (Broken Souls 4)
Copyright © March 2020 by Alisa Woods
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author. For information visit: Alisa Woods
Cover by BZN Studio
My Dragon Bodyguard (Broken Souls 4)
She was abducted in the middle of the night...
Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.
Jayda doesn’t need to hear that.
And it makes Daisy cry.
But a scream is burning in my chest as they haul me to “the chair.”
My tears mean nothing.
My soft begging is pointless.
They grab my arms and legs and strap me down and put that damn wand to my head… the one that reaches inside my mind and starts tearing it apart…
We escaped that nightmare—Jayda, Daisy and me—and now I just want my life back to normal. Forget those crazy aliens with their pointed ears. Forget all the screams. But as soon as I step on the set—my big chance as a Guest Star in a new medical drama—all of it comes rushing back. If it weren’t for that hot new Production Assistant, I’d probably be in a psych ward by now.
The Universe is finally giving me a break.
Grace is desperate to put her life back together. Theo will do anything to keep her safe and help her heal… except tell her who he really is. And how he’s the reason she was taken in the first place.
My Dragon Bodyguard is a steamy dragon shifter romance that’ll heat up the sheets with love and warm your heart with dragonfire.
One
Grace
I huddle in the corner, curled up, trying to stop the shaking.
“It’s just the cold.” My voice shakes, too. I can’t even look at the freakish, padded operating-table-like thing in the middle of the room. It’s warmer up in “the chair,” off the glass-like floor, away from the smooth, glowing walls, but no way am I climbing into that thing voluntarily.
“Grace!” The voice comes through the grate in the wall—the vent connects to the next cell. “Girl, what did you say?” I can’t see Jayda. I’ve never met her, face to face. I know her only from this place, this nightmare of a fucking place. The rich warmth of her voice is the only thing that keeps me sane.
“It’s cold,” I say, teeth chattering. But it’s not that cold. I’m losing it. “I can’t… can’t stop the… shaking.” Jayda will know what to do.
“You are strong, girl,” she insists. “We’re going to make it through this, together. Just keep talking to me. I need to hear your voice, understand? I need to know you’re okay. Talk to me, Grace.”
“I’m—” A full-body shudder stops me, then I force out, “I’m here.”
“You just keep holding tight.”
“Hold tight, Grace!” The distant voice is Daisy. She’s on the other side of Jayda’s cell. Jayda helps Daisy, too, even though they come for her just like they come for us. Jayda’s stronger than we are.
The shaking makes my foot tap, the one that’s still wearing my sneaker. I lost the other one when they kidnapped me. I’d give anything for that shoe. Classic, red Converse sneaker. Normal. Not this insanity where aliens abduct me and… and… Tap. Tappity. Tap-tap. My foot’s sending out some crazy Morse Code. H-E-L-P-M-E.
“Stop,” I beg it, but it keeps on tapping.
“Stop what, honey?”
I can’t answer. I’m focused on making my foot stop. It doesn’t.
I hear Jayda sigh through the grate. “You need some rest, that’s all. Try to sleep. I know it’s hard, but if you lean up just right against the corner—”
“Can’t stop… the shaking…” I plant my bare foot on top of the shoe, pressing it into the floor. “Stop, God damn you!” I choke on the surge of scream climbing up my throat.
“Grace.” Even Jayda’s voice sounds shook now.
Suddenly, they’re here. Two of them. They didn’t use the door with no handle, but when they do… it just disappears. And reappears. Like them. Popping out of thin air with their gangly limbs and ugly faces and those awful, pointed ears.
“Noo!” I unfurl my crumpled body and bolt away from them. There’s nowhere to go. My long hair flies all around me, blinding me in my desperate attempt to flee. One grabs me, his hands as rough as the scratchy alien words they use, telling me something I can’t understand, but it’s always the same. I thrash against his iron grip even though it’s useless. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Jayda doesn’t need to hear that. And it makes Daisy cry. But a scream is burning in my chest as they haul me to the chair.
I can’t help the little squeaks and sobs. I can’t stop the muffled cry when the mechanical pinchers come out and pin me. They never pierce the skin, just hold you in a way you know you’ll be cut to ribbons if you move. I freeze, whimpering. The aliens grab my arms and legs and strap me down. My tears mean nothing. My soft begging is pointless. But I can’t help it. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.
Then the wand is at my head. Its cold crystal tip barely touches my skin, but somehow, someway, through the magic of whatever this fucking nightmare is, it reaches inside my mind and starts tearing it apart, piece by piece…
I scream like I’m turning inside out.
TWO WEEKS LATER
“You’re wanted on the set,” the 2nd Assistant Director says, but he’s not talking to me.
There’s a dozen of us in the waiting area, and we’re all eager to get back on set, but the 2nd AD’s just here for Ainsley. Everyone relaxes their Red Alerts as the two of them huddle and whisper. What does the AD want? She’s a possible regular for the show, assuming the pilot doesn’t get canned, so maybe they’re adding lines for her? I hope my lines aren’t already out of date. And Ainsley isn’t taking my spot. I clutch my mini sides—the day’s script on half sheets of paper—a little tighter in my hand.
Ainsley heads toward the set, and the 2nd AD shuffles over to me. My heart stutters. I’m out of the folding director’s chair so fast it skids back behind me.
“You’ve been to hair and makeup, right?” he asks.
I nod quickly. “Wardrobe, too.” I smile too much because, Fuck, Grace, it’s obvious you’ve been to wardrobe. I don’t walk around the streets of New York City in scrubs. I straighten my white doctor’s coat.
The 2nd AD just checks his phone. “They’re running through lighting again. Be ready.”
I’m so ready, I’m starting to vibrate. I nod again, way too much, but he’s already heading back to the set. I flash a bright smile at the other actors around the room—be professional, be cool—but most are already back on their phones, waiting.
Waiting is what actors do best! The pep talk in my head is in overdrive. I need to dial it back and save some energy for the scene. This is important. Really important. I need to bring everything I’ve got—
“You okay?”
I jolt inside my skin and turn—who the fuck is sneaking up on me?—but it’s just one of the Production Assistants.
I plaster a smile on my face. “I’m great! Doing good. Thanks.” Oh my God, I’m g
He smiles. “You were amazing yesterday.”
“Are you serious?” I did mostly nothing yesterday. I laugh a little to burn off the nervous energy then cradle the water bottle with both hands. He must be new because I don’t recognize him. And no matter how cranked up I’ve been these last three days on set, I wouldn’t have missed a PA with those electric blue eyes. “That was like two seconds of long shot and a lounge bit. Today’s my big scene. I mean, if you thought that was amazing…” I squeeze my eyes shut. What the fuck, Grace? You’re being rude. I open my eyes, grimace, then make a desperate ploy for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? I can remember my sixth-grade lines from Pirates of Penzance, but I can’t remember names to save my soul.”
He smirks. “We’ve just met.”
“Oh, God.” I press my fingertips to my forehead, wishing there was a reboot button for my brain. Or this conversation. Possibly my entire life. “Let’s do another take, shall we?” I extend my hand. “Grace Tanaka. Otherwise known as Dr. Lily Sato, famed prodigy doctor from Johns Hopkins here to consult on a very special case. I should just stay in character. She’s much cooler than I am.”
“You seem to be doing all right.” The sweet smile returns, and whew, he’s hot. Young, probably twenty-five, so about my age, incredible bone structure, full lips, and a sexy scruff of beard even though it’s 10 o’clock in the morning. His slightly swarthy look makes me think European Male Model, but I can’t be sure what nationality. He’s beautiful enough to be a lead, which makes me second-guess if he’s really a PA.
I squint at him. “You’re an actor.”
He laughs. “I’m really not.”
“But you want to be.”
“No.”
“In your deepest, darkest fantasies… totally on stage.”
“Still no.” He’s smiling again.
I lift an eyebrow. “You’re sure you’re crew?”
“Positive.” He leans in, conspiratorial. “I’m new here. Only been on set for three days.”
I scrunch up my nose. “The set’s only been up for three days.”
He leans back and shrugs. Now I can’t tell if he’s joking or what. But this banter has drained some of the jittery energy from my body, for which I’m insanely grateful. So grateful, I feel like I should give Mr. Hotness a hug. Or possibly a thank-you handjob. After the shoot is done, of course. Except that would be highly unprofessional. And probably just my supremely-neglected libido talking. He is unnaturally gorgeous. I’m pretty sure any girl who can fog a mirror would have visions of getting on her knees in front of this guy.
I shut off the fantasies before they show up on my face. Then I make a show of unscrewing the cap of the water bottle he’s brought me. “You’re like a walking sedative.” I take a sip.
“I’m sorry?” He gives me a look like I’m half-cracked.
Which, to be honest, is a fair assessment. “I mean, you’re pretty to look at, and all, but not in a way that makes a person freak out. You’re a calming influence. Just standing next to you, I feel more settled. At peace. Kind of like Prozac.”
“Thanks?” But he’s got a laugh around those pretty blue eyes, so I’m finally hitting my stride again. And it’s true. I don’t know why or how, but he’s settling my nerves, despite the highly inappropriate sex fantasies he inspires. Maybe that’s why—distraction in the form of hotness is keeping me from spooling up about the scene.
I recap the bottle. “Okay, now that we’re best friends, you should really tell me your name.”
He flashes that smile again, and mentally, I’m on my knees, unwrapping those tight-fitting jeans like what’s inside is a present for my birthday. Holy fuck, Grace, what is wrong with you? The man is just doing his job. Leave him alone.
“Theo,” he says with a sexy mouth that I’m starting to obsess about as well.
“Just Theo? Like Beyoncé? No last name necessary?”
“Theo Wyvern.” His eyes light up. “It means dragon.”
“Your name has a meaning? That’s… special.”
He laughs, but in a cute kind of way. Cute. Hot. Calming. Exciting. This guy’s a bundle of contradictions. Then he gets serious. “It’s my family’s name. Not like I got to choose it.”
I lift both eyebrows. “Sounds like there’s a story there.” I take another sip of water and cap it again.
“Not really. Nothing you’d want to hear.” He drops his gaze like he doesn’t want to talk about it. And it kind of stabs me because I get how family can hurt—even when they’re amazing. Especially when they’re amazing. Because there’s nothing wrong with them—the thing that’s wrong is you.
“Well, we are best friends.” I hand the water bottle back to him.
“Are we?” He’s smiling with his eyes again.
I shuffle dramatically over to his side, take hold of his arm, up by the bicep, and lay my head on his shoulder. I have to lift up on my toes because he’s tall as well as gorgeous. “Have you forgotten already?”
“We literally just met.” But I can hear the laugh he’s holding back. And damn his biceps are like steel replicas of muscles under his Production Assistant black t-shirt. I resist the urge to feel him up inappropriately—is there a way I can appropriately feel him up? No—but the fantasy of peeling off his shirt just cannot be contained. He’s incredibly ripped under there. I would spend a solid two minutes just running my tongue over the contours of his body. Because hotness.
“As I was saying… best friends understand there are some things that don’t need to be discussed. Those deep, dark secrets of your past? Best friends help you bury that shit in the cemetery at midnight, am I right?” I peer up at him.
He’s grinning down at me. “Are you always like this?”
I bat my eyelashes at him. “I have no idea what you mean.” But then I release him because I really need my hands off the man or something inappropriate will happen. I smooth back Dr. Lily Sato’s supremely-professional-yet-slightly-sexy hair, which is fashioned into a knot at the top back of my head, and I pray I haven’t mussed it—Julie, the hairstylist, will murder me. “Okay, so I’m a little nervous. No chill at all. This is my first time as Guest Star.”
“And this is a pilot, right?”
“Exactly.” I pull in a breath and let it out slow, allowing the preternatural hotness of Mr. Theo Wyvern to wash over and calm me. “If the pilot is picked up, and if Lily Sato is a compelling and noteworthy character, and if they actually green-light a full season, I’ve got a shot at becoming a regular.”
“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” His blue eyes are studying me, which gives me a flush of heat and naughty thoughts, but his words are ringing an alarm bell in my head.
“It would be everything.” I sweep a scouring gaze over his headset and belt of assorted PA tools—extra battery clips, gaffer tape, and a flashlight. “Are you sure you’re a Production Assistant?” Any PA would know that being a regular is huge—second only to being lead, and obviously that’s already cast. At least for the first season. I narrow my eyes. “You’re messing with me.”
“Obviously.” But his posture stiffens.
Weird. I am being kind of touchy, though. “Sorry, I’m just…” I squeeze my hands then shake them out, trying to stave off the return of the jitters. “I’ve done work before, a lot of it, you know, commercials and background and extras. A couple minor roles, just not at this level. This is my shot, and I thought I’d missed it—”
“Missed it how?” he asks, suddenly sharp-eyed.
“Oh. Um…” I glance away, to the door of the waiting room, willing the 2nd AD to come back and tell us it’s time for the shoot. But he doesn’t appear. I look back to Theo’s too-intense scrutiny and feign nonchalance with a one-shoulder shrug. But my heart’s pounding. “I just got sick is all. I landed the role before, um, I came down with the flu and was out a couple weeks. I thought maybe I’d missed the shooting window. But then the call came through, and I hadn’t missed anything. I hurried in for the table read two days ago, and now we’re shooting, and I’m just, you know, excited!” I grin, but I’m halfway to throwing up.
