Falling For Her Bodyguard. Amy Vastine

Falling For Her Bodyguard - Amy  Vastine


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Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

      Note to Readers

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Dedication

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

       Excerpt

       About the Publisher

       CHAPTER ONE

      “OH, NO. NOT AGAIN.”

      “They were here when I got in. I was going to warn you, but I didn’t want to ruin your morning.”

      Kelly Bonner snatched the bright pink envelope that stuck out of the humongous bouquet of multicolored roses that overwhelmed the small office space at K104 Radio with their scent. She pulled out the card, knowing it wouldn’t shed much light on the sender. The flowers weren’t the first gift from an anonymous admirer to arrive at the radio station.

       Pink symbolizes the happiness I feel when I think of you.

       Lavender represents my love at first sight.

       White reminds me of your purity.

       Orange is for the deep desire I feel.

       Red symbolizes the love we’ll share FOREVER.

      A chill ran down her spine. Romantic words if they had been written by someone Kelly was in love with or even knew. These weren’t from a boyfriend. Kelly didn’t have one.

      Another gift. Another note about them being in love. First, it had been the singing candy gram. She thought it was a joke, a prank courtesy of someone at the station. Then came the chocolate-covered strawberries, the earrings and the bottle of perfume. Something about these gifts and notes made her blood run cold.

      She tossed the card down on the desk.

      “No name again?” Nancy Oliver was the station’s production assistant and Kelly’s best friend. They had bonded when Nancy started as an intern around the same time Kelly landed her job as the afternoon on-air personality for the biggest country station in Nashville.

      “Of course not. This guy wants to remain as creepy as he can.” Kelly tried to shake off the eerie feeling that overcame her every time one of these anonymous gifts showed up.

      “I thought it was sort of romantic in the beginning. Now, I think it’s time to call your uncle. Maybe he can trace where the gifts are coming from, get you a name at least.”

      “My uncle Hal has bigger fish to fry than some fan with a crush.”

      Nancy adjusted her glasses. “Isn’t the advantage of having a cop for an uncle that he can scare away the stalkers?”

      “He’s not a stalker. And knowing my uncle, I’d have a twenty-four-hour armed guard following me around for the rest of my life if he heard what was going on.” Kelly’s uncle was a captain for the Metropolitan Nashville Police Department. He was also extremely overprotective, always had been, but his sense of obligation to watch over her increased tenfold when Kelly’s dad died three years ago.

      “When I was little, I wanted to be so famous that I’d have to have a bodyguard who would clear a path for me through the throngs of wild fans who would always be trying to get to me,” Nancy said.

      “I only want fans who let me come to them through the radio. No bodyguard needed.” What Kelly needed was this guy to reveal himself so she could let him down easy and be done with the gifts. “I have a show to do. Feel free to take those home with you or throw them away. I don’t care which,” Kelly said, gathering her notes for today’s show.

      “Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. How are we this fine afternoon?” Stan Benson was the station’s promotion director. His thinning blond hair was parted to best maximize coverage of his growing bald spot. “We have the first round of charity concert tickets to give away today. And good news... They agreed to let you onstage to kick things off.”

      “Me? Not Travis and Holly?” Travis and Holly were the morning team, who were usually assigned the fun promotional gigs.

      “When I talked to Dean Presley over at Grace Note, he said they were hoping you would do it. You always treat their artists well when they come in here for some press. He likes you. And why wouldn’t he? You’re our rising star.”

      She liked the sound of that.


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