Protecting La Catrina
Sarah's Other Books
- 34. Protecting La Catrina
- 33. The Last Billionaire
- 32. The Billionaire Fake Fiancé
- 31. Once Upon a Midnight Kiss
- 30. The Billionaire Hockey Star
- 29. The Billionaire Champion
- 28. Intentionally in Love: A Sweet Rom Com Series Starter Collection
- 27. The Billionaire Smokejumper
- 26. Taming Her Billionaire Cowboy Fake Fiancé
- 25. Capsizing Her Billionaire Boss
- 24. The Terrence Family Romance Collection
- 23. Saving Her Football Star
- 22. Forgiving Her Chef
- 21. Finding Her Cowboy
- 20. Sarah's Football Collection
- 19. Christmas Brides Collection
- 18. Her Guardian Boss Fake Fiancé
- 17. The Billionaire Patriot
- 16. The Patient Patriot
- 15. Her Reluctant Boss
- 14. Four Loves
- 13. Third Time’s a Charm
- 12. Second Chance
- 11. First Glance
- 10. The Protective Patriot
- 9. The Gifted Groom
- 8. Park City Firefighter Romance Collection
- 7. Engaged by Christmas
- 6. Love by Christmas
- 5. Her Country Star Fake Fiancé
- 4. The Storybook Groom
- 3. The Forbidden Groom
- 2. The Spark of a Kiss
- 1. Twisted Timber
Staying alive while you're protecting a selfish billionaire, especially one they call La Catrina, or death herself, is easy when you're an ex special operator, right?
Not with this death woman.
After a year of protecting self-serving billionaires, Gunnar was ready to retire. When the protection detail of his life lands in his lap, he can't refuse the offer. The catch—his client is the heir to a multi-billion-dollar fortune born from blood money.
Nathalia doesn't need a bodyguard... until she realizes she's the one being hunted, and by more sinister monsters than those who attacked Gunnar. She'd never dreamt she would be the one saving his life. Will working together save both their lives and build on the love that's growing between them, or will their feelings for each other drive them farther into the hands of their hunters?
Books in the Billionaire Bodyguard Romance Series:
A woman's scream pierced the icy air. Gunnar held his breath. He'd heard that sound before. It hadn't come from a woman. And it had nearly ended his life.
No, it had to be her. With renewed energy, he set off at a sprint toward the sound. After having spent the past two hours searching in whiteout conditions, she was finally within earshot. Heavy snow clung to his boots, slowing his progress. He couldn't fail her a second time. With visibility limited to two feet and her watch no longer sending her location, she could be anywhere.
"Help," came the rasp of labored speech, barely audible through the sleeting wind. "Please. I don't want to die."
He slowed to a walk. She's close.
"Where?" he yelled, wiping melting ice from his brow with the back of his hand before it could seep into his eyes again. His pantleg caught on a branch. Pressing his open palm down his leg to release himself, his hand met something warm and slippery. Blood.
His breath fragmented. He stared down at his drenched hand. Her blood. His gut twisted. With all the death he'd seen—he'd caused—it never got easy to have blood on his hands.
"Help," she repeated. "I'm," Gasp. "—drowning." Her voice creaked against the night wind like eerie footsteps walking across an old wooden floor.
Scrambling onto his hands and knees, Gunnar swept his arms through the snow until he hit a rigid leg. The pit in his stomach grew as a single thought repeated in his mind, it was my job to keep her alive.
Her limp body lifted with ease. He pressed his ear to her chest. Her respirations came slow and jagged, but at least she was still breathing. Barely. He shifted his weight and set off at a sprint for his snowmobile. Its single headlight directed him through the stormy, moonless night.
He'd only gained a few more yards before his knees seared in pain. He had to make it to his sled. He'd done this before; he'd carried a hundred-fifty-pound log through relentless, dense sand while shivering to the bone. This time she was the one shivering. His knees hadn't healed completely from their last surgery but at least there weren't instructors waiting to pummel and dogpile him the second he dropped his weight. It could always be worse; he knew that from experience. Deployments to the Middle East after BUDS made his time in San Diego feel like a day at the beach.
It was a miracle he'd found her. With the growing light from his snowmobile, he could finally see her face. He peered down, hoping to find her alert. Her normally flushed cheeks blended into the ashen snow and her facial muscles pulled taut and distorted from pain.
Her expression relaxed suddenly. "Thank you," she breathed out. "I can sleep now."
Last stage of hypothermia. Or worse. Fear robbed him of all rational thought. He restrained himself from violently shaking her to prevent her from slipping into a coma. He laid her down, ripped off his puffer jacket and gently wrapped her in it. He should have thought of giving her his coat earlier. His head was normally much clearer in life-or-death situations.
"Stay with me!" he yelled. He wouldn't repeat the other motivational chants he used to shout at his team. "Stay awake!" The thought of losing her caused his chest muscles to spasm.
Three weeks ago, when she'd entered his life, he hadn't thought himself capable of loving, much less feeling this. Foreign. It was something he hadn't felt since... Never. She might never know the impact she'd had on him.
Light appeared in the distance, followed by the familiar whirr of an angry engine, pressed to its maximum speed. A snowmobile circled the spot where her blood saturated the fresh white snow. His fingers curled into fists, but he was in no condition to fight. They had come back to finish her off. Correction: They'd come back to finish them off. The hunt was still on.