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  BLURB

  Charlotte Burnside’s safe, comfortable world is forever changed after she and her two besties witness a mob murder. Now, the only way out is to go into hiding with a former Navy SEAL who terrifies her almost as much as the bad guys. Easton Yates is just so big, so tough, so…distractingly attractive. Posing as newlyweds, the two head to Florida for their “honeymoon.” The boundaries for their fake marriage are clear: Act like a couple in public, but in the privacy of their hotel room, it’s all business. However, it isn’t long before the lines between fake and real begin to blur, and Charlotte finds herself falling for the big guy. But Easton lives in a dangerous world that frightens Charlotte to her core. A world she’s not sure she can be part of…

  Easton has never acted on an attraction to any client, but there’s just something about Charlotte that’s threatening to break the promise he made to himself to keep things strictly professional. The woman he thought was completely vulnerable turns out to be tougher than he expected—and far more difficult to resist than he could have imagined. Keeping Charlotte safe is his main concern, but keeping her happy starts to overtake his priorities. He decides he needs her in his life—forever. But with danger swirling all around them, can he convince Charlotte that life with him is what she needs most?

  Grab your copy of Protecting His Fake Wife

  Available April 29th, 2021

  (Available for Pre-Order Now)

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  Charlotte carefully folded the dove gray tank top and packed it neatly into her suitcase. It wasn’t exactly beach material, but she didn’t have a lot of options. Her summer wardrobe was light. Hell, her wardrobe-wardrobe was light.

  She wondered where they were going exactly. The Aegis Security team—the bodyguards Nicole had hired once the threats started coming in—had said Charlotte’s “safe house” would be in Florida. Nothing else, just Florida. And to pack light.

  At least she was good at that. Packing light and quick and heading out to parts unknown without a single glance behind her. Heaven knew she had enough practice.

  Charlotte shook that thought off, tried to ignore the sick, heavy feeling of dread that had cloaked her since the very first email. It got worse with every new message that arrived. Every new threat. Every new photo that showed how closely the killer was watching her. Maybe more than just the killer—maybe a whole team of people. The police believed Zak’s shooting was connected to the mafia. Whoever the killer was, there seemed to be an entire network that didn’t want him to be found—and that was determined to frighten the witnesses into silence. Sometimes, it felt like the fear would never end. And that was why she had to leave, had to drop off the map with her newly hired bodyguard and lie low until the killer was caught at last.

  She cast a look around her apartment—the small alcove she’d turned into a reading nook, the soft double bed that she’d draped with mosquito netting, the pokey kitchen with the temperamental appliances. It wasn’t the fanciest apartment, but it was hers. It was home. She hated the thought of walking away from it—something she’d already done too many times in her life.

  Well, this time was going to be different. She was leaving, but this time she’d be coming back. She just didn’t know when.

  It’s going to be all right. Nicole was confident that the Aegis Security team would be able to protect them. She knew one of the founders—apparently, he was her ex, the famous Michael that Charlotte had never met but had heard about so often. While their relationship hadn’t ended on the best note, Nicole still trusted him above and beyond anyone else to keep her and her son safe. And she trusted Michael’s partners to protect Holly and Charlotte.

  Charlotte couldn’t pretend she was thrilled with this whole plan—leaving her home, going off with a stranger—but if Nicole said that this was the only way to keep harm from themselves and their loved ones, then Charlotte believed her. Whatever situation she’d have to face in Florida, she’d deal with it. Charlotte knew how to adapt. Lord knew, she had enough practice.

  Charlotte packed her two pairs of shorts, then the yellow sandals she’d uncovered at a thrift shop last spring, and the breezy sundress she’d gotten last fall in an Everything Summer Must Go sale and hadn’t yet had a chance to wear. The key was focusing on the next step. And then the one after that. Pack her clothes, underwear. Fuzzy socks for the hotel room—because air conditioning always made her feet too cold. Don’t forget her toothbrush or comb. Don’t think about the why. Why they had to do this, why someone out there was threatening to kill her and her friends, because they had seen what they’d seen, and gone to the police. Don’t think about the gunshots that still echoed in her head every time she closed her eyes.

  The knock at the door made her jump. Nerves tingled, sharp as razor blades, as Charlotte edged towards the door and peered through the peephole.

  Something entirely different tingled as she saw Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scowling, his image warped like a funhouse mirror through the peephole. Taking a breath, Charlotte undid the chain, then the bolt, and opened the door. “Hello.”

  Easton Yates stalked in, his movements smooth, intent, and focused in a way that had her edging back. He had his own suitcase in his hand. He put it down by the door, then turned to give her his full attention. “First rule—don’t open the door unless you know who’s on the other side. I could’ve come here to kill you.” His voice was brisk, with a rough edge that had that same tingle running along her skin.

  “I don’t think your boss would like that, Mr. Yates.” Charlotte saw the quick flash of surprise in his eyes. She gripped the doorknob to try to hide that her hands were shaking. “Mr. Rinaldi sent me a picture of you.”

  It didn’t do him justice. The photograph had captured the sharp cheekbones, the squared jaw, the barely restrained inky black tousle of hair that just brushed the collar of his plain black T-shirt. But it hadn’t captured the nearly brutal handsomeness, or the banked fire in those rich brown eyes. And it had been too glossy, too smooth. In person, Easton Yates didn’t seem to have any smooth edges at all.

  The expression of barely restrained annoyance was exactly the same, though. “Partner. Michael’s not my boss. Ken, Michael, and I are all equal partners in Aegis.”

  “Partner,” Charlotte amended. She felt it down to the bone as those whiskey brown eyes flicked over her once, taking her in head to toe—and then apparently dismissing her, as Easton turned to stalk through her tiny apartment, checking each room, the air vents, the lighting fixtures, every nook and cranny. Whatever he found, or didn’t find, she noticed that he’d relaxed a fraction as he strode back over to her. “It’s safe to talk. No bugs.”

  Charlotte blinked, glancing around her home. “Why would there be bugs?”

  Easton gave her an impatient look. “So someone can find out where you’re going and track you.”

  “No, I meant…” She caught herself twisting a thin white T-shirt between her hands, over and over. Charlotte forced herself to tuck it carefully into her suitcase. “If someone planted bugs here, then that would mean they know where I live. If that’s true, then why not just come and shoot me in the face?”

  Instead of answering, Easton seemed to decide to change the subject. “We’re headed to the Silver Sands Resort and Spa in Palm Beach. Our cover story is that we’re a newly married couple on our honeymoon.”

  Charlotte blinked at him, surprised. She’d been expecting an anonymous motel somewhere, not something that had resort and spa as a part of its name. And certainly not a cover story like that. “Is that standard operating procedure? Going to a fancy hotel where there’s probably going to be a lot of people?”

  “It’s not our first choice, but it’s the best of the options we had available. Trust me,” Easton said tersely. Charlotte could all but feel the impatience radiating off of him. “We need to get going. Do you have a hat? Sunglasses? We’re going to want to keep as much of your face covered as we can, especially while we’re still in New York.”

  “I think I have something.” Charlotte went to her tiny hall closet. She’d never been into hats; as a hairdresser, she’d always preferred to show off her work. But Ryan had left a few things behind after the breakup, and neither of them had cared enough to arrange a time and a place to get each other’s things back.

  Easton arched one black eyebrow when he saw the cap. “Orioles fan?”

  She tugged at it self-consciously. “Not really.” It probably wouldn’t be worth it to explain that it had belonged to an ex.

  “You ready?” It wasn’t really a question. Easton strode over, zipping her suitcase shut and then picking it up one-handed. Good thing she’d actually finished packing. She didn’t think he’d appreciate being told to wait while she picked out some more clothes.

  The weight made him arch an eyebrow. “What do you have in here? I thought Michael told you to pack light.”

  “He did. I did,” Charlotte said, fighting to keep the fog of panic at bay. She didn’t like confrontation—and she definitely didn’t enjoy being treated like she’d screwed up. The suitcase wasn’t that heavy…was it? It was probably her bath things. The special soaps and creams. She shouldn’t have packed so many—but a hot, luxurious bath was her favorite way to destress. With her stress off the charts lately, she’d wanted to make sure she’d have enough. She thought about explaining that to him—but he didn’t really seem like he was open to hearing her out.

  “Listen…” She let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to sound calm. Rational. “I’ve been thinking that…that maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Going away like this,” she rushed on, wanting to get it all out before he could object, as she instinctively knew he would. “Maybe it would be better if we just stayed here. After all, you’re a Navy SEAL—”

  “Ex.”

  “Right. Ex-Navy SEAL. But you still had all that training. You still know how to deal with a situation like this, which is why Nicole hired all of you. Which means that you can handle anything that happens. What do we accomplish by going away? How long will we have to be gone? There’s no guarantee that the police will ever find whoever is behind this. Even if they do, it could take weeks—months. What do we do if that happens? We can’t just stay at this resort, pretending to be newlyweds forever. Where do we go?”

  “Let me worry about that,” Easton said, stalking back over to the door and picking up his own suitcase with his free hand. “You have a purse or something?”

  Charlotte could hear her heartbeat echoing like ocean waves, and her vision was tunneling a little. It’s fine. You’re fine. You can handle this. It was just a little too familiar, that was all. She’d told herself she was past all this—packing up at a moment’s notice and having to leave everything behind—told herself it enough that she’d started to believe it. “I’m sorry. I need a minute.”

  “We don’t have a minute,” Easton told her.

  Charlotte nodded. She knew that. But this had all happened so fast. She wanted, desperately, just one moment to stop and think. She trusted Nicole—she did—but Charlotte also wasn’t entirely sure that the guy you had a crush on in high school should be the most relevant metric for picking a security company.

  All right, so that wasn’t entirely fair. Michael had been a lot more than a crush to Nicole. And from what Holly had been able to dig up, Nicole had been right to say that Aegis Security knew what they were doing.

  And right now? Aegis Security was doing them a pretty huge favor.

  Charlotte had done a little digging of her own, too. She didn’t have Holly’s skills with a computer, but it wasn’t that difficult to look up how much hiring a personal protection team like this would cost and realize that the rate they were getting was well below industry standard. The salon had been doing well this past year, but even considering that, the best they could afford was nowhere near what it would cost to hire a team like this. Walking away and finding someone else wasn’t an option. But going to Florida and pretending to be this man’s wife? Was that really the smartest choice they could make?

  “Look.” Easton set down the suitcases. To her surprise, there was no trace of impatience in his voice. She looked up at him. Something in those warm brown eyes steadied her, eased some of the terrible, numbing fear. “I know this isn’t easy. But you need to trust me. I can keep you safe, if you listen to me. And what I’m telling you, with absolute certainty, is that Florida is where we need to be. Can you trust that I’m telling you the truth?”

  Charlotte let out a long breath. And nodded. Easton picked up their suitcases and held the door open for her.

  She cast one long look around her apartment. Her home. Then picked up her tote bag. “Let’s go.”

  Grab your copy of Protecting His Fake Wife

  Available April 29th, 2021

  (Available for Pre-Order Now)

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  BLURB

  Retired Navy SEAL, Clint Backwater, enjoys his solitary life as owner of the Ask Questions Later gun range. It’s the kind of place you find because you know a guy. So when Leila Ortiz, a petite woman with a “baby on board” sticker on the back of her car—and an 18-month-old boy in her arms—shows up at the range, panicked and desperate for a gun, he knows something is wrong. Having grown up in the foster system, Clint has seen what happens when you let yourself get too invested—things get messy, people leave. He made himself a promise to never get emotionally involved again, but the former SEAL in him feels the tug to help this woman and her child.

  Leila’s ex-husband is being released from prison early on good behavior and she found out too late. He was supposed to serve five years, not two, and Leila is unprepared to protect herself and her son. She promised him they’d never run again—they’ve made a nice life for themselves and the last thing she wants to do is leave it all behind.

  When Clint refuses to give Leila a gun without lessons, she agrees to return to the range to learn. At first, Leila won’t say why she’s so desperate for protection, but when the threats from her ex escalate, it becomes clear what she’s afraid of.

  Clint is a loner. Always has been, always will be. So when Leila and her little son enter his life, it hits him—hard— maybe being alone isn’t what he needs. Still, having his solitary life disrupted when he invites the little family into his home is a bit tougher to take than he thought. With Leila and her son in danger, though, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe—even putting up with stray toys and changing a diaper or two.

  But the biggest danger might be to his heart, when it starts to look like the safest thing for Leila and her baby might be to leave her problems—and her budding relationship with Clint—behind.

  Grab your copy of Guarding the Single Mother (SEAL Endgame Book One) from

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  A quiet day on the gun range was a good day on the gun range.

  At least that was usually Clint Blackwater’s philosophy. Today, though, as he wandered around the small showroom of his business, Ask Questions Later Firearms and Training, he couldn’t seem to shake the restlessness inside him.

  If he was truthful with himself, he’d have to admit that his skittishness had nothing to do with the slow day at the range and everything to do with the approach of the one-year anniversary of his retirement from the military. Since joining the Navy right out of high school and undergoing training to become a SEAL, he’d always been a busy guy. Busy, but solitary. Relationships weren’t really his thing, platonic or otherwise. Loved ones, in Clint’s experience, had a tendency to disappear. When he’d been in the military, surrounded by his team and other colleagues every day with privacy at a minimum, he’d thought he’d appreciate the quiet peace of being alone.

  Now, though, he was lucky if he talked to six people a day, and sometimes things were a bit too… silent. Not that he was a recluse or anything. It was just living by himself out in the Nevada desert meant his penchant for self-sufficiency came in handy, even if it was lonely at times.

  Today, his buddy, Devin, was there to talk to as he checked the inventory of ammunition and firearms and accessories for the umpteenth time. Ask Questions Later provided him with a livable income between the sales of stock and the fees he charged locals for using the gun range and for shooting lessons, but he wouldn’t be making the Forbes 500 list any time soon. That was okay. After seeing the worst humanity had to offer during his stint in the SEALs, and prior to that as a kid growing up in the foster care system, Clint was fine with making enough to get by. He didn’t need to be rich. He didn’t need much of anything—and he liked it that way.

  Clint moved from display case to display case, noting the stock in each, while doing his best to ignore Devin chatting loudly on his cell phone. To call the other man a “buddy” was probably being generous. Devin was more like a guy who Clint talked to when he came in to shoot. They sometimes shared a meal at Ritzi’s Diner in town. That was about. Still, it was more than Clint did with most folks these days.

  He finished up marking down the sixteen boxes of .45 caliber bullets in front of him, then moved to the next glass-topped case, giving Devin some serious side-eye as he did so.

  “What do you mean she won’t go out with me?” Devin whined into his phone. The guy was pretty typical of the sort who came into the gun range. A wannabe cowboy with a Stetson on his head and a holster strapped around his waist. Nevada tended to be a haven for Mavericks and outlaws, due to the wide-open spaces and the mind-your-own-business attitude of the local law enforcement and residents. It’s what led to things like Las Vegas and the Mustang Ranch and dudes like Devin who fancied themselves Billy the Kid reborn. “I’m everything she said she wanted in her online dating profile.”