The Colonel's Daughter by Amy Andrews
Publication Date: August 10, 2015
Ivy Danforth is out from under her Colonel father's overprotective control, and she's making it count. Big time. She's taken the summer off to travel through Australia with her bestie and experiencing all that life has to offer—when you’re not under constant military surveillance. She wants to end her summer with some sexy fun, and she has just the hottie in mind.Seth Rodrigo is ex-Special Forces working undercover and keeping an eye on Ivy as a special favor to her father. All he has to do is not give the game away and reveal who he really is. And especially not give into the hunger that's burning through his careful control... Then they're forced into protective custody. Alone. Together. For four days. And this time, the Colonel's daughter isn't taking no for an answer...
Ivy pulled her T-shirt over her head and wiggled gently out of her pajama shorts, placing them
both on the vanity. She looked at her reflection, something which she’d avoided till this point, and eyed herself critically. Standing there in nothing but her white cotton fig-leaf underwear it was the same as it had always been.
“Never going to be a Flamenco dancer,” she whispered.
Even if she did have the figure for it and knew how to dance the damn thing, the world wasn’t ready for Snow White the Flamenco Dancer with pink hair.
God, her hair. Bed hair times 100. What a freaking mess.
She raised her hand to push it back into some kind of order clipping the glass tumbler on the way up, knocking it off the vanity. She cried out, trying to reach it in time, but it was too late. She sprang back as it smashed on the tiles louder than a sonic boom in the still of the night.
Ivy froze, staring at it dumbfounded, not even the bite of tiny splinters of glass speared into her shins registering as she stared at the mess blankly for long moments, her heart thundering.
Maybe he hadn’t heard it?
“Ivy!” The door knob rattled. “Ivy!”
Or maybe he had.
Ivy scrambled to bring coherency to her thoughts. To open her mouth and say something. Tell him she was okay. That it was just a broken glass. But nothing seemed to come out in those confusing seconds as time slowed right down and she watched in horror as the door came crashing in with a loud bang.
Dean stood there like an avenging angel, his stance wide, knees bent, his fisted hands held up and out from his body, the muscles in his forearms and biceps coiled tight like a ninja primed to spring.
If he was just a bouncer she’d eat her hat.
The pain in Ivy’s hip faded away completely. Their gazes met and held briefly before his dropped
lower, landing squarely on her chest.
Her very naked chest.
He stared at it, the sound of his breathing loud in the silence, his nostrils flaring as a tiny flicker of something lit his eyes. It looked a lot like desire and Ivy’s nipples tingled and ruched shamelessly in blatant response before she remembered she was practically naked in front of him and
her common sense returned with an almighty wallop.
“Dean!” Ivy gasped her cheeks heating as she folded her arms over her chest and turned her back to him. “Get out!”