Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
A soldier searching for redemption.
A man addicted to control.
And the woman caught between them…
Ean Shephard knows trouble when he sees it and Olive Creed is the kind of trouble that can burn his whole world down. As Collin Creed’s baby sister, she’s completely off-limits. But her quiet strength, combined with her sad vulnerability, keeps pulling him closer. Shep came to Edge Security to escape his past, but falling for Olive could ruin his second chance and the fragile peace he’s fought so hard to find.
Brose Sinclair has always played the long game. He and Olive are more than just partners inside the shadow organization they both work for, they’re lovers. His absolute authority keeps her on track and Olive likes it that way. But her sudden attraction to their target threatens everything they’ve worked for and for the first time, Brose finds himself questioning whether control is enough to keep Olive by his side.
Olive Creed has spent her life learning to play her role perfectly. She can’t afford to mess up. Not with Brose watching her every move, looking for mistakes. Mistakes she sometimes makes on purpose just to spur on his titillating punishment. But as she starts to fall for her target and her world begins to crumble beneath her feet, Olive finds herself wondering—which one of these two men would truly be there in her darkest hour?
Brose—the one who owns her mind?
Or Shep—the one who wants her heart?
The Danger in the Damaged is a battlefield of betrayal and control, where loyalty is a weapon and obsession takes no prisoners. It’s a best-friend’s-little-sister romance caught in the crossfire of dark secrets and mind games—and this time, Collin Creed isn’t the one calling the shots.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1 - Olive
Ambrose Sinclair stares down at me with an intensity that would’ve frightened the Olive of yesterday. His eyes are locked with mine. Dark green. Flashing. A window to the soul or a curtain drawn to conceal the shadows?
I’ve often wondered.
His face is the kind of symmetrical that people like. Square jaw framed in stubble that has been groomed to perfection and hair just a bit too long to be considered professional—tousled and with a slight curl, so it comes off as unruly.
Unruly is a good way to describe Brose. I suspect people who don’t know him might mistake this unruliness as rebellion, but I don’t.
It’s just his wild side.
Which is my favorite side of Mr. Sinclair here.
“Who are you?” His words come out with authority and conviction.
“A badass,” I reply.
It’s not the right answer, but he smiles. Even chuckles a little. “Of course, you’re a badass. I’m looking for the literal answer.”
“Olive Creed.”
“And what does Olive Creed do?” His thumb strokes my cheek as eyes dance with the invitation for mischief that I just handed him.
But this time I give what he asked for instead of what he wants. Which is a serious conversation. “Olive Creed is the consummate professional. She’s the protagonist in her own story. A hero in her own adventure.” This was not the scripted answer, but Brose is happy with my improvisation because that curtain covering the soul beyond his eyes opens a little and I get a tiny peek of the man inside.
That’s the one I work with.
The one I sleep with.
The one I love.
Picking up my ‘story theme’, Brose continues to prep me for the meeting. “Prologue…”
“Olive Creed is a sad little girl. Age eight. Brother leaves for the marines. Father goes crazy about it. Mother starts drinking.”
He makes a pouty frown at me. “I hate that past you’re dragging around.”
“Me too. But Chapter one turns it all around.”
“So this isn’t a story about sad little Olive Creed?”
“Not in the least. This is the story of powerful, grown-up Olive Creed who is ready to take on the world.”
His smile is big now. And he takes a few moments to stare at me. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”
I do. I suppose. I’ve looked in the mirror and I’ve got all the components of a beautiful woman. Thin, but not in a weak and wispy way. Long blonde hair that has a bit of wave to it, hazel eyes, though they lean gray mostly, and an attractive face that gives off a ‘Clean Girl’ vibe.
“You’re gonna knock them dead with those looks,” Brose continues. “Play it up.”
Play it up. I nod. “You got it.”
The only thing on my mind as I enter the conference room and take my seat at the table is main-character energy. I lean sideways into my chair to artfully display my short skirt and long legs, and tip my chin up to look around.
Every man stops talking to watch. It’s one second of silence, and then all the conversations resume, but it’s a very satisfying one second. Mostly because it’s probably the most focused attention I’ll get from them all day. In a few minutes, the meeting will start and then everything will be about the other me. Not the one sitting here in real life, but the one on paper.
Not that I care that they won’t see me. Today is the beginning of everything. A new life. A step forward. A bit of freedom.
“All right, everyone, take your seats and let’s get started.” If I came into the room with main-character energy, Brose enters with the big-dick variety. His eyes are locked on mine when he slaps a two-inch-thick file down in front of his chair at the head of the table, and then he gives me an almost imperceptible wink.
But I catch it. And since I know what that wink means, a tingling sensation begins to build between my legs.
At twenty-seven, he’s the youngest man in this room. But he’s also the one who called this meeting so all the others quiet down and take their places without comment. A few moments later, the lights go out and a short film plays.
Three minutes. The last twelve years of my life play out in a three-minute summary. Six bullet points, seventeen photos, one thirty-second clip of my skills, and a short monologue—voiced over by me, of course—to sum it all up. “I’m ready,” the young woman on the screen insists. “I’ve been trained by the best and I have proven myself to be meticulous, hardworking, and loyal. Thank you for your time.”
The lights come on, the men murmur for a few moments, and then Brose asserts his dominance by clearing his throat and diving straight into his carefully planned presentation. “Gentlemen.” Brose pans a hand towards me. “Meet Olive Creed, SIO 2.0.”