The President's Daughter

The President's Daughter
Annette Broadrick

Mills & Boon M&B
SLEEPLESS IN THE WHITE HOUSENever falter. Never flinch. And never let anyone get too close.Steely Special Agent Nick Logan knew the rules for protecting the First Family. What he didn't know was why Ashley Sullivan, the president's all-too-distracting daughter, would balk at his assignment as her bodyguard…and sabotage his self-control.Chaste yet alluring, Ashley seemed intent on uncovering the man behind Nick's rock-hard muscles and mirrored shades. But didn't this innocent see the dangers all around her? The danger in such a man's kiss? Worse, who would protect Ashley's bodyguard…once he broke the rules? Once he got too close to the president's daughter?

The President’s Daughter

Annette Broadrick

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ANNETTE BROADRICK

believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by RT Book Reviews as one of the best new authors of that year, she has also won an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award for best in series, a W.I.S.H. Award and a Lifetime Achievement Award for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Washington, D.C.

Monday, December 21

A blast of frigid air swirled around Nick Logan, nipping at him like a hungry animal as he walked the two blocks between the parking lot and his newest assignment. He hunched his shoulders and quickened his steps until he reached the guard’s booth at the east gate.

He paused beside the booth, peering inside at the lone occupant. “Hope you have a heater in there.”

Ken White, working the uniformed division of the Secret Service, replied, “One of the many fringe benefits of this job, of course.” He gave Nick a quick once-over. “What are you doing here, Logan? I thought you were on the VP detail.”

Nick shrugged. “I was, until last night.”

“Good to see you,” Ken said.

Nick walked through the iron-gated fence that surrounded the White House. He adjusted the collar of his heavy overcoat around his ears in an effort to block the raw wind blowing down Pennsylvania Avenue.

The bleakness of the day fit his mood.

By the time he reached the side door located between the White House and the Executive Office building and went inside, he was more than glad to be out of the wind. Nick paused in the entryway long enough to remove his coat, draping it over his arm before he headed for W-16, the large office/lounge that served as the command post for the White House detail of the Secret Service.

Once there, Nick paused in the doorway and looked around. The room contained several folding chairs, a long table with coffee and supplies, and a dozen or more men waiting to be briefed for the next shift. He recognized most of them from other assignments. The Secret Service was a close-knit group.

One of them broke away from a small group and approached him.

“Nicholas Logan?” he asked. “I’m Gregory Chambers, the detail leader. Appreciate your coming on board at such short notice.”

“I was sorry to hear about Colin Crenshaw’s accident. What happened?” Nick asked as he followed the older man across the room to the coffee area.

“Lost control of his car over in Alexandria,” Chambers replied, refilling his cup while Logan poured himself some coffee, allowing the steaming brew to warm his hands. “The investigating officers figure the icy weather was to blame. Ran into a pole. One of those freak accidents nobody can really explain.” Chambers motioned Nick to follow him once again. “You’ll be covering his four-to-midnight shift,” he said over his shoulder. “Colin was a good man. We’re going to miss him.”

Chambers paused beside a tall African-American who Nick noticed had been watching him since he’d first walked into the room—watching and assessing without betraying his thoughts. “Colin and Ron Stevenson here were partners, so you’ll be working together.”

Nick held out his hand and Stevenson shook it.

“We working the Man?” Nick asked, referring to the president.

Ron shook his head. “Nope. The daughter.”