Gilded Cage

Page

Gilded Cage

ISBN # 978-0-85715-385-2

©Copyright Lizzie Lynn Lee 2011

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright November 2017

Edited by Delaney Sullivan

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2017 by Totally Bound Publishing, UK.

Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 3.

GILDED CAGE

Lizzie Lynn Lee

He wishes keeping his hands off her was as easy as keeping her safe, but she's one delicious temptation no mortal man can resist…

As the sole heir of the richest man in the world, Lillian Blackwell lives her life as nothing but a pawn in a golden cage. Lonely in her tall tower, she yearns for that someday when her knight in shining armor will come and rescue her and set her free.

Battle-worn veteran Brandon Shea lost everything after he came back from the war. He’s just starting over when he gets a job as Lillian’s bodyguard. He certainly doesn’t expect Lillian to beg him to free her when she’s forced to marry her father’s colleague, Maxwell Stanford, a cunning billionaire who has a terrible temper and is also twice her age. Brandon swore he’d had enough of playing hero, but when he realizes Lillian is just as lonely as he is, he can’t refuse her request.

Hiding Lillian from Stanford’s men is an easy job, but things get out of hand when she wants Brandon for more than just her bodyguard. Suddenly, playing the knight for his modern-day Rapunzel becomes much more physical than he’d planned.

Author’s Note

Even though the names and locales are based on real geography, some alterations and the fictitious history have been made to fit into the time line of this story.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Glock: Glock Inc.

Rapunzel: Brothers’ Grimm

Charles Schwab: Charles Schwab Co., Inc.

Hello Kitty: Sanrio Co. Ltd.

Beretta: Fabbrica d’Armi P. Beretta S.p.A.

Humvee: AM General Corporations

Sherlock Holmes: Sir Arthur Conan Dole

Styrofoam: The Dow Chemical Company

Taser: Taser International, Inc.

Kevlar: E.I. du Pont de Nemours and Company

Chapter One

Tokyo, 2067

Sleep hadn’t been easy for Brandon Shea ever since he went to war. And it hadn’t been easy, either, after he’d returned from the hellhole thirteen months ago. The slightest sound, like a footstep or a sigh of breath, would send him jumping awake. Each time he was interrupted from his sleep, his next habit was to grab his Glock from under his pillow and aim it at the intruder. In Afghanistan, he squeezed the trigger and shot the fools before he even opened his eyes. He was a black ops soldier who had often been deployed solo behind enemy lines. Anybody stupid enough to sneak up on him would be automatically considered his enemy. His rules of engagement didn’t include taking prisoners of war. His job was to scout and kill—heavy on the killing part.

A train of thought flared across his mind, blaring an alarm that he wasn’t in the war zone before he was compelled to pull the trigger. He opened up his eyes and relaxed his stance. That’s right, I’m not in Kandahār anymore. I’m in Tokyo, the whore of civilization. He blinked and focused his vision on his intruder. Ghosts from his past flashed before his eyes before he could shake them off. Faces of the enemy combatants he’d killed. Brandon blinked again. The ghosts scattered, replaced by the face of a young woman who stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

The realization made his heart stop beating for a second. For the love of God, I almost killed you, kid.

Brandon gulped a lungful of air, and placed his Glock in his lap. "Miss Blackwell. Nan desu ka?"

She drew a relieved breath when the barrel of the gun was no longer staring at her. I speak English, Mr. Shea. Very well.

What is it? What are you doing here? Brandon repeated his question. His eyes skittered toward the door. The bolt was still locked from the inside. No one could get in unless that person was a ghost. How did you get in here?

Lillian shyly pointed to one side of the wall across from his bed. It had a small rectangle opening he hadn’t noticed before. "That used to be a tokonoma."

Tokonoma? Oh, that weird small alcove thing he had seen in traditional Japanese houses.

It was connected to my bedroom. I came here often. To hide.

I didn’t know this was one of your rooms. I’m new and Mrs. Mitsusaki gave me this as my bedroom.

I know.

Then why are you here? Brandon felt irritated. He didn’t like being wakened from sleep. Not when he’d almost blown her pretty head off.

Lillian pursed her lips and sat at the edge of his bed, her hands folded in her lap. She studied his gun before staring at him with defiance in her eyes. I have a proposition for you, Mr. Shea.

Brandon ran his hand through his hair. What kind of proposition?

She leaned closer. Her icy-blue eyes blazed. Take me away from this place. Anywhere. I don’t really care.

Excuse me?

I’ll compensate you, of course. I have an account that no one knows about. Not even my father. Take me away from this place and that money is all yours.

Take you away? Brandon frowned. Are you nuts?

You didn’t ask how much money I’m prepared to give you.

I don’t care. What you’re asking me to do is wrong.

Mr. Shea, she whispered urgently. I don’t want to marry that man.

Marry? he echoed.

Seconds later, it dawned on him. Lillian Jasmine Blackwell, his new charge, was recently engaged to a billionaire named Maxwell Stanford. The news about their engagement had been plastered all over the tabloids, newspapers and the TV. He hadn’t paid much attention to it since he hadn’t been working with the Blackwell family at that time. Today was supposed to be his second day in the job as Lillian’s bodyguard. Actually, his shift wouldn’t begin until ten.

I just found out my father has set a wedding date. It’s one week from now. Lillian shuddered. I hate Maxwell. I’d rather slit my throat than marry him.

Brandon forced a blank expression on his face, hoping he’d look at least a bit apathetic, since bodyguards weren’t supposed to meddle in their employers’ business. Maxwell Stanford was infamous for his unsavory personality and business practices. But he wasn’t worth her slitting her throat.

Brandon thought hard, choosing his words carefully. Why don’t you have a word with your father if you don’t want to marry Mr. Stanford?

Are you kidding? When my father wants something, I really don’t have a say in it.

Brandon felt pity for her. He’d seen Stanford’s picture before. Maybe he’d watched his interview on a late-night show, too. He recalled a friend of his calling Maxwell Stanford ‘toad man,’ and the billionaire lived up to the nickname. The man looked like a whisky barrel that had sprouted arms and legs. Almost as if God had been totally wasted when He’d created Stanford, and that no amount of plastic surgery could ever make him decent to look at. Oddly enough, he’d heard Stanford was a world-renowned Casanova. His conquests included celebrities, models and actresses. Brandon found it disturbing to see a man’s wealth could make people overlook his true personality.

Lillian Blackwell, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of Stanford. Her beauty was breathtaking. Large blue eyes, pert nose, sumptuous lips. Divine long legs with a slender and firm body. But one thing that caught his attention the most was her hair. The silky golden tresses of hers seemed to flow forever. It fell past her back, waist, hips and ended just below her knees. When Brandon saw her for the first time, Lillian had been sitting in the terrace with her hair loose, draping her like a silky golden curtain. She’d reminded him of Rapunzel from the fairytale book he’d read when he was little. To think a toad-like man like Stanford would marry a beautiful nubile woman like Lillian. A shame, indeed.

Look, kid…

I’m twenty years old. I’m hardly a kid.

I’m thirty-four and that makes you a kid to me.

A scowl erupted on her pretty face.

Listen, Ms. Blackwell. I can’t smuggle you out of this place. I’m your bodyguard. My job is to protect you.

Then protect me from him! Lillian seized his hands and squeezed them. Her voice was strained with desperation. She looked as if she was about to cry. You know Stanford isn’t marrying me because he loves me. He’s marrying me for my father’s fortune. And my father needs his power and protection to stay in business.

Any fool could see what was happening. The engagement and soon-to-be wedding