Dr. Bond Bergstrom fights to save the life of a man shot near the lakeside path where he jogs. Later, when the hospital where Bond works as chief of surgery learns the shooter attempted to kill him also, the board insists on assigning security protection to him 24/7 until the killer is caught.<br><br>Bond is furious with the decision. Former Navy SEALs, he argues, can protect themselves better than anyone in the world. Not so, counters former Delta Force operative Rory O’Shea. He’s the hot, sexy Irish-American who owns the agency providing the hospital’s routine security.<br><br>Bond grudgingly gives in, unaware that O’Shea has an ulterior motive in assigning himself to spend nights with the doctor as his personal bodyguard. Will O’Shea prove he has what it takes to satisfy Bond -- both in and out of the bedroom?

Amen to Love

This table faced the main area of the room, which was filled with round tables each seating seven and covered with white linen cloths. The centerpieces were wintery—white flowers of some kind surrounded by greenery with a yellow candle sticking up from the center. Waiters dressed in black pants and crisp, white shirts were lighting them now.


The man lighting the candles at the head table had a tiny golden earring in his left ear. He winked as he passed, and Bond nodded and smiled.


Since Weatherton still wasn’t part of the administrator’s group, which included Rory, Bond returned to it. Bond greeted people he knew, and Northman introduced him to those he didn’t. There were too many names, and even though these were the big donors for the hospital, they soon became a blur, all running together.


Rory, through it all, remained happy and gracious. Irritation grew in Bond.


“A wee bit grumpy are ya, Dr. Bergstrom?”


Rory had stepped behind him and spoken in a low voice.


Chapter 32