Disclaimer: This is a Stephanie Plum FanFiction Story. All recognizable characters belong to the fabulous Janet Evanovich. I am just borrowing her amazing characters for a while. I'm grateful she allows us to play. I get paid in reviews, not in money.

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Summary: AU - Sparks fly when Stephanie finds herself with a hunky new bodyguard to watch over her.

A one-shot in response to the Janet Evanovich Fan Fiction Facebook Group July 2022 Writing Challenge: See image: Shirtless man with a breakfast tray.

Warning: Language, adult themes

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Temptation

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"Stephanie."

I groaned and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose to quell the pain throbbing behind my left eyeball. I'd know that nasally, grating voice anywhere.

"Stephanie!"

The voice was louder and more insistent. Jesus, could this night get any better? Trapped at some fundraiser from hell, in a pair of shoes that pinched my toes and a thong that rode up the crack of my ass just so I wouldn't ruin the line of my slinky slip dress, I had enough to contend with. The universe didn't need to throw gasoline on the fire.

A tiny sigh escaped, and I took a drink of my champagne to cover it. Sometimes this job was far too close to being a paid escort. Out begging for money and sexing it up for donations and votes. While I might not be elected, the Governor was, and my job depended on his re-election. The appointment to Attorney General had been both a blessing and a curse, but it was work I believed in, so here I was about to be mauled by my ex-husband as he closed the distance between us with purpose.

Because we were married for half of one not-hot minute, Dickie believed he could monopolize my time, and tell me what to do. At his command, I would just bend to his will. In his defense, I had been a doormat during our brief marriage. Constantly trying to make up for the fact I was a lousy wife. I spent too many hours at work, and not enough hours making sure Dickie had his dinner on the table promptly at six and stroking his gigantic ego in bed. I mentally rolled my eyes and suppressed a shiver of revulsion. His ego had been the only thing big about him.

I guess that's why he fucked Joyce Barnhardt on the kitchen table. May as well use it for something. Nostalgia washed over me. It had been a nice table. That was the only thing about my marriage to Dickie I missed. In the end, his cheating just speeded up the inevitable, and part of me was grateful I didn't spend years mired in a loveless lackluster sham of a marriage.

My eyes fixed on a point behind his head as I tuned him out and ran through my current case. Dickie seemed to forget I was the Attorney General; not him. Dickie was an ambulance-chasing mob lawyer. Not for the high-level guys, mainly street thugs and enforcers.

"Come on, Steph, the evidence against Andretti is circumstantial at best."

Dickie's hand reached out and stroked my arm, the contact gave me the willies. I yanked back and narrowed my eyes at him in a warning.

"If you think possession of the stolen jewelry, caught on camera, and the victim's blood is circumstantial, you should go back to law school."

I kept my voice even and polite, like we were discussing the weather. The same fake smile on my face as always. I'd done a lot of faking it with Dickie, so this wasn't much of a stretch. I briefly wondered if my face might get stuck this way, and decided that was an old wives' tale.

"Andretti almost beat that poor woman to death, Dickie. She was eighty-three. The deal on the table is it. Take it or leave it."

"Don't be like that." Dickie snapped and reached for my elbow. I sidestepped his grasping hand.

"If you'll excuse me." My smile was stiff, and I worked to control the rising tide of anger.

His fingers manacled my wrist, and I gave a sharp tug, but he wasn't letting go. A sigh escaped, and I wished for a glass of wine, a bubble bath, and the soft touch of a lover's hands massaging the tension out of my shoulders. Exactly none of those things were happening. I hadn't had sex with anyone other than myself in two years. In my position, I couldn't just go out and pick up men. Gossip could sink my career; one I had worked too hard for to throw away over a lousy lay.

I had bigger things to deal with than Dickie or my pathetic love life. My office had spent the last two years building a case against Mario Grimaldi, a local mob boss. The case had finally come together, and the trial was less than a month away. A trial I was taking a personal role in, given the high-profile nature of the defendant and his crimes. The evidence was rock solid and Grimaldi was going away for a long time. Extortion, racketeering, money laundering, and murder.

The death threats started a few weeks ago, after the reverse proffer where I detailed the State's evidence against Grimaldi. His lawyer had been sweating and even Grimaldi looked pale as he tugged at the collar of his expensive dress shirt.

It started with menacing phone calls, graffiti scrawled on my house, and yesterday a mangled cat dumped on my front steps. The local police increased patrols in my neighborhood but they were stretched too thin to be a deterrent. Some of the brass probably hoped it would intimidate me enough to resign. I had prosecuted some of their own for planting evidence and skimming drug money to turn a blind eye. It had caused quite a stir, and a good number of the Trenton P.D. considered me a traitor for not believing law enforcement was above the law.

I gave my arm one last tug, pulling it from Dickie's grasp. "This conversation is over," I told him in no uncertain terms and tried to step around him.

Dickie blocked my path and invaded my space. His expression telegraphed the fact that he was about to go off like a five-alarm fire. I'd seen that look all too often in our brief marriage. It was the same one he got when he accused me of cheating, being a lousy, frigid lay, an inept cook, and a power-hungry bitch that valued my job over him and our marriage.

Turned out, he was right. My job was way more exciting, I couldn't cook, and I'd never once had an orgasm at the hands of Dickie Orr. The cheating thing, well, that had just been transference. Dickie had been cheating on me since before we were married.

After a few years and a little perspective, I realized I married him because other people thought I should, not because I wanted to. Dickie nor my family ever understood I didn't want to be a cheerleader on the sidelines of my husband's career. I wanted to be the starting quarterback. It had been unfair to both of us, which is why I cut him a little slack, but I had reached the end of my rope and was about to make a scene.

"Ms. Plum," a deep, smooth voice that reminded me of aged whiskey interrupted Dickie's whining tirade and my impending career-limiting outburst.

I glanced up into a pair of dark eyes that stole my breath. The man was beyond handsome. A Michelangelo sculpture come to life. Perfect features, a sculpted jaw accented by long dark hair tied back in an effort to conform. I had bad news for him. That did nothing to hide the fact he was a panther in a sea of soft, boring lawyers. If the shameless stares of the women around us were any indication, I wasn't the only one that thought so.

Dickie turned away from me, a petulant expression marring his features. "Sorry pal, but.."

Dickie's voice trailed off at the hard, menacing glare the stranger shot him. Dickie's face took on a florid hue and resembled a fish out of water. I mashed my lips together to keep from smiling. Anyone that could put Dickie and his oversized ego in its place with just a glance, was my new favorite person.

The man held out his hand to me, but I hesitated. I had no idea who this guy was. For all I knew, he could be an axe murderer. Then again, the snug fit of his suit over his perfectly proportioned body suggested he was not an axe murderer. Surely an axe would ruin the line of his expensive suit. There would be a telltale bulge, right? At that thought, my eyes dropped. There was a bulge, all right, but not from an axe. My eyes snapped up, and I pretended I didn't just ogle some random stranger's junk.

His lip tipped up in an almost smile and his eyes blazed with heat and an obvious challenge. He threw me the what- you-see- is-what-you-get look and my mind jumped to all the dirty, filthy, improper places I wanted to go with him. If there was truth in advertising, he'd be one hell of a ride. I indulged in the fantasy for a moment. Heat surged through my body with crippling speed, and I feigned indifference as sweat pooled at the base of my spine.

"Ma'am," the silky, deep voice reminded me of a purr and made that one-word sound like an invitation to a sinful interlude.

His eyes held mine, and I reached up and took his outstretched hand, helpless to resist his command. The contact jolted up my arm, sizzling and crackling as if I had just touched the third rail. He tugged me away from Dickie and tucked me in on his left side, his hand settling on my low back, where it burned like hot coal through the thin fabric of my dress.

"Mr. Orr, do not touch Attorney General Plum again."

Dickie huffed and crossed his arms. "She's my wife."

I stiffened, and the stranger's hand on my low back squeezed in a warning.

"Madam Attorney General is your ex-wife, and if you touch her again, I promise you it will be very unpleasant."

The blank, passive expression on his face remained locked in place, but it was clear he was not making an idle threat.

"And just who do you think you are?" Dickie asked with waning bravado.

"I'm part of A.G. Plum's security detail." The man replied smoothly.

My brows furrowed, but I waited until Dickie stalked off with one last baleful glance, before I pulled away and whirled around to face him.

"You're my what?" I hissed under my breath. "I didn't request nor do I want a security detail. This is a mistake. Your services are not needed."

"I don't work for you. The Governor's office hired me." He replied smoothly in that same patient tone underpinned by steel.

My eyes narrowed, and irritation skittered up my spine. "Fine, I'll take it up with the Governor."

His head dipped in acknowledgment. We both knew how that conversation would go.

"In the meantime, we need to go over some security protocols. The State police believe there is a credible threat against your life."

I crossed my arms, and his eyes flickered down to where my breasts pushed up, threatening to spill over the top of my dress. I dropped my arms as twin spots of color stained my cheeks. The tilt at the corner of his mouth suggested he wanted to smile, but somehow, he kept his face blank while conveying he liked the view.

"Why don't we start with your name?" I snapped, irritated at how quickly the man had rendered me into a tongue-tied schoolgirl.

"Carlos Manoso, but most people just call me Ranger."

"Ranger?" My eyebrows quirked up.

"Yes ma'am."

He offered no further explanation, and I decided I didn't care because he wouldn't be around long enough for it to matter. I would demand a meeting with the Governor in the morning and sort this out. Traveling around with a security detail would make me seem weak, like a woman that needed protection. I couldn't afford to appear anything less than in control.

"Join me on the terrace." It wasn't an invitation as much as it was a command. "We need to go over the protocol."

The encounter confirmed one thing: this Ranger guy gave a lot of orders that he expected everyone to obey. I sucked in a deep breath and nodded. There was no reason to argue and draw unwanted attention. He took me by the elbow and guided me onto the balcony, while I tried to ignore the tingle where his fingers touched my skin like five points of fire.

"Mr. Manoso."

"Call me Ranger," he interrupted.

I threw him a questioning glance and his shoulder tilted up a fraction. "It's easier."

"Easier for what?" I huffed.

"To scream." His face was completely blank at the declaration.

My eyes narrowed, and his expression remained passive. Innocent like I was the only one with a dirty mind. We both knew what he meant. Or at least my libido did, as my panties got embarrassingly damp.

"You know, in the event of an emergency." He clarified, losing the battle not to smile.

The smugness on his face should have been unattractive, but his cockiness just made him more alluring. Every cell in my body hummed with interest while my ovaries promptly fainted.

I huffed out a breath, wrestling my traitorous body under control. "OK, Ranger. This," I waved my hand between us. "Is just temporary. I understand you have a job to do, but don't get too comfortable."

"Understood."

That's what I wanted him to say, so why was I disappointed he didn't insist on protecting me? His voice snapped me back to the immediate problem.

"Until I am told directly from the Governor, I am going to provide you protection. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I'm hoping you let me do my job, so you stay safe in yours."

"Of course." I nodded, feeling like a child sent to the principal's office, thinking Ranger and hard in the same sentence probably had a different connotation than the visual that blazed across my retinas.

"There is a three-man team assigned as your personal protection unit. I will be your primary, which means I will be with you twenty-four seven through the duration of the trial. Where you go, I go."

"Isn't that hard on your wife, or your girlfriend, to be gone for so long?" I blurted out.

Way to be subtle, I chastised and resisted the urge to fling myself off the balcony. I'd handled that with all the grace of a stampeding water buffalo.

"No wife, no girlfriend. My life doesn't lend itself to relationships." His matter-of-fact tone brokered no room for further questions.

I studied him for a minute. He didn't seem offended at my prying, and I exhaled a slow, relieved breath. Married to your work. That I understood, my life didn't lend itself to relationships either. Hot sex once in a while might not be so bad. I wondered what Ranger might look like naked, and my mind drifted off to that forbidden fantasy with unexpected ease. His voice jerked me back.

"What I am not is your body man." He continued as if I hadn't asked an inappropriate personal question.

I thought his declaration was unfortunate on a lot of fronts, but I nodded my concurrence. Having Ranger cover my body didn't sound so bad, now that I'd gotten a good look at him.

"I don't fetch your coffee, I don't make appointments for you, I don't carry bags."

"I understand."

"Good. Always stay on my left side when we move. Don't get out of the car unless I open the door for you and tell you it is clear. You don't enter a room unless I've cleared it and don't go ahead of me to get on an elevator. I will need a copy of your schedule, and you need to tell me about any change of plans. We need to communicate. If I tell you to do something, no hesitation, no questions, no talking back, you just do it. Understand."

"Yes," I hedged.

I'd never been great at taking orders and not talking back. And frankly, that didn't sound like communication, that sounded like Ranger giving orders and me obeying without questioning.

His brow quirked up. "Are we going to have a problem?"

One shoulder tilted up. "No," I elongated the word, knowing the answer was probably yes.

The man smiled and I couldn't breathe, think, or speak. A flash of those perfect white teeth and a face that made Adonis seem homely held me transfixed.

He accurately read my hesitation. "Of course we are, but we will find a rhythm. Before long, you won't even know I'm there."

A soft snort escaped before I could contain it. The likelihood of that being true was approaching zero. The man dominated the space around him, and his pure, masculine energy was intoxicating.

"I can't stress enough how important these things are. They keep us both safe." Ranger's voice shook me out of my momentary lapse into fantasyland.

"I'll do my best, but like I said, come tomorrow, your services will no longer be needed."

Why the hell did my voice sound so breathy? And why was my entire body flushed with heat?

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

My eyes narrowed. He was way too confident for a hired gun, and damn if that didn't make my insides do weird things. My stomach was doing backflips, and my heart was racing like a contender for the Kentucky Derby. I hadn't been this attracted to a man in forever. Too bad he was off-limits.

"One other thing." He said as I decided I could probably have an orgasm just listening to him read my daily briefings. That deep, silky voice vibrated through my chest and settled further south.

"Ma'am, are you listening?"

"What? Yes." I assured him, having no clue what he just said.

"If you are seeing someone or you intend to spend time with someone, I need to know. We need to vet that person."

"Spend time?" I asked blankly. My mind ran through the dozens of people I interacted with daily, thinking this would be untenable.

"Have sex with."

At his blunt statement, my head jerked up and embarrassment colored my cheeks, flaming my face hotter than the sun.

"Yeah, that's not going to be a problem. I'm not having sex."

The world shuddered to a stunned stop as my confession poured into the empty space between us. Oh shit, did I just say that out loud? I closed my eyes and prayed for the earth to swallow me whole or to be abducted by aliens. I didn't care, any old natural disaster would do. I just needed off this balcony.

When I opened my eyes, I was still on the balcony and Ranger was mashing his lips together, staring at the ground, desperately trying not to laugh. I pretty much wanted to die of embarrassment. Could I be any more pathetic and awkward? It wasn't exactly a mystery why I was involuntarily celibate.

Ranger cleared his throat. "Good to know."

He kept his expression neutral, like I hadn't just announced to some hot stranger my only date was my battery-operated boyfriend.

"I think this is a little much," I said in a desperate bid to steer the conversation away from my non-existent sex life.

"This is basic protocol. After a day or two, you will forget I'm even there."

Somehow, I doubted that, but I kept my misgivings to myself. Come tomorrow, this would be over.

"Who else is on the team?" I asked.

"It will be a rotating team, but I will provide you with pictures and names of anyone assigned to your detail. Memorize them. If you don't recognize someone, don't go with them."

His gaze held mine a little too long to be polite, but I was helpless to look away. An unexpected attraction swirled in the space between us, leaving me dizzy and unsure. My teeth worried along my bottom lip, as I tried to decide what to do about the hunky new bodyguard that was going to be with me twenty-four seven. One no one would question spending the night.

"Ma'am," the timbre of his voice dropped, and my belly fluttered in response. "You can't keep looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want me for lunch."

I shook my head. "I wasn't looking at you like I wanted you for lunch."

His brow quirked up in challenge.

"I was looking at you like I wanted you for breakfast," I said with a smile.

His head tipped back, and he laughed, a deep rich sound that caused my long dormant lady parts to wake up and take notice. My eyes stayed riveted to the smooth expanse of his throat, wondering when I had lost my marbles. Since when did a man's throat become sexy?

My mind took a detour and fixated on Ranger bringing me breakfast in bed. Shirtless and sexy, with a slow, sensual smile. If I played my cards right, I'd see what was on that tray by morning. My eyes roved over his broad form. Given his sculpted body, my bet was on fruit or oatmeal. Definitely something healthy. My eyes dropped lower, and it was obvious Ranger's thoughts were right there with me. I decided, if Ranger was naked, I wouldn't care what was on the tray.

"You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" He was still smiling, heat blazing in his eyes.

My shoulder shrugged up. "It's kind of my middle name."

His hand settled on my low back, sending a delicious shiver up my spine as he guided me back into the ballroom to mingle.

"Then I guess it's lucky, trouble is my favorite thing." His deep, sexy purr was for my ears only.