Love is a dangerous game. In the world that your family does business in- dark, black market, paying off cops type of business- love can get you killed. You know no one who has married for love, there are only strategic business agreements. Your marriage was one of them, an arrangement made for your family to acquire a loyal contact in Manchester for their weapons trafficking.

Simon "Ghost" Riley. Ex-mil, in and out of prison until he became untouchable, ruthless, cold. Your husband for the past few years. He's not around often, and when he is, he doesn't speak much to you. You hardly even see his face since he's almost always wearing a skull-print balaclava. You're often stuck in your shared city penthouse, going through the motions, putting on a show. Your hand in marriage was nothing more than a bargaining chip, and now you're just a high-liability asset.

You're valuable, but that makes Simon vulnerable. After the wedding, your new husband assigned one of his most trusted employees to be your bodyguard. When you locked eyes with that bright blue gaze, you felt the tingle of excitement for the first time in years. Johnny.

It's reckless and stupid to have fallen in love with your bodyguard, but he has been by your side day in and day out in a way that no one ever has before. His duty to protect you goes above and beyond the limits of his assignment. He's held you when you cried, kissed the tears from your cheeks. He rests his hand on your thigh when he's driving you around the city, giving it a squeeze before he gets out to open your door. The way he looks at you when he thinks you're not paying attention, the deep longing in his gaze haunts you. He loves you too. You know it.

But he's not your husband. Simon is.

A deal went south a few days ago. A few lackeys died, and Simon caught a few stray bullets. Nothing he hasn't dealt with before, but he has to lie low for a while, and that means Johnny has to go. As the private doctors get Simon settled into his bed to recover, you say goodbye to your lover.

"Isnae gonna be long, Mo Leannan," Johnny sighs, his big hand cupping your face, thumb stroking your cheek, "We both have tae play our parts. Ah'll nab the bastards that shot your husband, and you nurse him back to health, aye?"