All Chapters of BEAUTY AND THE BODYGUARD: DANGEROUS DESIRE BOOK 2: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

NANCY'S POVWhen I woke up the next morning, sunlight was streaming through the French doors I'd forgotten to fully close after my mortifying balcony incident.I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, my resolve from last night still firmly in place.I was going to ask Zade to train me. Really train me. Teach me how to defend myself so I'd never feel helpless again.The decision made me feel better. More in control. Like I was finally taking some kind of action instead of just being a passive victim in my own life.I got out of bed, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Didn't bother with makeup or getting fully dressed. I was just going to find Zade, ask him, and then come back to my room to get ready properly.I headed downstairs, my bare feet silent on the cool tile.I found him in the kitchen.He was leaning against the counter, one hand wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, the other holding his phone as he scrolled thro

NANCY'S POVMaria stood in the doorway, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Valentino.""It's okay," I said, setting down my brush and wiping my paint-covered hands on the rag I'd been using. "What is it?""Mr. Konstantin asked me to find you. He'd like to see you in the surveillance room."My stomach did an uncomfortable flip.What did he want now? To lecture me about asking personal questions? To establish more boundaries between us?"Did he say why?" I asked."No, miss. Just that it was important."I sighed. "Okay. Where is the surveillance room?""Down the hallway, third door on the left. You can't miss it—it's the only one with the keypad lock.""Thanks, Maria."She nodded and left.I looked back at my half-finished painting. The dark, turbulent ocean. The aggressive brush strokes.Perfect representation of my current state of mind.I cleaned my brushes quickly, wiped my hands more thoroughly, and headed out to find Zade.The surveillance room was exactly whe

NANCY'S POVIn the morning, I woke to sunlight streaming through the French doors and the sound of birds chirping outside.The storm had passed. The sky was clear and blue, like the violence of last night had never happened.I lay in bed for a moment, staring at the connecting door.Still unlocked.The memory of last night came flooding back. The nightmare. Zade bursting into my room, half-dressed and armed, ready to fight whatever threat had made me scream. The way I'd pushed him away even though part of me had wanted him to stay.The way he'd left the door unlocked anyway.*In case you get scared again.*I pushed the covers back and got out of bed, trying not to think too hard about what any of it meant.I got dressed in my running clothes—black leggings, a purple sports bra, and the same thin hoodie from yesterday. Pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Laced up my running shoes.My muscles were sore from yesterday's run. My legs protested as I moved around the room. I was definitely

NANCY'S POVHe brought my meals to my room on a tray—breakfast, lunch, and dinner, all prepared by Maria but delivered by him.He checked on my ankle multiple times a day, changing the ice, rewrapping the bandage, monitoring the swelling.He carried me anywhere I wanted to go. To the library when I wanted to read somewhere other than my bed. To the terrace when I wanted fresh air. To the art studio when I got restless and needed to paint.Every time, he asked permission first. "May I carry you to the library?" "Is it alright if I pick you up now?" "Ready to go back to your room?"Always asking. Always waiting for my consent.It was such a stark contrast to how he'd handled me before—throwing me over his shoulder, making decisions for me, controlling my movements without consultation.This was different.This felt like respect.And every single time he lifted me into his arms, I felt it.That electric charge. That awareness of every point of contact between us.The warmth of his body a

NANCY'S POVThat afternoon, after lunch and a much-needed nap to recover from the morning's intense training, I found myself restless.My muscles were sore but in a good way. The kind of soreness that came from using your body, from getting stronger, from actually accomplishing something.But I was also hot. The Greek sun was beating down and the villa, despite its beautiful architecture and cooling stone walls, felt stuffy.I needed to cool off.The pool.I hadn't actually been in the pool since arriving on the island. I'd walked past it dozens of times, had eaten meals on the terrace overlooking it, but I hadn't actually gone swimming.That needed to change.I went to my room and dug through my dresser until I found my swimsuit. A simple black bikini—nothing too revealing, but definitely not modest either. Two triangles of fabric held together with strings.I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should choose something more conservative. But then I remembered this was my life now.