All Chapters of BEAUTY AND THE BODYGUARD: DANGEROUS DESIRE BOOK 2: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

NANCY'S POVI sat up more fully, ignoring the way my head protested. Reached for the water and pills Zade must have left for me.Because of course he had. Of course he'd thought about what I'd need when I woke up.I swallowed the pills and drained half the glass of water, my throat desperately dry.Then I just sat there, processing everything from last night.The sexual tension that had finally exploded into the open. The admissions we'd both made. The kiss that had changed everything.The story that had broken my heart.Things had shifted between us. Irrevocably. We couldn't go back to pretending there was nothing between us. Couldn't go back to professional distance and careful boundaries.Not after last night.The question was: what happened now?Zade had said we'd talk when I was sober. That after last night, we couldn't keep pretending this wasn't happening.My stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation.What would he say? Would he try to take it back? Claim the alcohol had made

NANCY'S POVA moment of weakness.That's what he thought last night was. Everything we'd said, everything we'd admitted, that devastating kiss—Just a moment of weakness."I let the alcohol and the late hour and the..." he paused, searching for words, "the tension between us affect my judgment. I said things I shouldn't have said. Did things I shouldn't have done. And I'm sorry for that."He wasn't even looking at me. Was staring at a point somewhere over my shoulder, delivering this speech like he'd rehearsed it."I'm here to protect you, Nancy. That's my job. That's the only thing this can be. I crossed a line last night that I never should have crossed, and it won't happen again.""Zade—""I'm not finished." His voice was harder now. "We're going back to professional boundaries. Guard and assignment. No more games, no more late-night conversations, no more... anything that isn't directly related to your safety and training."I stared at him, waiting for him to look at me. Waiting f

NANCY'S POVFor the next few days, I treated Zade with exactly the cold professionalism he'd said he wanted.It was harder than I'd expected. Every instinct in me wanted to look at him, to engage with him, to try one more time to break through those walls he'd rebuilt so firmly.But I didn't.I'd meant what I said in the kitchen. I was done fighting for this. Done trying to convince him of something he clearly didn't want to acknowledge.If he wanted professional distance, I'd give him professional distance.So I stopped making eye contact during our morning training sessions. Would show up on time, dressed appropriately, ready to work. But I'd focus on a point just past his shoulder when he spoke to me, never quite meeting those intense silver eyes.I could feel him watching me, could sense his gaze on my face, waiting for me to look up. Waiting for me to crack.I never did.When he asked if I was ready to begin, I'd respond with a simple "Yes" in a flat, emotionless tone.When he ex

Nancy’s POVNot a command. Not an instruction. Just my name, spoken in that low, rough voice that used to make my heart skip.Still did, if I was being honest."Yes?" I didn't turn around.A pause. Then: "You don't have to do this.""Do what?""This. The cold distance. Eating alone in your room. Treating me like—" He stopped."Like what?" I asked, my voice neutral."Like a stranger.""You're my bodyguard. We should maintain appropriate boundaries. You said so yourself.""I know what I said—""Then I'm confused about what you're asking me."Another pause. I could hear him breathing behind me, could sense his frustration."You don't have to have your meals in your room."I still didn't turn around. Just stood there staring out at the endless blue ocean."It's your father's villa after all," he continued when I didn't respond. "You should feel free to use all the spaces. The dining room. The terrace. You could have them to yourself when you're having your meals. I'll—I'll make sure to ea

NANCY'S POVLater in the day, I was in my room painting when I heard the distant sound of a boat engine cutting through the usual quiet of the island.I set down my brush and went to the window. A small boat was approaching the villa's private dock, white with blue trim, riding the gentle waves.Supply delivery, probably. We got them every couple of weeks—food, equipment, whatever Maria had ordered or my father had arranged to be sent.Normally I didn't pay much attention. But today, starved for any kind of distraction from my thoughts—from Zade, from the confusing mess of feelings I was trying to suppress—I found myself curious.I wiped the paint from my hands and headed downstairs.By the time I reached the terrace, the boat had docked and a young man was tying it off. From this distance, I could see he was about my age, maybe mid-twenties. Dark hair, tanned skin, the lean build of someone who spent a lot of time on the water.I came outside fully, drawn by the novelty of seeing ano