Romance Novels With Bodyguards Novels & Stories

She also wanted to smack herself in the head for lusting after a man who was supposed to be her bodyguard and nothing more. Cool it, woman. This isn't a romance, it's a business arrangement. Any minute now he'd be walking in the door. Would he like the furniture she'd bought? Think the house was pleasant and welcoming? Ohmigod! This guy is my bodyguard, not my lover. But the little devil on her shoulder whispered, "Oh, no?"

Red groans, his mouth ajar, forcing my eyes to fly open and look at his face. He's enticed, totally beguiled by the depth of our intimacy, our bodies molding with perfection. I hug his wider back tightly, kissing his neck, sucking and biting it, my nails deeply into his skin. Hungry creature I've become, and my bodyguard seems to fancy every bit of my perverseness. Red keeps pounding on me, deeper each time, slowly, then fast, again and again, his lips delicious on mine. Oh God! I moan nonstop, rocking my waist, devouring this feel of long anticipation coming to reality. He doesn't stop.

It is used solely to serve the story’s character arc, themes of identity and survival, and dramatic tension. Characters in this book may display dark, immoral, or emotionally complex behaviors. This includes betrayal, manipulation, power struggles, violence, and intense romantic or physical relationships. The presence of these elements does not indicate that the author condones or promotes such actions in real life. They are included as part of the fictional experience, to explore the emotional and psychological impact of surviving in a dangerous and unpredictable world.

The way they rose and fell with her breathing, the faint sheen of sweat already forming in the club heat… it was driving me insane. “You know,” I leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear as we swayed, “if you keep looking around like that, people are going to think you’re my jealous girlfriend instead of my bodyguard.” She scoffed, but I felt her breath hitch when I slowly slid my hand from her hip to the small of her back, pulling her even tighter against me. “Eyes up here, pretty boy,” she muttered, though her body betrayed her by pressing closer for a split second.

A story of a bodyguard and an artist, a protector and a creator, a partnership that had healed not only their own wounds, but the wounds of the world. A story that, like the horizon over their beloved valley, was endless. The End.

“…Of course I am.” “Good. You should be.” She leaned in, eyes fierce. “Because I’m not even the one in your shoes, and I want to burn them both to the ground.” I sat back, silent. She softened slightly but didn’t let up. “Look, I get it. You’re scared. But this is Rio. Someone who’s been by your side for three years. And now you know he’s not just your bodyguard—he’s Nikolai freaking Dorne. Billionaire, boss man, sexy-as-hell Italian dreamboat.”

The deep melodious sound of his voice which melted her heart was just the tip of the iceberg. He had the physique of a bodyguard, his black curled hair, full brows and fine jawline which looked like it was perfectly chiselled God himself was enough to keep her staring. She was drunk but still conscious enough to know that the person standing in front of her was drop-dead handsome. She chuckled slightly while he pulled a high stool close to hers and sat down gently. Her heart raced significantly, she wasn't one who easily fell for guys, "why on earth am I finding it difficult to breathe?!" she asked herself trying to avoid his concerned gaze.

“I’m frightened too. I don’t know who’s still out there, or what they want, or how much of my own life has been shaped by hands I never saw. But I know this. I know what it feels like when you hold my hand like this. I know that’s mine. That’s not anyone’s plan but our own.” He was quiet for a long moment, and then, slowly, he lifted his head and looked at me with something steadier than fear. “I want to make you a promise,” he said. “Not the kind soldiers make. Not duty. Something that’s just mine to give.” “Okay.” “Whatever comes next — the Architect, my father, Marcus’s father, whoever else is still hiding somewhere in all of this — I’m not doing it as your bodyguard anymore. I’m doing it

The girls nodded, their faces awed at such greek- gods giving face. “He's so capable,” Ada swooned, pouting her lips. “How would you know that?” I asked, getting irritated. “I know capable men when I see them, it's a gift,” she replied, wetting her lips at him. “If I had someone like that watching me all day, I'd be satisfied,” Rosie cooed like he was too perfect a man. They had no right to swoon over him, when he was my bodyguard without my permission. I didn't say that though, I would've sounded cheesy so instead, I gulped down a glass and poured another.

Isabella, for her part, had a handsome, tall, gentle bodyguard, Christian, who took over from her formal guard, Tony, who had gone for paternity leave and didn't return; rather, he was transferred to another section. "Don't you think he will make the best husband for me?" Isabella, sitting with her friend Emily, speaks. "My princess, do you mean Xavier?" Emily asked, not knowing whom the princess was referring to. "No, but my bodyguard. I am in love with him." She answered boldly. Emily could get surprised; she kept mute for a minute; her tongue seemed so heavy to roll words out from her mouth, but she had to talk.