by Lane, Terri
Bodyguard of Love
Bodyguard Romance
By:
Terri Lane
© Copyright 2017 by Terri Lane - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Publisher’s Note
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9 FREE BONUS full-length novellas and short stories included!
Table of Contents
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Bodyguard of Love
Bonus Full Length Stories
The Dragon Twins
Her SEAL, Her Savior
Forbidden Love
Wager of Hearts
Taken by the Aliens
Claimed by Dragons
A True Billionaire’s Heart
A SEAL’s Mate
Learning with the Dragons
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Bodyguard of Love
Chapter 1
A scream cut through the air, echoing in the grand bedroom of the famous pop star, Samantha Miles. Her blonde hair was a mess and sticking to her sweaty forehead. She raised a shaky hand, removing the strands carefully while closing her eyes. She was panting. Another nightmare had kept her from getting her proper sleep, and she was growing tired of fighting in her dreams.
There wasn’t much she could do to ease the pain other than continue her therapy sessions. Ever since that horrifying incident in New York where an obsessed fan had shot at her, she couldn’t shake the persistent feeling of panic. One of her dancers had been grazed and another one had a leg injury from falling over, which had knocked Samantha to the ground. She remembered looking up to see the hole in the wall, noticing it was just inches from where she had been standing.
If I hadn’t fallen, she thought timidly. I might not be here.
Shaking still, she stood from the bed and took a few deep breaths, something her therapist had instructed her to do during panic attacks. It helped only for a few minutes until her thoughts became a whirling vortex of fear, sucking her back down into the dark pit of despair which kept her from eating well and getting enough sleep.
There has to be more I can do, she thought. I need to sleep.
A knock at the door startled her and she heaved a sigh while chuckling.
“Yes?” she called while pulling on a robe.
“I have your coffee and toast, ma’am,” said her maid.
“Come in,” she said while sitting back down on the bed.
Her maid opened the door, peeked inside, and then bustled a cart into the room. She set it next to Samantha who smiled timidly, lifting a cup of hot coffee. Her hand was shaking.
“Thank you, Rose,” Samantha said.
“How did you sleep, Miss Miles?” Rose asked while spreading butter on the toast.
“Well,” Samantha said low. She looked down into her coffee, taking another deep and shaky breath. “It wasn’t too great.”
Rose gave her a sympathetic look and smoothed her apron.
“Would you like me to call the doctor again, ma’am?” she asked.
Samantha shook her head with a slight smile.
“No, I’m fine, Rose. Thank you,” she said.
“Would you like anything else, Miss Miles?” Rose asked.
“No, thank you,” she replied.
“It’s my pleasure, ma’am,” Rose said.
She turned to head for the door as Samantha became absorbed with her thoughts, reflecting on what her agent, Mercy, had suggested. She could hear it clearly in her head.
You could always hire another bodyguard, Mercy had said. And then you wouldn’t ever have to worry about it again. Put some more muscles between you and the crowd.
“Rose,” Samantha said quickly.
The maid reappeared and waited patiently.
“Call my agent,” Samantha instructed.
Rose nodded dutifully and left the room. When she was gone, Samantha sat in pensive thought on her bed. She wrapped her fingers around the warm porcelain mug, absorbing the heat from the fresh coffee. It soothed her. She took another sip and picked up a slice of toast, looking at it carefully.
“I wonder if I’ll stomach this,” she pondered out loud.
With a sigh, she took a small bite and relaxed back into the silk cushions while chewing slowly. It was such an arduous process. Her shoulders were tense, the upper muscles of her back knotted from cringing in her sleep. Much of her neck was also in the same state of stress and ran down the length of her back to her lumbar where she felt a tingle of pain.
During her fall, she had injured her lumbar which regularly caused a slew of pain. Overcoming the injury was no big feat—it was the emotional pain that proved to be difficult. After physical therapy, she had felt much better, but the panic still lingered in her gut. Every turn around a corner ruffled her fight or flight response, waiting with fear for another attack.
It could happen at any moment.
She had never once lived her life in such fear. As a teenager, she was excessively daring, taking her dance training up a level by learning acrobatics. While her mother fearfully watched from the sidelines, she was dancing in the air, swinging from one rope to the other. Her love for dancing could never be stifled by the potential to fall. In fact, she invited it.
But this was something else. This was much more sinister and disturbing. While she excitedly bounced around on stage, the halls held a horrifying reminder of her close encounter with death.
Samantha set her toast on her plate, waving at it as if to dismiss it from existence. She sat against her pillows with a sigh, cradling the porcelain cup that was quickly losing heat in her hand. She sipped from it. A knock came from the door and she called for whomever it was to enter.
Rose approached her bed with the phone extended.
“It’s your agent, ma’am,” she said.
“Thank you, Rose,” Samantha said while taking the phone.
As Samantha raised the phone to her ear, Rose looked over the barely touched toast and sighed before leaving the room. Samantha knew her caretakers were worried. Everyone was worried. She simply wasn’t herself as of late.
“Hello, Mercy,” Samantha said into the phone.
“Hey, Sam. How are you feeling?” Mercy asked.
“I’m alright. Listen, I was thinking about hiring another bodyguard,” Samantha explained.
“Oh, that’s fantastic! I’ll set up an anonymous ad right away. Is there anything in particular you would want?” Mercy asked.
“Not that I can think of. Just get back to me when you have some interviews set up. I need to meet them personally,” Samantha replied.
“Of course. Absolutely. I’ll call Richie and have him get on it right away,” Mercy said.
Samantha heard shuffling on the other end of the phone and shook her head.
“You’re still a mess, Mercy,” she commented.
“Aren’t I always?” Mercy joked. “Oh, the agents for the Crown Auditorium up north called and asked when you might return.”
Samantha sighed.
“I mean...” she trailed off, setting her coffee on bedside table and then raising her hand to her face to contain her emotions. “I have
to really think about that.”
“That’s what I told them. Considering your experience there, I didn’t think you would even want to return,” Mercy said.
“If they would double their security, I might,” Samantha said.
“I can give them a call this afternoon. We’ve been wanting to get you back on tour as soon as possible. Your fans keep sending letters all about you getting well and back out there,” Mercy explained.
Samantha smiled.
“That’s sweet,” she said. “Well, I’ll think about it.”
“It’s either that or record a new album, Sam,” Mercy said.
“I really don’t have anything to work with yet,” Samantha said.
“Well, just give it some thought. I’ll call you later with details, alright?” Mercy said.
“Alright. Thanks, Mercy,” Samantha said.
“Any time, Sam,” Mercy replied.
The line clicked and Samantha set the phone down, looking out the lavish French window overlooking a great, lush garden. There were magnolias, sunflowers, azaleas, and all manner of shrubbery decorating the length of the backyard. In the center was a beautiful maze which Samantha had personally requested. It brought her comfort to walk through undisturbed for hours on end, absorbing the beautiful energy brimming from each leaf.
She really was a wild child. Big cities made her feel awkward, the crowds making her feel even smaller than she already felt in such a great world. But it was always comforting to come back to nature. She felt like it made her stronger each time.
After a moment of silence, Samantha stood from her bed and went about her usual morning routine. She went to the bathroom and started the shower, watching as the humid mist filled the large marble room. She looked at her fuzzy reflection and smiled weakly.
Everything will be fine, she thought to herself. It just takes time.
Chapter 2
Sitting in a rather small metal chair was a decorated military man named Harvey Chandler. Across from him were two of Samantha’s agents who were looking over his resume.
“I’m Mercy Reynolds. I manage all of our clients work,” explained Mercy. “And this is Roger Herring. He’s in charge of finances.”
Harvey extended his hand to Mercy and then to Roger.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.
“Likewise,” Roger said.
“This is quite impressive,” Mercy said. “You were in the Navy as an officer?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harvey replied.
“How long did you stay with the Navy, Mr. Chandler?” she asked.
“About ten years. I left with a decorated record to pursue my career in protective services. I’ve protected a number of famous artists such as Sarah Heart Jackson, William Rosewood, and The Untouchable Seven,” Harvey replied.
“That’s quite a record,” she said.
“Should we call Samantha in?” Roger asked.
“Yeah, I think it’s about that time,” Mercy replied.
Roger stood from his chair and went to the door on the opposite end of the room. After a few minutes, a blonde beauty appeared who smiled wide and held out her hand. Harvey stood immediately to shake her hand.
“I’m Samantha Miles,” she said sweetly. “I understand you’ve really impressed my agents here.”
“Have I?” he asked with a chuckle.
Samantha waved for the two agents to leave the room and sat behind the desk, raising his resume to read for herself. After a moment, she looked over the paper with an inquisitive look.
“I can see why,” she said with a grin. “This is probably the best resume we’ve seen thus far.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Harvey said.
“It says you’ve had combat training. How are you at blocking bullets?” Samantha asked.
Harvey chuckled.
“I’ve taken a few before,” he replied.
Samantha raised an eyebrow.
“Here,” he said while standing. “I’ll show you one.”
He rolled up the sleeve of his button down shirt and revealed a sizable chunk of flesh that was white and pink.
“That was from blocking a bullet for Mr. Rosewood. One of his old lovers was jealous of his new one and she showed up at his home with a pistol,” he explained.
“That’s quite a scar, Mr. Chandler,” Samantha commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a scar like that before.”
“It was nothing,” Harvey said with a shrug.
He sat back down in his chair and fixed his shirt sleeve, watching as Samantha’s face went grim. She took a deep breath and set his resume down on the desk, smoothing it over with her palms.
“Listen, Mr. Chandler. The reason we need to hire a personal bodyguard is because I had a close brush with a bullet about three months ago. I’ve been in therapy since, but I’m having trouble sleeping,” Samantha explained.
Harvey nodded with sincerity.
“I just need to feel safe in my own home,” she said in a low voice.
“I understand, Mrs. Miles,” Harvey said.
“Oh, I’m not married,” Samantha said while blushing. “You can just call me Samantha.”
Harvey smiled.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I also would like to add that you would be under my protection twenty-four hours a day. I am accustomed to staying in the home, checking the locks, and answering to the panic button.”
“Panic button?” Samantha asked.
Harvey procured his smartphone from his pocket and scooted the chair closer the desk. He opened a security app and showed it to Samantha, pointing to the different features.
“We can set up cameras in your home that will feed live into my phone. There is also a panic button that we can connect to your phone which will set my phone off whenever you press it,” he explained.
“That’s quite some technology,” Samantha commented.
“It’s the best available and it will always keep you safe,” Harvey said. “And I will, too.”
“That’s amazing,” she said.
Harvey leaned back in his chair while putting his phone in his pocket. Without hesitation, he raised his hand and caught a heavy object out of the air and sat back nonchalantly. It was a snow globe. He held it up to inspect and chuckled slightly, turning it over in his hands.
“Nice try,” he commented.
Samantha sat behind the desk in shock, laughing nervously. The corner of her mouth tugged into a smile and she rose from her chair with her arm extended.
“Welcome to the Miles team.”
Chapter 3
The clock ticked loudly from the wall behind the desk. Harvey sat in the same chair while going over paperwork with Samantha and her agents, reviewing the terms and conditions of his employment.
“Initial here and here,” Mercy explained while pointing to different spots on the page. “You’ll have full access to the mansion and to pertinent medical records. Here’s a list of emergency numbers.”
Mercy flipped through a few pages.
“And this basically says you’ll be covered under the same insurance,” she said.
Harvey listened intently to every word. He was used to the stern instruction of the military, so he listened with more than his ears. Trained eyes looked over Samantha’s hands, the way her mouth moved, and how the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. He studied her motions carefully.
There was certainly a pain hiding behind that beautiful smile. Harvey could feel how her energy was contained, even her smile was calculated, but her eyes were completely giving her away. It was possible her trauma had caused much more strife than she was letting on.
“And that’s it, Mr. Chandler! We’re glad to have you on our team,” Mercy said. “Your first task will be accompanying Samantha home for dinner.”
Harvey smiled and stood to shake hands with Mercy and Roger. He then turned and walked Samantha to the door. Mercy and Roger said their goodbyes and parted ways with them, heading for the opposit
e end of the building. Harvey stood tall next to Samantha, his chin at the height of her forehead. She looked up at him and he smiled, motioning towards the door.
“Ma’am,” he said.
“I thought you would lead,” she said while pulling out a pair of sunglasses.
“I would like to keep you in my vision,” he said.
Samantha was quiet as they exited the building and approached the limo that was waiting on the curb. Harvey instinctively opened the door, scanned the area, and then climbed into the car behind her. His eyes remained fixed on the windows, a habit he had picked up during his career.
“So, where are you from?” Samantha asked.
“I was born in New Jersey,” he replied.
“Oh, wow. I was born in New York,” she said.
“That’s pretty close to my hometown,” he said while watching the windows. “Did you grow up there?”
“For the most part. I grew up everywhere because my parents were always relocating,” she replied.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“My mother worked as an artist restoring historic houses all up the coast and my father did the architecture for them. They were quite a team,” she replied.
“Do they still do that?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” she replied with a chuckle. “They’ve long since retired. Occasionally, my mother will pick up a historical artifact to restore, but she mostly just likes to paint.”
“It’s lovely to be so well off,” he commented.
“I suppose it is,” she said.
“Well, you’re very well off, aren’t you?” he asked.
“I am, but I like to share my wealth,” she replied. “Don’t you?”
Harvey shrugged. He hadn’t given it much thought lately because he had been out of work for so long. While working for the wealthy had refined his tastes, he hadn’t necessarily picked up any expensive habits. Bourbon was always a favorite, and he certainly preferred the comfort of having privacy, but he couldn’t keep living on his savings.
“What about your family?” Samantha asked.