{"id":254401,"date":"2026-07-13T03:31:13","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T00:31:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/billionaires-bodyguard-emily-hayes\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T03:31:13","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T00:31:13","slug":"billionaires-bodyguard-emily-hayes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/billionaires-bodyguard-emily-hayes\/","title":{"rendered":"Billionaires Bodyguard – Emily Hayes"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Margot’s gaze found hers, something raw flickering beneath the composed surface. “Say it.” Ash’s throat tightened. “By caring about you as more than a client.” The words hung between them, too honest for this bright morning room with the evidence of last night still lingering in the air. Margot’s breath caught almost imperceptibly, and for a moment her mask cracked open just enough for Ash to glimpse something fierce and fragile underneath.<\/p>\n

“I care about you too,” Margot said. “That’s the problem, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes.” Silence stretched between them. Ash wanted to reach for her, wanted to pull her close and promise that they’d figure it out, that there had to be a way to have both\u2014the protection and the connection, the professional distance and whatever this thing was building between them.<\/p>\n

But she couldn’t make that promise. She didn’t even know if it was true. “So what do we do?” Margot asked finally. “We go back to being professional. Bodyguard and client. We pretend last night didn’t happen, and we focus on keeping you safe until Victoria Linden is no longer a threat.” “And then after?”<\/p>\n

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But right now, your safety is what matters. Everything else has to wait.” Margot held her gaze for a long moment, something unreadable moving behind her eyes. Then she nodded once, a small, tight movement. “Fine. Bodyguard and client.” She pushed back the covers and stood, wrapping the sheet around herself as she moved toward the bathroom. At the door, she paused without turning around.<\/p>\n

“For the record, I don’t regret it. Last night. Whatever you need to tell yourself to maintain your boundaries, don’t include me regretting what we did, because I don’t.” She disappeared into the bathroom before Ash could respond, and a moment later Ash heard the shower turn on. Ash sat in the rumpled bed and listened to the water running and tried to convince herself that professional distance was still possible. That she could spend every day at Margot’s side, sleep down the hall from her, and not want to touch her again.<\/p>\n

She didn’t believe it. But she was going to try anyway.<\/p>\n

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he headlights swept across the driveway as Margot pulled in, catching the edge of professional landscaping with manicured hedges and topiaries. She killed the engine and sat for a moment in the sudden silence, keeping her hands glued to the wheel. Her eyes flicked to the clock displaying 9:15 p.m., fourteen hours since she’d left home this morning. Just another normal workday. The house rose before her in the darkness, three thousand square feet of glass and modern lines perched on the cliffside like something out of an architectural magazine.<\/p>\n

Beyond the glass, the ocean lapped against the jagged rocks below. “Beautiful,” the realtor had said. “It’s peaceful and private.” Empty, Margot thought. But that was the whole point. She grabbed her briefcase and laptop bag, then stepped out into the March evening. The air carried that particular Phoenix Ridge chill\u2014damp, salt-laced, the kind that worked its way through expensive wool.<\/p>\n

Her charcoal pantsuit was still crisp despite a full day of wear, Armani holding its lines the way cheap fabric never could. Her heels clicked against the cobblestones as she approached the front door, each step measured and deliberate. She didn’t hurry. Even alone, even exhausted, she moved with focused intention, like someone who had all the time in the world and nowhere else she’d rather be. The security panel glowed green when she entered her code. Armed at 6:32 a.m., disarmed at 9:17 p.m. Status system normal. The door swung open.<\/p>\n

Margot stepped inside and paused in the foyer, her briefcase still in hand. Something felt wrong. Not wrong like danger\u2014 there was nothing obvious that she could name\u2014but it just felt\u2026 wrong, like the air had been disturbed and the silence itself had shifted while she was gone. She stood very still, listening. Ocean sounds filtered through the walls, that ever-present backdrop she’d stopped noticing months ago. The house settled around her with its luxurious quiet, no creaking floors, no rattling pipes, nothing cheap or unfinished.<\/p>\n

Just an absence of sound where sound should be. Her pulse quickened. She hated that. She hated the spike of adrenaline, the animal response her body insisted on despite her mind’s assessment that nothing was actually wrong. The security system showed no breach; the door had been locked.<\/p>\n

She was being irrational.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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