Guarded Read Online Helena Newbury

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)

From the author of Saving Liberty comes a scorching, standalone romantic suspense packed full of emotion. He’s a grumpy Texan bodyguard who lost everything he cared about. She’s the single mom who melts his frozen heart. She and her son might just be his shot at a second chance...if he can keep them alive.

I swore I’d never love again. After my wife and son were torn from me. I threw myself into my job as the leader of a private military team and pushed everyone away.

But while on vacation in Mexico, I see an armed gang trying to drag a woman and child from their car and run to help. The woman I rescue is Lorna, a shy single mom with curves that don’t quit and the most amazing gray eyes I’ve ever seen. We have nothing in she’s a sophisticated New Yorker trying to raise a son on her own. I’m a big, stubborn, former Delta operator from Texas. But the attraction is red-hot and intoxicating. All I want to do is run my hands over those curves, pull her to me and kiss her hard. But she and her son remind me too much of the family I lost. As soon as I’ve got them to safety, I force myself to walk away.

But the danger isn’t over. When Lorna returns to New York, someone tries to kill her, and when she asks me to be her bodyguard, I can’t say no. Now this grumpy cowboy has to put on a suit, move into her New York penthouse, and try to fit into her fast-paced, glossy life. I need to keep my distance...but how can I, when I have to be right by her side? As I begin to fall for her and bond with her son, I want a future together...but that means letting go of my past. And all the time, the danger is mounting. The assassin is closing in, and even my whole team might not be enough to stop him.

Standalone romantic suspense with no cliffhanger and guaranteed HEA

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



Nobody had ever tried to kill me before.

I’m not pretty, so there are no jealous lovers. I’m not famous, so there are no crazy fans. I’m not important or politically connected.

I’m a single mom. I’m an architect. I’m nobody.

But that day in April, someone wanted me dead, and they were rushing towards me at eighty miles an hour.

It was late afternoon and I was sitting in the back of an SUV as it sped through Mexico City. I don’t travel much. Normally, I stay safely huddled behind my drawing board in New York but for this set of meetings, the client had wanted the architect there.

They’d probably expected me to be like my dad, the CEO, with his sharp suits and expert charm. Or my brother, my dad’s right-hand man, with his good looks and cocky grin. But I’m…not like that. I’m all pale, soft curves where I should be toned and tight. Instead of their gorgeous chestnut hair, I have an untamable mass of black tresses. And instead of their easy confidence, I panic and clam up when asked to speak to a room full of people.

For three days, I’d ummed and mumbled through explanations of the blueprints. All the other women in the room had been ten years younger, lip-glossed, and sleekly efficient, and I’d felt dumpy and ridiculous. But finally, it was over: we won the contract to build the new airport and now I could go back to my safe little world of plans, calculations…and being a mom.

I turned and looked at Cody, my son. He’d dozed off, head thrown back and softly snoring, and it was a rare opportunity to look at him dotingly without him squirming and moaning Mommm! He’d inherited my dad’s strong jaw and perfect, straight nose, and at nine, he already looked like a mini version of my older brother, Miles. Miles had broken the hearts of every high-society woman on the Upper East Side and once Cody hit high school, I foresaw a lot of weeping teenage girls in his future.

I felt a pang of guilt as I watched him sleep. He was such a great kid, and he’d been so patient, these last few days. But now the meetings were done and I was officially on vacation. I grinned. Cody, my dad, and I were going to stay with Miguel, a wealthy friend of my dad’s who lived south of the city. For the next week, it was going to be nothing but lazing by the pool, ping-pong matches, and ice cream.

It was Miguel who’d sent the two SUVs to pick us up: my dad was in the other one, up ahead, no doubt with paperwork spread out over the back seat and his phone pressed to his ear. Hopefully, I’d be able to persuade him to switch off from work, too.

I glanced out of the tinted window. We were speeding through the older part of the city, past little bars and stores. People were fanning themselves with their hats: it was hot for April, pushing ninety. But in the car, everything was cool and comfortable. I stifled a yawn and settled back into the soft leather seat. Maybe I’d have a little doze, too, while we—

There was a bang so loud my eardrums ached. My head jerked up and I saw my dad’s SUV being rammed sideways by a pickup truck.

Our driver slammed on the brakes but it was too late. I had time to throw a protective arm across Cody and then our SUV smashed into the side of the pickup truck. Cody and I shot forward and our heads came within a half-inch of hitting the seats in front before our seatbelts jerked us to a stop.

I slowly sat back, panting in shock. Cody! I checked him: he was white-faced and shaken but okay. The whole front of the car had crumpled and our driver was slumped over the airbag, unmoving.

I craned forward, my chest contracting in fear, to look at my dad’s SUV. One side was caved in and with the tinted windows, I couldn’t see if anyone was moving inside.

I had to get over there and see if he was okay. I put my hand on the door release—

That’s when I saw the men running towards us, guns in their hands and ski masks over their faces.

Oh Jesus. This wasn’t an accident.

They were coming towards our car. “Lock the doors!” I yelled. But our driver didn’t respond. Either he was dead or unconscious.

“Mom?” Cody’s voice quivered. He’d seen the men, too.

I hit my seat belt release, dived forward between the seats, and craned around the driver, frantically searching for the central locking button. Where is it? Where is it?!

Just as the men reached the car, I saw a button with a padlock icon and stabbed it. There was a low clunk. One of the men pulled at the door handle and cursed. He glared at me through the window and pointed savagely to the door. Unlock it!