The Guardian of My Soul (Soul's Desire)

THE GUARDIAN OF MY SOUL

Soul’s Desire Series

Book 1

EMILY A. LAWRENCE

Start the Series with The Guardian of My Soul, Book 1 in the Soul’s Desire

Kristen Mancuso, daughter of a renowned fashion designer has everything her heart desires, and yet she’s still unhappy. After her father’s death, her mother’s overprotectiveness has prevented Kristen from choosing her own path in life, and she often feels as if she’s a prisoner in her own home. Kristen thought her twenty-first birthday would magically bring her the freedom she craved. She was wrong. When her mother hires Alec Warner to be her personal bodyguard, Kristen rebels against it, unaware of the true reasons why he’s needed and the very real danger threatening her safety. Having someone shadow her every move is the last thing she wants. Alec is handsome, intimidating and determined to stand between Kristen and anyone who would harm her.

Kristen doesn’t know what to do with Alec. She’s drawn to him, and while he is committed to his job, he refuses to allow her to control him the way she does with other men. Their relationship is volatile and explosive, yet they discover they have more in common than they ever dreamed. Together they face demons from their past and secrets which could tear them apart.

Alec and Kristen fight their attraction for one another, but that’s one battle where losing may very well give them everything their souls desire…

*Content Warning: intended for mature audiences 18+

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my mother, Ana.

Thank you for your love, support, enthusiasm, and for being the best mother anyone could possibly wish for.

AKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the following people for their help and support:

To Sable Hunter, a HUGE thank you for all that you have done for me, for everything you’ve taught me, and for all the help in making this book better than it started out. Your friendship is priceless and I am more than thankful for having met you.

To Orry Benavides, thank you for your editorial advice, for our long chats and for being such a great friend.

To Jess Hunter, for helping me polish this book and for the words of encouragement.

To Isobelle Cate, for your input and friendship.

To Becka Lynn, for doing the final proofreading.

To Barb Caruso, for the beautiful cover art.

To Debbie Workman, for keeping me organized and for the help with marketing and promotion.

To the beta readers – you’ve been a tremendous help.

To all my friends, the wonderful men and women from all over the world, whom I’ve had the privilege to meet in the past year. You know who you are.

* * * * *

The author acknowledges the trademark status and the following trademark owners mentioned in this work of fiction:

Apple, Louboutin, Chanel, BMW, Aston Martin

PROLOGUE

I had been waiting. My arms felt empty. The bed was big and I was so lonely. A noise from across the room drew my attention. Relief. He had returned. Every molecule of my being welcomed him.

His broad shoulders filled the doorway. A single lamp glowed from the bedside table across the room, casting a dim golden glow over the rippling muscles of his torso. The man had a body to die for. Shirtless, with jeans riding low on his hips, he stood there. As always, I strained to see his face, but it was shrouded in shadow. My imagination took over. I didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were kind, or his lips to know they would be as tempting as the rest of him. Just the sight of his blatantly male silhouette made my mouth water. As I stared, my breath hitched in anticipation. My pulse raced in my ears so loud, I could hardly hear my own thoughts. His powerful legs strained against the soft denim, offering a view which made my heart pound. My hungry eyes feasted greedily on his bulging pecs, then moved lower, skimming the flat, defined muscles of his abs and lower still. I couldn’t help but stare at the prominent ridge of his arousal.

Desire washed over my body like a summer storm. My lashes fanned across the curve of my cheeks and I forced a deep breath when he stopped at the foot of the bed. “Do you want me?” he asked.

“Oh, yes.” I managed to whisper. A shudder of heat made me tremble.

His fingers unsnapped his jeans and pulled the zipper down. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he moved them over his hips until they slid down his legs. His glorious body radiated its masculine perfection.

A flutter of excitement tickled my stomach as he moved on top of me, sliding his hands up my legs and under my nightgown. “I love your skin. It’s like silk.” His mouth feverishly worked its way down my neck and across my shoulder, his warm breath caressing my sensitive flesh. Oh, how I ached to be touched. Burying my face in his neck, I inhaled his clean woodsy scent. I wanted to kiss him, to flow over him like water. Everything about him assaulted my senses, turning me on almost past the point of endurance. There was an intense throbbing between my thighs and the lace panties I wore were becoming damp. Arching my back, I rubbed my fingers through his hair, urging him on. Guided by my moans of pleasure, he cupped my breasts over the soft fabric covering them and squeezed gently, kissing the valley between them. He lingered there, causing an instant rush of euphoria to wash over me. I found it hard to be still. I wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible. His fingers slid across my stomach, toward my wet center. Instinctively, I opened my legs for him, craving his attention.

“I need...” I whimpered. Drawing my bottom lip between my teeth to muffle my cries, I squeezed my eyes shut when he slowly grazed the sweet spot at the apex of my thighs. My hips bucked and every muscle in my body tensed, my breath coming in short, little pants.

All too soon he stopped, and my eyes sprang open in protest. I reached out for him, but my hands closed around nothing. Bewildered, I shook my head in disbelief. He was gone. There was no sign of him, as though he had never existed. My soul mourned the sudden sense of disconnection and emptiness. I was lost. So lost...

CHAPTER ONE

The morning sun crept through the red silk curtains. Playful rays of light danced across my face, drawing me out of my dream. Drowsy and confused, I tried to ignore the fire in my loins, the passion pulsing through my system hotter than anything I’d felt before. The faceless man had come to haunt my dreams again, leaving me wanting each time. My body was so heated and sensitive. I trembled with the need to make love.

Kicking off the cover, I groaned. I was tired of waking up frustrated. How I wished I could attach a face to the smoldering hot body who seduced me in my sleep.
Who am I kidding? Men like him didn’t exist.
Exasperated by the repetitive dream, I rolled out of bed on a sigh and padded out onto the balcony in desperate need of some fresh air.

The Beverly Hills mansion I shared with my mother came with a fabulous view of Los Angeles. Just looking at the rolling hills north of Sunset Boulevard calmed me. I welcomed the sound of birds singing cheerfully in the trees surrounding the property, the rustle of leaves as the wind blew ever so lightly. The fragrance of lilac drifted over me, soothing my soul. I took a deep breath, inhaling the warm scent of summer. My life was filled with every luxury my heart could desire, but I dreamed of learning and growing outside the influence of high society and the endless California sunshine.

As I gazed into the distance, a smile formed on my lips. There were only two days left until my twenty-first birthday. An unexpected rush of adrenaline and anticipation sprang through me. Soon, I would be my own boss. No one would tell me where to go or how long to be gone. I felt eager to experiment and do more things on my own, things my overprotective mother did not allow me to do. Being free of the constant security she foisted on me would be a heaven-sent relief. There were so many places and people I was interested in. I wanted to go to Stratford-on-Avon and see Shakespeare’s home in the U.K. I longed to hike the Appalachian Trail, or ride a gondola along the canals in Venice. More than anything else, I wanted to study jewelry design in Florence. Mother was a talented fashion designer, yet I wanted to create my own unique and personal vision of beauty, instead of hers. We had not discussed any of this, but after my birthday things would be different.

A shadow passed over the manicured grounds of my parents’ home, pulling me out of my daydream. A cloud had obscured the sun. Even though I looked forward to whatever celebration Mother had planned, something would be missing.
If only Dad could share this special day with me.
Numbness threatened to incapacitate me as I remembered the good times I would never have with him again. I missed my father desperately. When I closed my eyes, I could see him holding out his arms to hug me, or walking across the fields at the ranch in Kentucky, the colorful autumn leaves decorating the ground at our feet. When I was sad, he was always ready to hold me close and listen to my troubles. Just the memory of how much he loved me and knowing I would never see him again made me feel weak, so I leaned against the railing for support.

Overwhelmed by the flood of nostalgia, I made my way back inside and slipped out of my silk nightgown before heading to the shower. Still fighting the tears on the verge of escaping, I pulled my hair up in a French twist and stepped under the warm water. Letting it fall directly on my face, I hoped it would soothe my body and wash away the sadness. What could I think about that would make me happy? Oh, yeah—him.

In minutes I was engulfed in steam, and my thoughts drifted to my dream guy and our passionate lovemaking. I felt my breasts swell and a tingling started between my thighs. I craved the touch of a man more than I was ready to admit. My fingers burned as I clutched the shower gel in one hand and the sponge in the other. This was not something I usually allowed myself to do. My stress levels were high and I needed to relax. With a tentative touch, I pulled on my nipples, moaning at the exquisite sensation it gave me. Slipping my fingers between my legs, I began to caress myself. Oh, it felt so good. I wanted...

Stop it!
The words echoed in my head. I fought against my body, forcing it to obey me. There was a reason I was seeing Ian. There was a reason I couldn’t afford to let myself go.

The shower didn’t have the effect I had hoped for. In fact, I left more dissatisfied than ever before. My head was spinning and I had to steady myself on the sink basin, staring at my reflection in the foggy mirror. Hazel eyes blinked back at me. They looked red and weary, not glowing like they could be when I was happy.

Reaching for a towel, I wrapped it around myself and emerged from the bathroom, only to find our old housemaid, Gilda, making my bed.

“Oh, good morning, Miss. I thought you’d left the room already,” she said, giving me an apologetic look.

“Morning, Gilda. Is Mom up yet?”

“Yes, she’s outside by the pool. She said she’s not going to work today and she’s waiting to have breakfast with you.”

“I think I’d like to eat on the terrace. It’s a beautiful day,” I told her before disappearing inside the dressing room. The weather really wasn’t my prime concern. A week had passed since my phone and computer had been confiscated. Being out of touch with my friends was horrible. Who knew what wondrous things were happening all around me? Yet here I was, cut off from all whom I normally conversed with on a daily basis.

Usually, it was Mother’s overprotective instincts which motivated her to keep a tight rein on me. This time, however, her reasoning for limiting my contact with the outside world was to keep me from discovering the location of my twenty-first birthday party. As I slipped into a bathing suit, I rehearsed my argument. I was on a mission.

*  *  *

I came down the wide marble staircase leading to the large entrance hall. My gaze absently wandered left and right to the living room area decorated with mahogany furniture and objets d’art, then to the dining room big enough to host twenty guests. The last time we’d hosted a party, Megan and Matt had played footsie under the table. I smiled at the memory, unable to stem the tiny flare of jealousy inside me.

Halfway down the stairs I stopped dead in my tracks. My eyes widened in confusion at the sight of a man standing in the hallway next to a couple of large suitcases. A very handsome man. An inexplicable jolt caused my body to shudder the moment our eyes met, sending an electric awareness rippling across my flesh. Suddenly, I felt exposed, the tiny blue bikini showing too much skin to the unexpected visitor. My heart rate rose as I took in his appearance. Tall, powerfully built, with tousled light brown hair and intense emerald green eyes, he was seriously good-looking. I caught my breath, chewing on my lower lip as I forced myself forward, slowly descending the remaining steps.

His sensual looking lips parted in a silent gasp. “Hello,” he greeted me politely. The sound of his deep, sexy voice sent a shiver down to my toes, a reflex I couldn’t control.

Something powerful stirred in me when I got closer. Musk. Heat. Spice.
He smells like the man in my dream!
And what a sexy smell that was.
As I passed him with my eyes cast down, trying to appear indifferent, it was like I moved through an energy field. My whole body sizzled at his nearness. “Hi...um...excuse me.”

“Of course,” he returned. His voice made me want to melt like warm butter on a biscuit.

Oh, this is not good.
I panicked. “Mom!” I hurried out the door toward the pool, leaving him staring after me.

Mother’s eyes were closed while she was resting on a pool recliner, listening to music on her iPod. For a moment, I just stood and gazed at her. Even though she cramped my style sometimes, she always made me feel grounded and safe. She was forty-five years old, but had the looks of a woman half her age and I was fortunate to have inherited a modicum of her natural beauty. Some said we could easily pass for twins if it weren’t for the fact she was a blue-eyed blonde, while I received Dad’s less spectacular brown hair and more boring hazel eyes. A former model, she was now the owner of a successful fashion enterprise, famous for her beautiful, innovative designs. If I had my way, someday we’d be adding my line of jewelry to her fashion house.

The sudden appearance of the pool boy distracted me. He was gawking at us again. Attention like this made me nervous. I shook my head at him, causing him to flush and drop his head in embarrassment.

Mom’s eyes flickered open. “Kristen.” She smiled, pulling the earphones out as she got up to hug me. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, you know…I don’t like to be leered at.” I stared in his direction, not appreciating the attention he was giving me. I didn’t consider myself to be class conscious, but I knew the rules. I had heard them all my life. One did not fraternize with staff.

She followed my gaze and laughed when she saw the boy glancing back at us wide-eyed. “He thinks you’re beautiful, and he’s right. Don’t worry, he knows his place.” She winked and patted my shoulder before heading to the terrace where Gilda was serving us breakfast.

“Mom...” I followed her, remembering the real reason I was so nervous. “There’s a young man standing in our hallway and he has luggage with him.”

“Oh. That must be Ryan’s son.” She grinned, taking her seat. She placed some grapes and a few slices of cantaloupe on her plate. “Would you like a croissant?” She offered me the plate of pastries.

“No, thank you.” I wasn’t interested in baked goods. I wanted to know the scoop on the beefcake by the stairs.
Ryan’s son? Damn.
“I didn’t even know he had a son.” With exaggerated intent, I focused on the coffee I was stirring, watching the cream swirl into the dark liquid like a never ending spiral. His identity didn’t please me. I wasn’t sure who I wanted him to be, but our Head of Security’s son wasn’t it.

“He’s divorced and has two children, a boy and a girl. They both grew up with their mother in San Francisco,” she informed me while pouring her own coffee from the carafe. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Remembering the dream, I blushed a little. “Not really. What’s he doing here now?” My body tensed as I awaited her explanation.

“Ryan asked him to come and help out with security at your birthday party.”

My initial attraction to him bothered me. It had been a long time since a guy had made me feel anything. “And he’s sleeping here?” I was certain that having him around me was not a good idea.

Mother gave me a pointed look. “Yes, he’s taking the opportunity to spend some time with his father. He’ll have his own room next to Ryan’s. You won’t even know he’s here.”

“I still don’t see the point in having so many guards,” I replied, the entire situation making me uneasy. I sank into my chair and pouted a little. Things were not working out as I planned. I wanted more freedom, not less.

She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. Then a bright smile crept over her face as she stared up behind me.

Standing there was Ryan Warner, Mom’s personal bodyguard and the man she most trusted when it came to our safety. After more than ten years of working for her and living with us, he was like part of the family. The line between staff and friend blurred when it came to Ryan. I liked him, even though he often vexed me with his overprotective nature. Nothing escaped him and he always made sure Mom knew exactly where I was and what I was doing. Ryan was a tall man, fit and imposing—definitely someone I’d rather have on my side. His piercing green eyes seemed to see right through me, as though he had X-ray vision.

“Mrs. Mancuso, please forgive me for interrupting your breakfast. I’d like you to meet my son, Alec,” Ryan said proudly.

Mom stood up and walked over to greet him. “Hello. I’m Lillian. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Alec. Your father has told me so many nice things about you.” She beamed.

“Good morning, madam. Alec Warner at your service,” he murmured politely, and brought her hand to his mouth in a salute. All the while, I was imagining how his kiss would feel against my skin.
Damn! I have to get hold of myself!

“My daughter, Kristen Mancuso.” She gestured toward me.

I swallowed nervously, feeling my nipples grow hard. Quickly, I glanced down to see if they showed through the material of my swim suit. When I looked up, he had a knowing smile on his face. He knew exactly what was happening. I couldn’t help feeling irritated at myself for reacting to his nearness and at him for noticing.

“Hello,” he greeted me once again.

“Hello,” I replied, not getting up. For some reason this man made me feel things I wasn’t used to, and I didn’t want him to see I was weak in my knees.

Alec reached out for my hand and I reluctantly offered it to him. The mere contact of his calloused fingers with mine sent flames of delicious fire sizzling along my nerve endings. The sensual attraction I felt for him unnerved me and I couldn’t take a deep breath. As he leaned in to kiss my hand, my eyes riveted on his five o’clock shadow as it gave him a mysterious, raffish quality. I had often fantasized what it would be like to be kissed by a man with sexy stubble, to feel the rasp teasing my skin. While his lips were pressed to my hand, his green eyes were holding mine captive in a heated gaze, glittering with something unnamed. I couldn’t tell whether it was a trick of the light, but I simply couldn’t look away from him. Astonished by the powerful effect he seemed to have over me, I quickly freed my hand from his gentle grip. Even as I stared at him, I could feel a hot flush climbing my face and my breasts swelled. Now I was afraid to look down, as there was probably a wet spot at the front of my bikini bottoms. For some reason I felt he could see right through the thin material as if it were invisible, my body totally naked to his eyes.

“Ryan, please have Gilda place him in the empty room next to yours,” Mom instructed him. “And Alec, I’m glad you’re here. I know you’ll take very good care of my daughter.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You can count on that,” he replied, giving me a sardonic grin.

His father seemed happy also. The man hardly ever smiled. “I appreciate your kindness, Mrs. Mancuso. The guests have confirmed their attendance. I’ve specifically asked everyone not to divulge the location of the event to keep the press at bay. However, we can’t rely on their cooperation. So, I’ve supplemented the security team with additional members. Alec and I will make sure all of them know the game plan,” he assured her.