“I need you to increase Mallory’s protection level to full-time. Make it the same as Genevieve’s and Kelsey’s.”
“No. Sorry, Christian, but we agreed when she returned to Moncriano that she’s not at risk in the palace. I’ve got a few trainees who are ready to move up to active service, but I won’t waste them on babysitting duty.”
“What happened tonight proves otherwise.” Christian found himself relieved to finally share his excitement about Mallory with his best friend. “And she’ll be more at risk when everyone finds out she’s with me.”
There was a long pause. Elias picked his drink back up and tossed it down in one long gulp. “With you, with you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re dating a woman in a serious way?”
“Yes.” Christian knew Elias wasn’t choosing to be a jerk about it. His track record with women, and thus his reputation, was to flirt, fuck, and then be finished. No dating. Nothing serious. What was the point, when he knew at the end of the road a royal bride chosen for him awaited?
Elias leaned back. Rubbed a hand across his chin. “Kelsey’s sister?”
“I feel like this is a prime time to point out that Mallory is not, technically, Kelsey’s sister. And thus not related to me by blood in any way, shape, or fashion.”
“You should get that printed on a T-shirt. You’re going to have to remind people every day.”
“I doubt it. Those same people would be quick to label her an American and not worthy of living under the roof with royalty. They can’t have it both ways.”
“See, that’s logical. Gossipmongers and tabloids are rarely logical.” Elias shifted to rest his ankle on his knee. “Kelsey doesn’t know?”
“Not yet. That’s not my doing. It’s between her and Mallory.”
“How long have you two been dating?”
“We haven’t. Nothing official. We, ah, hang out—”
“You’re sneaking around with her.” A quick grin brightened Elias’s face. “God, that’s hot.”
“You should know. You did it with Kelsey for long enough. We didn’t mean for it to happen. Then we didn’t say anything because it couldn’t happen again. But tonight made me realize how much I want her by my side. How I want to cuddle her tonight in that bed while we laugh about the narrow escape from the bubble-bath bimbo.”
“I knew Mallory was brave after the shooting. But to choose to take you—and all your princely baggage—on, well, that’s a whole other level of bravery.”
“She hasn’t chosen. Not yet. But I’m sure she will.”
Waving a hand, Elias said, “Hang on. You want me to raise security and she hasn’t even agreed to it yet? Forget my permission. Maybe you should ask her first.”
“Right. Shit. That feels like a major oversight. What else do I need to know?”
“About what?”
Was his friend being a pain in the ass on purpose? “About how to date a woman. I’ve mastered the forty-eight-hour fling. I’ve got zero clue how to make this work past four days, though.”
Elias let out another booming laugh. “This is going to be fun.”
“Fine. Ridicule me.” Christian topped off their drinks. If he couldn’t have Mallory in his bed yet, he’d sure as hell settle for getting sloshed with his best friend. “I don’t care, as long as I get my time with Mallory.”
“You really do have it bad.”
“Yeah. She’s the best possible person for me right now.”
Elias leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. And the teasing vanished from his tone. “Right now? Mallory’s not that kind of woman. And you don’t want to put her through the wringer unless it’s for real. Which it can’t be.”
“Damn it, I know all of that.” The unfairness of it made him want to chuck his glass into the fireplace. “But yes, right now? They’re trying to get me to kick my father off the throne. I’m trying to hide his illness from the entire realm. We just narrowly averted a coup by the prime minister.” Christian drained his glass. Thumped it onto the table. “Everything is hard. Lousy. Screwed up. Mallory, right now, is the one good thing in my life. So don’t be a pain in the ass and tell me why I can’t have her.”
“You’re asking a lot, Christian. I’m not pushing back as your bodyguard. I’m pushing back as your friend, who can see there’s no possible good outcome.”
“In the long run. But Christ, I’m barely keeping my head above water. She’s my buoy. I just need to sort out the whole king issue. I need her for that. It’s selfish. I know we’ll both get hurt. Eventually.”
Elias got up to refill Christian’s glass. “Glad I’m not the one who has to break it to Kelsey that you’re going to break her sister’s heart.”
“Far likelier that she’ll break mine,” he muttered. Something else he’d worry about later.
After sucking in a deep breath, Elias said, “Okay, fine. Here’s tip number one. Don’t pull any of your prince stuff on her. She’s the most important person in the room at all times, not you.”
“I know that.”
Elias leaned back, grinning again. “Then you’ve got half a chance of not fucking this up before lunch.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
Chapter Ten
Alcarsa Palace needed to install moving walkways, like at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. Or maybe have those rentable electric scooters parked in every wing. Mallory’s toes jammed against the too-pointy tips of her shoes with every step of the lengthy trek from the private residences to the East Wing offices.
“Why did Prince Christian ask to see me in his office?” she asked her bodyguard.
“To go over new security protocols. Due to the break-in two days ago. The woman in his bathtub.”
Sofia said this either 1) like Mallory already knew, or 2) it was an everyday occurrence for the Playboy Prince.
Mallory wasn’t thrilled with either scenario. Not that she had any claim on Christian whatsoever.
It didn’t stop her from wishing things were different. That there weren’t so many—or such significant—barriers between them dating.
Wishes, however, didn’t change the facts. Pining for him wouldn’t help, either.
Girding herself against his charisma, his charm, his kisses…that was the order of the day.
They’d gotten away with two more days of blissful make-out sessions in the Dolomites. Every repeat, though, pushed their luck at keeping it a secret. Back here at Alcarsa Palace, the touching and the smooching had disappeared. It was back to being just friends.
Friends who shared breakfast together every morning.
Friends who reviewed schedules so they could find the time to nip away into the Rose Drawing Room and secretly share the highs and lows and laughs of the day.
Friends who texted each other once the official obligations were over and they lay in separate bedrooms just down the hall from each other.
Friends who relied on each other for comfort. Who’d become so close, so integral that it felt as if they were in their own private bubble. One that Mallory should probably pop sooner rather than later to protect her heart.
Sofia knocked, and after receiving permission to enter, gave a short bow and opened the door. “Milady.”
Mallory slowly entered, her steps soundless on the thick carpet. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the ornate gold frame around a painting of a vicious storm at sea battering an old-style galleon. It hung over a deep-blue brocade sofa fronted by a low table. There was a fireplace, of course, and over it was a sheathed sword with an ornate hilt and white tassels drooping from it. It looked military—from his navy uniform, maybe?
The dark-blue walls gave it both a masculine and somber feel. It couldn’t have been more opposite from Kelsey’s bright office.
Its serious vibes threw her for a loop. This was a place w
here Christian worked on speeches to deliver to foreign leaders. Or discussed economic shortfalls, or prepared to moderate tricky truces between warring nations.
Mallory knew her standing in Alcarsa Palace was somewhat…undefined, due to its unique nature. But she also knew that nothing about her lady-in-waiting role would need to be scrutinized in Christian’s office.
“It feels like I’ve been called to the principal’s office. Or what I imagine that dread would feel like, since I never got in trouble at school. Oh, wait, you call them headmasters in this country, don’t you?” She was babbling. Nerves.
That pissed her off, and that annoyance burned off the nerves in the next breath.
That’s right, Mallory Wishner was a straight arrow who never did get in trouble.
No cause for alarm. Or nerves. Or anything but the easy, competent confidence that fit her like a second skin back home but was wholly under the fake it till you make it category here in Moncriano.
Christian stood behind a desk big enough to hold a plated dinner for six. “You’re not in any trouble.”
“Whew. I thought maybe a footman ratted me out about trying on that suit of armor at the bottom of the south staircase.”
His dark-blond eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Old Hermann? Did you really?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Chuckling, Christian gestured for her to sit at one of the chairs facing him.
“So what’s with the official escorted summons? Aren’t you too busy doing substitute king things to deal with low-level security issues? You couldn’t just text me? Or have Sofia explain whatever’s going on?”
“Yes. She could explain the how of it. But not the why of it.”
Ah. Talking in vague circles. How very politician-y of him. He looked the part, too, in a brown suit with a navy-and-chocolate striped tie, set off by a matching pocket square. Despite being somber and buttoned up, her every sense perked up into full alert being this near to him.
Her fingers shot to rub the charms on her bracelet, a comforting habit that had popped up fast. “I hear you had a bathtub visitor.”
Why’d she blurt that out?
And why’d he look all guilty and squirmy about it?
Christian loosened the knot of his tie. Then his hands fiddled with cuff links so old and ornate they might as well have come from da Vinci’s studio. “I was trying to keep that particular item under wraps. So as not to worry anyone. Let me assure you that she did not present any danger.”
“Uh, no. I’m not buying it.” The surroundings appeared to be decorated to highlight the power of the man behind the desk. But the woman on the other side of it? No meek pushover. Nor one who blindly accepted whatever half truth got dished out. “She presented enough danger to increase all of our security. I can add two plus two and get to four, Christian.”
“Not everyone’s security was raised. Only yours.”
That was alarming.
Paranoia-inducing, after one loyal citizen of Moncriano had already put bullets into her this year.
Well, better to know for sure than worry herself wide awake at three a.m., staring up at her canopy. Which already happened often enough. Her physical scars were mostly healed. But in the middle of the night, her subconscious still kicked into scary flashbacks.
“Tell me straight, Christian. Was I targeted?”
“What? No.” Christian squirmed even more. Which would be adorable, if only Mallory had a single clue what all this was about. He palmed his forehead, dragging it up and over the top of his head in a fast swipe. “Hell, I’m making a mess of this already. Annaliese—the bathtub bimbo—had no interest in you, believe me. You’re safe, Mallory. I promise.”
Okay. She’d buy that for now. And make a mental note to double-check with Sofia later, since she seemed dialed in on the whole encounter. “Then why?”
“It must be obvious that I’ve never done this before. I’ve started backward and frightened you.” He squinted his eyes shut, sucked in a deep breath, and then let it out on a nearly endless sigh. “Talk about the least romantic conversation ever.”
Mallory was quickly nearing the point where she’d bribe the man with every bill in her purse to get to his point. She was so lost. Confused. “What’s romantic about security?” For that matter, why have a romantic conversation in his office, of all places?
“Like I said, the why of it.” Christian gave his head a shake so sharp that his neck audibly cracked. Then he pushed up from the desk to circle around it. In a quintessentially romantic move, he dropped to one knee in front of her. “Mallory, I would like you to be my girlfriend. To go steady. To be my main squeeze. I had to Google that last one—did I get it right?”
“The idiom? Yes.”
Was this what real shock felt like?
The nurses said she’d gone into shock in the ambulance after the shooting. Not to make light of her near-death experience—although if she couldn’t, who could—but this felt exactly the same. The sensation of time slowing down. Of being very aware of every pump of her heart. Dry mouth, slightly queasy…
Yeah. Either she was somehow losing two pints of blood again, or Christian had thrown her into actual shock with his…request?
“That’s why you get increased protection, Mallory. It automatically kicks in for whomsoever’s involved with the heir to the throne. As a precaution.”
“Whomsoever? I’m sorry, I don’t speak in Canterbury Tales English.” And yes, she was quibbling over something ridiculous, but that was easier than facing the impossible thing he’d just asked of her.
“So I’ve asked you with no finesse and with the wrong words.” Christian’s head drooped forward. “I’ve totally cocked this up,” he muttered. When his head rose swiftly, his eyes burned like purple stars. “I’m going to kill Elias.”
Mallory patted his cheek. “Christian. Stop. Breathe. Then start over. What does Kelsey’s boyfriend have to do with this?”
“He told me that I should ask you. I wanted to just keep kissing you, but do it more publicly. Take you out. Stop sneaking around. I knew you’d figure it out, as would everybody else. But Eli insisted that we have a conversation, to make it official. Because apparently taking me on as a boyfriend might be a huge pain in the ass.”
Well. The words had come out machine-gun fast. The tone and volume had increased with every sentence. Her prince appeared…worked up? All signs pointed to this being for real.
Nonetheless, Mallory did not, could not, believe him. He might as well have asked if she wanted to cross Niagara Falls with him on a tightrope.
Naked. In winter.
Blindfolded.
Backward.
“This is nuts. You’re not serious? You’re just pulling some horribly mean prank? A hazing to go with the heirloom bracelet?”
“Of course I’m serious. Elias, too. Five minutes with him and he’ll have you convinced that I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
She wasn’t sure about the pain in the ass part.
Mallory was sure, however, that the prospect of what he suggested was absolutely terrifying. Because yes, of course, she wanted to do a high kick and squeal at the prospect of dating Christian-the-man.
But after watching Kelsey adjust to being a princess—grudgingly, at best—Mallory was aware that taking this step would also mean dating the heir to the throne. The crown prince. The royal whom all his subjects adored.
The entire kingdom had been holding their breath for almost a decade over who would be good enough, perfect enough, potential-queen enough to marry their prince. An open sports book had been going on in both Monaco and Vegas for the last five years as to who would become his bride.
Dating Christian would not be a run-of-the-mill, casual attempt at ongoing intimacy.
It would probably be a train wreck, and Mallory herself would be the flatten
ed victim at the end of it. The whole time they dated, the betting would be about how soon they’d have to break up so that he could get engaged.
And yet…she couldn’t say no to this man.
She’d make him say it instead. Make him recant. “Christian, you’ve got a short list of vetted brides.”
He stabbed his fingers through his hair and stood. “This isn’t a proposal. I’m asking for a date. Dinner out. A stroll along the river. Or a pub and darts again, if that’s what you’d prefer. A chance to be together without constantly looking over our shoulders to see if anyone’s noticed us together.”
A bark of laughter erupted from her. Rather like a seal horking up a fishing net. It was even less romantic than his asking for a date by offering heightened security. But Mallory couldn’t hold it back.
“If you and I go on a date, outside of the palace, I guarantee you that everyone will notice us together. All eyes will be on us.”
Christian dismissed her comment with a wave. “Whatever. We won’t feel guilty about being seen.”
Mallory stood, too. She didn’t want to crane her neck to look up at him. She wanted to be on the same level as him—figuratively, since he topped her by a few inches even in heels. And yes, she needed space while she steered him toward realizing this was a bad idea.
Because right now she felt the heat of his calf against her knee. Smelled the pine of his cologne. Her fingers tingled with the need to touch his skin.
Damn it, it wasn’t fair that she couldn’t be with this man.
But it also wasn’t fair that Kelsey was no longer her sister.
It wasn’t fair that she’d gotten shot and probably couldn’t bear children.
Not fair seemed to be the theme of Mallory’s time in Moncriano.
She strode the length of the office until a floor-to-ceiling bookcase stopped her forward motion. “Your grandmother, your Parliament, your realm—they’re all expecting an engagement announcement from you in the next few months. It has been pointed out that is your job. Securing the future of the House of Villani. I’d be nothing more than a…distraction from what you must get on with doing.”
Tempting the Prince (Sexy Misadventures of Royals) Page 13