Callum held his breath and wondered if Elizabeth would alert the bodyguard to his presence. She did not answer right away as if she needed to think about what to do. That was a good sign for Callum. If she threw him out, he would just come back.
"I'm fine. Just finishing getting dressed."
"Of course."
Victor waited at the door for a second longer before Callum heard him leave and Elizabeth closed the door. She whipped her body around. Her fists balled at her sides. Immediately his mind envisioned what he would like to do to her against that door.
"It is beyond inappropriate for you to be in here, Major." Her words were as icy as her glare.
He stood up ready for the battle he had expected. "And what was that little display that you just put on."
His head would be messed up for days trying to deal with seeing Elizabeth in black lingerie and garters. He jammed the memory in the back of his mind just so he would not be rendered comatose on her couch for the next couple of hours.
"That was not inappropriate. That was me getting on with my life." Elizabeth did not yell or raise her voice, but spoke and a clear, clipped tone as if she was a teacher and he was a student about to get expelled.
Somewhere between her closet and the bedroom door she had put her mask back on. One hundred percent princess. One hundred percent in control. He refused to let her get away with it. He needed to break through her defenses for the mission and for himself.
"And how's that goin' for you? This life of yours." He asked trying to match her calm demeanor.
Callum saw an emotion flash across her face, but it disappeared too quickly for him to put a name to it.
"Just fine. Until . . ."
Elizabeth bit off the words and pushed herself away from the door.
"Until what? Until I showed up?"
Callum put his hands in his pockets and pivoted away from her. He needed a moment before things got more out of control than they already were. This was not the way he expected this meeting to go. He prepared himself for a thousand scenarios, but never had he considered he would play voyeur to her sexy display of confidence. He could not get the image of her hands caressing her leg out of his mind. Although he needed to. And fast. He took a deep breath and turned back to face her.
"Listen, there is a lot that needs to be said. At lot that I need to answer for. I know that. But first we need to figure out how to be in the same room without you wanting to kill me or me wanting to pick you up and carry you to bed." He spoke with more calm than he felt.
Her sharp intake of breath made him look up just as she released her fists from the tight balls that had turned her fingers red. It was the only emotion she showed him. The only insight that his words had an effect on her.
With her head held high, she glided back to her vanity, took a seat carefully avoiding the mirror, and began to blow-dry her hair. Callum would never know if it was the high whirling sound of the hairdryer or the sympathy he felt for her scalp as she yanked the brush through her hair with sharp tugs, but something propelled him forward. He reached the vanity in three strides. Without pausing he jerked at the hairdryer cord and pulled the plug out of the socket. The room went silent. If they were somewhere else, the look of shock on Elizabeth's face would have been funny. But there was no room for humor between them. Not anymore.
"What the hell do you think you are doing, Major?" She turned on him with fire in her eyes. He would take the fire over ice any day.
"I came up here so we could have a few moments to talk without an audience."
"We have nothing to say to each other. You need to get out of my room now before I call Victor back and let him deal with you." Her expression was as firm and her tone. He knew that she would not hesitate to act on her threat, but he continued to push.
"You know as well as I do that we cannot run into each other at meetings and events for the next two days and pretend like everything is normal. We barely kept it together at the luncheon."
Her sharp laughter cut him like razor. "Major Evans or whoever you are…"
He put his hand on his hip and ran his fingers though his hair with his other hand. Things were getting out of control fast. He wanted to punch Edward in the face for sending him here.
"Elizabeth, damn it. I know what happened, what I did, was unforgivable. But we need to get around it. Move on."
"Oh, have no fear of that. I have moved on. And, if you do not leave this room immediately, I will not only have you thrown out of the palace, but I will have you removed from the delegation and this country."
He leaned against the wall dressing room wall and crossed his arms across his chest. He needed to tread carefully. If she got him thrown off the delegation, his mission would be over. Of course, that was only half the reason he needed to backtrack. This encounter had exposed his underbelly more than he wanted to.
He shook his head and spoke in what he hoped was a light-hearted tone. "It wouldn't be the first time someone had me kicked out of their country."
"That is not a stretch of the imagination."
Elizabeth refocused her attention to the mirror and reached for a silver clip that was laid out on the vanity table with other things he did not recognize but assumed had some purpose. Callum watched amazed as her long hair disappeared into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. On most women that type of style would come off as matronly, like a librarian or a strict dorm mother, but not on Elizabeth. The hairstyle accentuated her high cheekbones and slim neck. A few strains escaped the confines of the clip to hang by the side of her faces adding a softness as if they were just whispers of promises to come. She had always had the uncanny ability to rob him of all thought with no warning. This was one of those moments.
A whisper escaped from his lips. "Elli."
Elizabeth stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers. The color drained from her face. He could feel her pain and disbelief like a tangible thing between them. He almost regretted using his special name for her, but it had felt good on his lips.
She stood-up abruptly turning her back to him as her arms hugged her body. When she finally spoke her voice was no louder than a whisper. "Don't ever call me that."
Callum took a tentative step forward wanting to find some way over this chasm between them. He needed her to understand. "Elli, I had a duty . . . you were a job that . . ."
He heard the crack of the slap before he felt the pain on his cheek. Her next words were like icicles stabbing him in the heart.
"You will address me as Your Highness or Princess. You are not family or a friend and you have taken great liberties with a past you obviously have more sentiment for than I do. Leave. Now. I would hate for this to turn any uglier than it already has." The anger in her firm voice demand resonated deep within him.
In that blink of a moment, something had changed in her. Callum would swear that the temperature of the room dropped twenty degrees. The ice princess was back with a fury. Elizabeth marched to the door with a back so straight Marines would weep with pride. After opening the door soundlessly, she stood by it like a sentry.
"Now, if you would please go, Major Evans, I need to finish getting ready."
Callum was stunned. Angry. Frustrated. They might not have a future, but damn it, they had a past. And one he was not ready for her to forget.
He strode to the door and slammed it shut with one hand. He left his palm pressed to the door so she could not open it again. A flash of panic in her eyes was quickly replaced by heat. Good. He wanted to give her a little back of what she just gave him.
"Say my name."
He ground out the words. His voice was low and hard. If he heard her call him Major one more time he would explode.
Her lips parted as she stood next to him, but no words came out. His eyes rested on her mouth.
"Say my name." His voice became a raspy whisper as his held back the last vestiges of control.
"Major Mc . ."
In a swift move, he dropped his hand and reached
for her. His hands held her upper arms and he twisted her body so her back was pressed against the door. He braced his arms on either side of her head and boxed her in. Her head titled up and her eyes sparked with a dangerous combination of passion and anger.
He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Say my name, Elli. I need to hear it."
He leaned over and rested his forehead against hers. Her warm breath caressed his cheek when she spoke.
"Callum."
If he had been any further away, he may not have heard it. But he did, and his heart constricted from both pain and joy. A moment passed, and he pushed away from the door.
She could deny it as much as she wanted, but there was still something between them. And Callum needed to make sure she knew it, too.
Defensively, Elizabeth tried to take a step away from him, but her movement was hindered by the door at her back. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself. Callum smiled as he grabbed the thick belt she had wrapped around her waist and pulled her toward him. Her arms went slack at her sides at the abrupt movement. He brought her close enough to him that he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get her words out, Callum placed one finger against her lips. This was not her turn to speak.
"I'm going, but know this. No matter how much you deny it, we do have a lot to say to each other."
He could feel her preparing to protest. He shook his head and put a slight pressure against her lips with his finger.
"And it will be said before I leave here in three days." Her eyes sent the sharp words her mouth wanted to speak.
"You can't forget what we had and neither can I." Callum spoke with a quite force in his voice.
He was about to release her and let her go - for now. But, instead he drew her even closer as his finger moved from her lips to slowly trace along her jaw with his fingertip. He drew a slow path that stopped in the center of the hollow just below her throat. He could feel her blood racing through her veins. She flushed as his body pressed against hers.
Callum bent his head bringing his lips close enough for a kiss. She followed his lead angling her head to accept him. Her eyes fluttered closed contradicting her earlier words that she wanted nothing to do with him. Just as he was about to take what she was offering, he stopped himself. Maybe it was for his own sanity. Maybe he needed to show Elizabeth that she could not control everything all of the time. Just a breath away from touching her, Callum filled the space with whispered words.
"And the next time you feel like you need an audience just let me know. I will be more than happy to oblige. See you at the ballet tonight."
With that he let her go, opened the door, and walked out of the room. He wished the listening device he planted in her room had video. He would pay big bucks to see how she would deal with him giving at little of what she gave him. Mission aside, he wanted her perfect princess mask to crack just enough so he could see if the Elizabeth he remembered was still somewhere inside.
Callum ran his hand through his hair more shaken by his encounter with Elizabeth than he would ever admit to anyone. He had been face to face with deadly terrorists and his palms remained dry as a bone. But ten minutes in the same room with Elizabeth and he was like a schoolboy who accidentally walked into the girls’ locker room. Awe struck and scared at the same time. Lust and regret were strange emotions.
He maneuvered his way through the palace, glad he did not run into anyone besides the countless servants that moved silently up and down the endless halls doing the royal family's bidding. He was unconcerned about the video feeds he knew he was on. Acting like he belonged usually kept most people from asking too many questions. Except for Victor. Callum heard his voice call to him just as he was about to take a side door that lead to the car park.
"Have you misplaced your group already?" Victor asked as he walked toward Callum.
Callum pivoted and pasted on a smile. "We have not had a chance to meet yet. I'm Major Callum Evans with the American delegation." Callum offered his hand and pumped up his smile to what he hoped was an aww-gee-shucks level.
"I know exactly who you are, Major. I saw you for the first time four years ago in Honduras."
Victor's heavy Slavic accent made the words sound ominous. The man in the black sedan. Callum has only seen a glimpse of who drove the king's car on that fateful day four years ago. So, Victor did know exactly who Callum was. Well, that made things more interesting.
Callum assessed the bodyguard. He was likely somewhere in his mid to late forties, but Victor's boxer body had not gone to flab. He was dressed all in black as if he had been typecast as a James Bond villain. If the situation arose where he had to take Victor on, Callum was honest enough with himself to admit that it would be a tough fight.
It was not Victor's six foot three frame or his shoulders that resembled the steel girders underneath the Brooklyn Bridge. It was something else. Something more deadly than brute strength. It was the look of pure determination. It was clear to Callum that Victor took his duty to Elizabeth very seriously. Comforting if Victor was on the right side of crazy, but scary as hell if he was the link to AP they were looking for.
The men stood across from each other in a silent battle of wills. Victor's brown eyes felt like guided lasers as they looked into his. It felt as if the man was trying to read his soul. Good luck with that, Callum thought. Hollow like the Tin Man. He forced himself to maintain a relaxed posture underneath Victor's scrutiny until the man finally blinked.
"Why are you here?" Victor asked.
"I'm a member of the delegation. Just offering my services for the good and peace of both of our countries."
Callum continued to play it cool. He understood Victor. They were cut from the same cloth. Victor would stand back and let things play out and wait for Elizabeth to call foul before he pounced. Callum was sure Victor would let Elizabeth call the shots. Knowing that Callum and Elizabeth had a history worked in his favor and would kept Elizabeth's guard dog at bay at least for a while. He hoped. But that did not stop Victor from probing for information.
"I am more than aware of what type of services you are capable of offering and none of them ever lead to good and peace. So, I will ask you again. Why are you here?" Victor's voice was calm, but deadly serious.
Callum was half temped to tell him the truth just get his reaction. Callum would know in a second if he was the link they were looking for. But, Callum needed to play his cards close to his chest for a while longer, at least until he knew who was who.
"Vic, I told you. I'm just here . . ."
Victor raised his hand as if he heard enough of the lies. Too bad, Callum had a bag full of them. "I suggest you stay away from her. I don't care why you are here. My only hope is that you leave as soon as possible."
"Now that's not very welcoming of you, Vic."
Victor turned up his lips in what might be called a grin.
"Go home, Major Evans. There is nothing for you here."
Victor gave him one last look before he turned and walked back down the hallway away from Callum. Callum made additional mental notes about Victor for the analysts and headed outside. He slid into his rental car and drove down the hill into the city. He took the long way to the farmhouse Edward had secured for his team to make sure no one followed him.
The old farmhouse sat just on the outskirts of the city. From the description Sam gave him earlier, their makeshift headquarters was a small stone structure with one large room that served as dining room, kitchen, and living room downstairs with two small bedrooms upstairs. It only took Callum fifteen minutes to make it to the house. He pulled his car into the barn and scanned the property making a note of the ingress and egress options. Always prepared. When he was sure everything looked good from outside, Callum headed across the field to the house.
Callum found Sam sitting at the small wooden table in front of a bank of monitors and electronic gear. Even after working with Sam for over six years,
Callum could barely identify any of the specialized instruments he used. Chief Master Sergeant, Sam Forester, was a communications genius. He could break into commuters, tap a telephone, and listen to a conversation taking place half a world away all without breaking a sweat. They had met during Hell Week. A three-week training program all Army Special Forces candidates were forced to endure. A candidate quickly learned that survival was more about mental strength than physical aptitude. Rank and background did not matter. No one made it through that class without using their mind and working as a team. And the two of them had been a team ever since. Sam was the closest thing to a family Callum had ever had.
Sam held one finger as Callum walked into the room. Understanding the signal, Callum remained silent as he pulled off his suit jacket and took a seat across from his friend. He was prepared to wait until Sam was ready to talk. Callum looked at the man who was sometimes mistaken for his younger brother.
They both had dark hair, olive competitions - Sam's from his Italian father and Callum's from his Spanish mother - as well as a similar build, but in Callum's opinion that is where the likeness ended. Sam was as tough as nails in a firefight, and Callum would never doubt that his friend would go to hell and back for him. He had proved it time and time again. But there was something about Sam's easy-going personality and belief that in the end all was good with the world that reflected in his physical appearance. Of course, if Callum had grown up in a family like Sam's, he would be smiling all of the time too.
Sam came from a huge Italian family and was one of five siblings that were all close. Callum's started his career as a Marine Corps Gunny Sergeant who saw his job as father no different than his job for the Marines. Focused more on rising through the ranks than caring for his child, Callum ended up being raised by an overwrought mother who barely left her bedroom and then a series of boarding schools.
Princess Bodyguard Page 6