The Bodyguard's Prince (The Royal Wedding Book 1)

by Caroline Lee

  It was inconvenient.

  Her grin was back as she twisted and jabbed, and one time dropped to her hands to sweep his feet out from underneath him. And when he jumped straight up to evade, and brought his heel down for the back of her neck, forcing her to roll out of the way, he realized he was grinning too.

  “See, Your Highness?” She was panting when she jumped back up to her feet. “It’s all a dance.” A quick one-two jab, her still smiling. “We punch and block and twist and move—”

  She spun, her foot out, and he caught her ankle before it drove into his side.

  Another moment of stillness, while she waited for him to throw her. Instead, he finished her sentence. “Together.”

  Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, and Alek knew his matched hers. It had been a good workout. He couldn’t imagine doing something like this with Marcia.

  “Together.” She nodded. “You’re a good dance partner.”

  One of his brows rose, and he felt her pulse pounding through her ankle under his fingertips. “I don’t see how. You keep kicking my ass.”

  Her lips pursed, and he wondered if she was trying not to laugh at him. “True. But your size makes us well-matched. I get a better workout with you than with Rogers or Karanov, because I have to take them out fast or get beaten to a pulp.”

  Alek resisted the urge to run his hand up her calf, reminding himself he was practically engaged. Instead, he lifted her foot a little higher, forcing her to go up on her tiptoes if she wanted to maintain her balance.

  “I can’t decide if you just complimented me by saying I’m a good partner, or insulted me because I can’t beat you to a pulp.”

  Under that shaggy blonde short hair—sweaty now from their workout—her blue eyes widened mischievously. “You are my employer.”

  “And thus responsible for your health care bills.”

  “Yeah,” she drawled. “And I can’t afford to insult you. No matter if I can take you out with one hand tied behind my back.”

  Tough words for a woman whose leg was being held four feet off the ground. Still, Alek’s growl wasn’t serious when he pushed her away. “I liked it better when you were complimenting my dancing skills.”

  She kept her balance—of course—as she brought both feet together. “Just different kinds of dance, sir.”

  Yeah. His smile was a little tighter when he nodded in agreement. She was an American, raised on a ranch out in the Wild West. She’d gone into the army, she’d learned all this kung-fu business…she kept her hair cut military-short, she wore her black uniform and carried her weapon like she was born with it.

  He was the crown prince of a nation, next in line to rule. The latest in a forty-generation line dating back to Magnus the Great, and had been raised knowing his position and his power. His poise, his responsibility.

  Different kinds of dance, indeed. He knew all the steps for his kinds of dances—the waltz, the foxtrot, even the tango. But this? He wasn’t sure he knew how to dance with her.

  “You’re distracted again, Alek,” she cautioned as she stepped towards him.

  The warning blinked him back to reality. Damn. How come he only did that around her? He lifted his hands to block whatever she threw his way, but to his surprise, her hands were loose by her sides. Another trick? But she was still coming closer, only a step or two away. He didn’t want to back up, to give ground…but what was she planning?

  Toni stopped in front of him when she was close enough to touch. Close enough that if they both took a deep breath at the same time, their chests would brush against one another. And Alek had the almost-overwhelming urge to try.

  “Alek…”

  The way she drawled out his name as she blinked up at him made him realize his mind had wandered yet again.

  Instead of admitting his fault though, he merely raised a brow down at her.

  Her little lopsided smile should’ve been his first warning.

  Her little wink should’ve been his second.

  But she still took him by surprise when she hooked her knee around his, pulled him off-balance, and threw her weight against him.

  “Think fast,” she whispered just as they hit the floor, a tangle of arms and legs.

  The man was just too darn dreamy for his own good. And not just dreamy in that “Oh-Em-Gee, he’s got a dimple!” sort of way she giggled about with her sister, but dreamy in a “get your head out of the clouds, dude” way. Which was funny, because everyone else in this kingdom thought he was a focused and devoted leader.

  In fact, when Toni had first started working for him, she’d thought Prince Alek was a total stick in the mud. He didn’t know how to relax or have fun or joke about anything. She remembered complaining to her little sister, Lin, back in Idaho about how Alek was so wrapped up in his own importance and devotion to duty.

  But now that she knew the man, she knew he was only that way because he was devoted to duty. He wasn’t that way for his own glory, but because he cared so deeply about his country. Only problem was, all of that went out the window when he was sparring with her. She had to actively work to keep his attention focused on her next blow…because no matter how satisfying it was to beat an opponent, it was a little embarrassing when it was your employer. A prince.

  Still, that didn’t stop her from taking advantage of it. She liked the way he looked down at her like he was trying to figure out what she was up to…right before she hooked him and slammed him down against the floor.

  She couldn’t contain the wince, either. Not just because she went down hard with him—bouncing off his chest, to be exact—but because his head clonked against the floor loud enough for her to hear.

  “Are you alright?” She lifted herself up on her palms—still pressed against his chest, which she tried not to notice thankyouverymuch—and peered anxiously down at him.

  His grey eyes sharpened. “Did you just barrel into me like we were brawling?”

  If he was well enough to snap at her… “Oh, is that what I did? Barreled into you?”

  “Yes,” he said archly.

  “Then, yep.” Her smile was fake, but bright. “Just like we’re brawling.” Leaning a little closer, she lowered her voice. “Anything’s fair in war, Your Highness. You’ve gotta be ready.”

  To her surprise, she felt his hands clasp around her upper arms. What was he—?

  With a quiet grunt, Alek lifted his hips and twisted on one elbow, and then she was pinned beneath him.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d been pinned under a man. Heck, it wasn’t even the hundredth time; she’d sparred enough and lost enough that she knew all the best ways to get up from under an opponent.

  But it was the first time since the assault that she didn’t feel…dirty being under a man. This was the first time where her first instinct wasn’t to freeze, then to buck wildly to remove him. This was the first time where the feel of his muscles and the warmth of his skin made her want…

  More.

  “I believe the phrase is ‘All’s fair in love and war,’ Dryden.” He was smirking down at her, and oh dear God his dimple was showing.

  She was in trouble.

  From far away, someone began to clap, and Alek blinked, the spell broken.

  The mocking call came from the other side of the gym.“It’s about time! I thought she was going to kick your butt from here to Oslo and back again!”

  Alek rolled off her, and offered her a hand up. Toni, still feeling a little weak-kneed, accepted his help and gladly let him pull her to her feet. Across the room, someone laughed at his own joke, and she watched Alek scowl at one of his brothers.

  It was hard to tell which one, but judging from the fact the man was strapped into a climbing harness and was dangling by one hand three stories off the ground, it had to be Kristoff. That prince spent more time in the gym—and dangling from cliffs, swimming across open water, sailing out in the bay, and hang gliding—than anyone else in the kingdom. Apparently he didn’t mind spying on
others while he did it, either.

  “Just ignore him,” Alek muttered under his breath as he stalked towards the benches. Some servant always made sure there was cucumber water—I could get used to this royal treatment!—and folded towels after their sparring matches. “He’ll go away.”

  Toni, still trying to understand her body’s reaction to him, followed at a more sedate pace. “I’m not so sure. He’s busy.”

  Alek snorted as he rubbed a towel over his short hair and neat beard, then left it dangling around his shoulders. “Nah. He’s really just hanging around.”

  The pun was delivered in such a dry tone, it took Toni a moment to get it. When she did, she stopped in her tracks and groaned out loud, adding in an exaggerated eye roll for good measure. He smirked and tossed a fresh towel to her, which she grabbed and used to wipe the sweat off her face and neck.

  Their after-sparring cool-down routine was familiar, and they did their stretches in companionable silence. Toni did her best not to stare at his butt, or his muscles, or his—

  Eyes front, Dryden.

  “So…” She needed something to talk about, so she didn’t have to think about the way it felt to be under him, and how disturbing it was to feel that way about her boss. “Now can you explain why your mother marrying her Science Advisor is such a bad idea?”

  Alek grunted, pulling his elbow in a stretch. “They’re not…well suited.”

  “Why not? Because he’s a scientist and she’s queen? Are they in love?”

  “Love is irrelevant when it comes to royal marriages.”

  The surety in his voice made Toni look up in surprise from where she was sitting on the floor mat. He really believed that?

  “Love is relevant to all marriages.” She thought about her little sister Lin, so in love with her new husband Brandon, and building a life together out in Idaho. “It’s essential.”

  “No, it’s not.” Smoothly, Alek moved into another stretch. “Royal marriages are about compatibility, and alliances. They’re about public image.”

  Her mouth dropped open. What? This isn’t the medieval ages! “And…” She had to clear her throat, she was so incredulous. “And you don’t think her Science Advisor is a good, ah…public image?”

  He grunted again. “Dr. William Hayes might be brilliant, but he’s a bumbling American fool who doesn’t know a thing about court life. He’s a terrible match for my mother.”

  Her eyes had widened at “American.” Did he consider all Americans fools? Beneath him? Well, you were beneath him a minute ago, girl. She scoffed at that part of her brain. Quit reminding me.

  But was it the being American part which made Dr. Hayes unsuitable for Queen Viktoria? Or the bumbling part? Or was there more Alek hadn’t mentioned? Toni grabbed her foot and pulled, stretching the muscles in the back of her leg. Why was Alek objecting so vehemently to this match?

  And how come he was so adamant that love didn’t have a place in royal marriages?

  She wanted to ask, but despite their closeness of a minute ago, despite the fact he was speaking to her as an equal, it wasn’t her place. He was the crown prince of Aegiria.

  And she was just his bodyguard.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Toni scanned the room once more for anything out of the ordinary, then dropped her eyes back down to the book she was reading. In the months since she’d been assigned to Alek’s personal security team, she’d gotten good at that; she could scan the room once every thirty seconds without losing her place in the paragraph, and without having to consciously think about it.

  Of course, it helped that they were ensconced in his personal study, deep within the palace. Other than that large picture window behind his desk—where he now sat, peering at his laptop—the only other egress was the door which led out to his suite of rooms. So she didn’t have a lot to scan.

  Still, it was good she could do it with only half her brain, because this was an interesting book. She hummed as she flipped the page.

  “What?”

  When she looked up again in surprise, Alek was staring at her, a slight frown pulling his lips downward.

  “What, what?”

  “You said ‘hmm.’ Is everything alright?”

  She hadn’t realized he could hear her. Holding up the old book, she shrugged. “I’ve just gotten to the thirteenth century. Do you know Magnus Haraldsson was originally granted this island by the King of Norway, but managed to defend it so well because of the strategic position of the bay and the capital, he declared himself King instead? That took some guts! He named his new kingdom after the word for “sea” and it’s still the longest-reigning monarchy in Europe.”

  His lips tightened, and she could see a hint of his dimple. It wasn’t a smile, but at least he wasn’t frowning anymore. “I’m descended from him, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Sheepishly, Toni flipped to the front cover, where A History of Aegiria was picked out in gold leaf. “Sorry. I guess I don’t have to tell you all this, huh?”

  “It’s nice to hear my country’s—and my family’s—history appreciated. But Arne is the one to talk to about that sort of thing. He’s the one who’s always looking to the past for inspiration. It’s up to me to look to the future.”

  “Good point.” She did another scan of the room, on reflex, and nodded at him once more. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

  He waved the apology away, then sat back in his fancy leather chair with a groan. His hand went to his temple. “I’m happy for the break, really. These economic reports are dry.” He waved his other hand at the laptop as he massaged his temple. “We’ve got an oil company drilling in one of the few non-protected fish management areas, and while it’s really helping our GNI, I’ve got to weigh that against Mack’s team’s report about environmental impact.” He sighed, and rubbed both temples. “I’d much rather be waving at people and kissing babies.”

  Toni’s lips tugged up in a half-smile. “I can imagine.” Those reports sounded boring as hell. “Making your head hurt?”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “No, not really. I think it’s the stress from yesterday.” He’d presented to the City Council about expanding into the public lands, then sat through a formal dinner with the Chinese ambassador—Toni and Karonov had gone to both events, since they were off palace grounds. “And I’m still smarting from when you beat me up last week.”

  The notion she might’ve hurt him during their last sparring session—how did he not mention that?—had her tossing the valuable book on the side table and leaping to her feet. “Highness? How can I help? An ibuprofen or something?”

  His grin was wry when he waved away her offer. “It was just my pride you hurt.”

  She froze, halfway to his desk. His pride? “You pinned me, as I recall.” And boy, did she! She recalled it all too well…often at night, lying alone in the barracks.

  “You want something to drink?”

  The change in topics took her by surprise. “What?”

  “I could go for a brandy.” He nodded to the little liquor cabinet in the corner. “You want one?”

  “No, sir.” She was already crossing to the cabinet. She wasn’t a servant, but hadn’t liked the hint he was suffering. If she could help him… “I’m on duty. Besides, I don’t like brandy.”

  “Fair enough.” He huffed quietly. “How about bourbon?”

  She halted, one hand already clasped around the neck of the brandy bottle, and glanced back at him. His head was resting against the back of the chair, his eyes closed.

  “You’ve got American bourbon?”

  “I don’t think everything to come out of America is a complete waste of time, you know,” he quipped with his eyes still closed.

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said sarcastically, and liked the way his lips twitched in acknowledgement.

  Just for that, she did pour herself some bourbon, and brought it with her as she crossed back to his desk. When she placed the brandy beside his elbow, Alek stirred.

&nb
sp; “Thank you,” he murmured sleepily.

  It was close to dinner time, and she knew his schedule was open for the rest of the evening. Dare she suggest he just go to sleep? Not that she wanted to be rid of him, but she didn’t want him pushing himself too hard.

  Because it would suck if her employer made himself sick, she assured herself. That was the only reason for her worry.

  He made no move for the brandy, so she placed her untouched bourbon down too. Her fingers itched to do something, to help him somehow. When he tilted his head slightly and let out what sounded like an involuntary little groan, she gave up fighting it.

  “Lean forward,” she commanded softly.

  When he did—with a heavy sigh—she pressed her fingers into his scalp, squeezing the pressure points behind each ear and down the back of his skull. He moaned louder, and relaxed under her hands.

  “Holy crap, that feels good,” he whispered.

  She smiled and continued, rubbing at points in his scalp with her fingertips, where she knew he must be storing stress and pressure. “Headaches are caused by these muscles being tight. Where does it hurt most?”

  He twitched slightly. “Right there. Above my ear—oh, yeah,” he finished in a happy groan, and tilted his head to allow her better access.

  “Yeah, I can tell.” Her fingertips scraped through his thick, dark hair, usually so finely styled, then down the back of his head to his neck. The muscles down there were really tight too. “And the more stress you’re carrying around in your neck and shoulders, the worse it’s going to be for the ones in your head.” She kneaded those muscles, the way she used to do back on the ranch. “You’re all knotted up.”

  After several minutes of massage, he let out a huge sigh. “I hadn’t realized how tense I was. Thank you. I know it’s not in your job description, but…I needed that. I guess I should’ve booked a session with whoever Kristoff uses down in the gym, but this was…it was nice.”

  Shrugging, Toni didn’t stop rubbing his neck. She liked the way his muscles felt under her palms, even if he was wearing a suit. “No problem. I can guard you from back here as well as—well, probably better than sitting across the room reading.”