by Mia Carson
“These are my rooms,” she announced, hating how flustered she sounded by the time they reached her doors.
“Yes, princess. I have studied the map,” he said quietly.
“Right, of course you have.” She avoided his gaze as she pushed open the heavy, wooden doors and stepped inside. “Marie? Are you here?”
A happy blonde girl bounced out of the bedroom and curtsied to Daphne. “Princess, I’m glad you have returned early. We have so much to do to get you ready for tonight! Ah,” she said, and her brow shot up when she glanced past Daphne. “And who is this?”
“Marie, this is Matthias Georgios, my new personal bodyguard,” Daphne introduced, stepping aside so they could greet each other. “And we have plenty of time before the ball to get ready. What I could use, however, is a cup of coffee.”
Marie pursed her lips. “Princess, it’s nearly lunch time. You should eat instead.”
“Just the coffee for now, please,” Daphne insisted. “I fear I will need it to last through the endless round of dancing.”
“If you insist. Anything for you, Matthias?”
Hands clasped behind his back, he shook his head once but didn’t speak. Marie eyed him and shot Daphne another curious look before she hurried from the room, her skirt bustling about her legs. When the door closed firmly, Daphne let out a sigh and laughed quietly.
“She’s a bit overzealous some days.”
“Is that right,” Matt mused as he walked slowly about her rooms. When he shifted, Daphne noticed the bulge under his side where his jacket pressed against his side in the holster, reminding her he was not here for small talk.
“Right… Well then, these are, of course, my rooms. My bedroom is through that door if there is ever an issue, though I assure you this palace hasn’t been broken into in decades. No one has targeted my family that I’m aware of,” she added with a shrug.
He wandered towards her bedroom door and peered inside. “Still,” he said after a long moment of staring into her private chamber, “can’t be too careful.”
The flare of heat in his look had Daphne struggling to breathe, her chest tightening as she turned away from him. How dare he look at her like that? She was the princess. His eyes took in more than they should, regardless that he was her personal bodyguard. Her hand tugged hard on her earlobe, and she plastered a smile on her face as she walked around her rooms. Polite, she must remain polite.
“My days are fairly simple,” she informed him, returning to the task at hand. “Marie wakes me at seven. Breakfast is served in my rooms unless my parents request otherwise. I do not leave my rooms until eleven when I visit with the heads of our parliament and spend the day in meetings.” Her smile sagged as the sad reality of the dullness of her days hit her. “I…uh, I then join my parents for dinner and afterwards retire to my rooms.”
When she received no reply, she glanced over. Matt was studying her closely, his gaze lingering over her chest and lower to her legs. Daphne bit her lip. She should tell him to get out and report the incident to her father, but for some reason, the words stuck in her throat.
“Very well,” he finally replied. “I will be here by seven o’clock each morning.”
“That’s not necessary. Ralph was never here until nine.”
“I am not Ralph,” he said quickly. “If you are my charge, then when you wake, I will be here, and I do not end my day until you do. That is my job, princess.”
She tugged harder on her earlobe but stopped immediately when his lips thinned at the action. “I don’t expect you to shadow me for so long during the day. The other guards will be nearby for the meetings and such.”
“Princess Daphne, when I was given a job in the military, I was expected to carry it out word for word,” he explained with a tinge of bitterness in his words. “I was given the task of protecting the princess of the royal family who rules my home. I will take it very seriously, as I do all things.”
His words weren’t loud, but the promise in them was, and Daphne was so startled by it, she nearly missed his next words.
“I have several other things to take care of with Ambrose, my lady, before the ball.”
“Yes, of course,” she muttered a quick reply to his question about leaving her for the moment. “Please, do what you must. I will be here until the ball starts this evening.”
He bowed his head, backed towards the door, and left the room. Daphne stared at it, her heart pounding. She barely had time to run through their very brief and very strange conversation when a knock echoed through her room.
“Yes?”
“Cousin! Happy birthday!”
Daphne grinned as Dion, her cousin—also recently twenty-one—hurried across the room and wrapped her into a bear hug. “Dion! I was wondering if you’d show up.” She tried not to look so surprised by his good mood, but lately, he’d been sour and cranky anytime they were together.
“Why would I miss your birthday?” He kissed her on the cheek and set her back on her feet. “Supposed to be quite the spectacle tonight. Quite a few hot single ladies as well.”
“Your mother still harping at you to find a suitable wife?” she teased.
“You know how she is. Suitable enough to marry her son.” Dion sighed. “I will never find that woman.” He shoved a lock of blond hair from his forehead as he plopped down on her couch. “But lately, I just use that as an excuse to go out.”
She laughed with him and kicked off her heels, sitting down on the opposite end after she shoved his legs aside. “Must be nice to get out and see the whole island.”
He smirked. “You can see the island from your balcony.”
She kicked him as he laughed. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
Daphne tried to tame her envy of her cousin, but it was hard when he was allowed to explore the island and beyond, sailing across the open waters of the Mediterranean, while she was trapped behind the palace walls. Her parents were overprotective of her. The reason was simple, everyone knew it, and it had been years since her older sister died in a tragic accident. Yet it was that very accident that had doomed Daphne to live a cloistered life.
When it happened, Daphne had just turned six. She didn’t remember her sister well but knew she looked like their father and was strong and full of life. The death hit the family and the whole kingdom hard, but it was Daphne who suffered because of it now.
“They won’t let up now that you’re about to inherit the throne?” Dion asked, nudging her leg.
“No, probably not. That just makes it worse.” Dion was also in line for the throne—after her, of course—but since he was not in the direct line, he wasn’t kept under lock and key, nor always under guard. “I thought all night, hoping to find an excuse to get out of the ball.”
Dion shook his head. “It won’t be that bad. I’ll be there.”
“And you’ll be swarmed by ladies and watched by your mother all night long,” she teased. “I would hate to get in the way of Dion the lady killer.”
“Speaking of lady killers,” he changed the subject, “I saw your new body guard. He’s a piece of work.”
“You know him?” she asked, confused, trying to forget the heat in Matt’s eyes when they had gazed at every inch of her body.
“Not personally, but I know of him. Used to work security at the nightclubs in the city,” Dion told her. “He’s got a reputation as being a hard-ass while on the job, but when he’s not working, he’s quite the womanizer.”
Daphne pushed herself off the couch and paced around her room. “Really?”
Dion nodded. “Many of the ladies speak very highly of him, but as far as I know, he’s never had a relationship. Just one night stands. They say he’s pretty intense, too.”
That she could tell after only being around him for a few minutes. Warmth spread between her legs as her mind wondered about how good he must be as a lover for all those girls to spend just one night with him and not care. Her mind drifted, picturing him in her bed…
“Daphne?”
“What? I’m listening.”
“Sure you are,” he laughed. “What were you thinking about? Your face is red.”
She turned away quickly, her cheeks burning hotter, and shook her head. “Nothing at all. So I’ll see you tonight, then? At the ball?”
“Course. I’ll save you a dance,” he said, and she heard his steps. “Daphne, you sure you’re alright? Your mom said she thought you might be coming down with something.”
“Nope, I’m perfectly fine,” she assured him, hoping her face wasn’t as flushed as it felt.
His scrunched face said he didn’t believe her, but he shrugged and waved over his shoulder. Daphne wanted to hear what else her cousin knew about her new bodyguard, but that would’ve been highly inappropriate. That, and Dion had a big mouth. He would relay it all to his mother without even thinking what she would say to the queen. Her Aunt Agnes was not a woman Daphne enjoyed dealing with on a regular basis. Agnes was a spiteful woman, only tolerated because of her relationship to the late prince and her husband. Dion wasn’t so bad when he was by himself, but the second the two were in a room together, Daphne wanted to smack him upside the head.
Daphne knew what her aunt was really after, though she would never say it out loud. It was the other reason she was in no mood to celebrate her birthday, knowing her aunt was after the throne for Dion and would keep pushing to find a way to make it happen.
When Marie returned with a steaming cup of coffee, Daphne was seated at her large, ornate desk, shuffling through the terms for the new educational reforms she was trying to establish on the island.
“If you continue to frown like that, you’ll get wrinkles,” Marie warned.
“If I could get anyone to listen to me, I wouldn’t have to frown,” Daphne mused. “Thanks, Marie.”
“Of course, but you do not have all day for that. We’ll start getting you ready soon.”
Absently, she nodded and tried to picture herself anywhere but stuck in this damn palace for another stupid ball she did not want to attend.
Chapter 2
The afternoon went by in a flurry of maps and plans Matt had to learn for his new job, but maps and plans were second-nature for him. In the military, he hadn’t dealt much with protection details. He simply treated this as any other mission, and everything fell into place.
When he’d first arrived, Ambrose went over most of what his job would entail, but little information was given to him concerning Princess Daphne. Matt tried not to judge a person until he met him or her, but when he’d fought overseas, he’d seen firsthand how certain royals acted around those of the lower classes, and he’d waited for the haughty attitude. Add that to the rumors spreading around the city of Daphne being a shut-in, too damaged by her sister’s death to step out into the city and possibly not all there in the head, a forced image had appeared in his mind that morning on his way here. Instead, he’d been greeted by a woman he wasn’t quite sure what to do with. She certainly wasn’t on happy pills, but the way she smiled was completely fake.
Her eyes pulled him in, though, eyes filled with such passion, but for what, he had no idea.
“Time for the ball,” Ambrose said nearby, and Matt nodded, checking his watch.
“Of course. I’m assuming all invited have been cleared?”
Ambrose chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Thorough, man, that’s what I like to see. Yes, all the guests have been cleared and six men will greet them at the door to ensure there are no unwanted persons. Bring Princess Daphne to the ballroom. From there, all you have to do is stand in the shadows and watch.”
The night was going to be boring compared to the crazy pulsing of the nightclubs, but Matt figured it’d be good for him in the long run. He adjusted his tie and jacket before heading out of the surveillance room in the lower level of the palace. The halls buzzed with servants moving about, directions being given, and the other guards moving to their designated posts for the night. Each step brought him closer to Daphne’s rooms, and his hands twitched at his sides. His nerves were raw from the surrounding noise, and when he found himself alone in a hall, he leaned against the wall and gritted his teeth.
Pull it together, he yelled silently at himself. You cannot fall apart on the first day of the job.
He sucked in a few deep breaths through his nose, straightened, and strode off towards Daphne’s rooms. When he knocked a few moments later, his heart stopped pounding as hard, but his right hand twitched against his leg.
“Princess Daphne, I’m here to escort you downstairs,” he called through the door.
“One minute!” she yelled back.
Matt frowned, glancing down at his watch. “We will be late, princess.”
“A princess cannot be late to her own ball,” was the response he received, and his neck flushed with heat.
The door opened when he was ready to call through it again, and Marie motioned him inside. “Thank you, Marie,” he said roughly and stepped inside. “Princess Daphne, are you ready?”
Heels clicked across the stone floor, and his gaze shifted to the bedroom doorway. Daphne emerged a moment later, and all sense of panic disappeared in an instant. Earlier, when he was first introduced to her, he’d noticed her stunning face and near-perfect body with all its delicious curves, but her standing in that deep blue strapless dress made him realize he hadn’t looked as long as he should’ve earlier.
“What do you think?” she asked and swirled the dress around.
“I’m your bodyguard,” he said stiffly and cleared his throat.
“Yes, you are. So you can’t have an opinion?” she replied, an easy grin spreading across her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
He shifted, clasping his hands behind his back, and nodded towards the door. “Whenever you are ready, princess, we will head downstairs.”
Her smile fell, and she lifted her chin, striding quickly past him. Her dress flowed out around her and hugged everything from her hips up in way that drove his hands to twitch for a completely different reason. If she had been a woman at the nightclub, he would’ve invited her back to his place once the club closed. But she was a princess and completely, utterly off-limits.
The mantra repeated itself over and over in his mind while he led her down the corridor. Every now and then, she lifted her hand to her ear, tugging on the lobe before giving her head a little shake and forcing her arm back to her side. Nerves? No, there hadn’t been nervousness in those light blue eyes that held his gaze so steadily. Something else bothered the princess. Probably which man she’s going to dance with first, he thought. It didn’t bother him, but chasing her around the ball was not something he looked forward to.
Neither spoke as they walked down the main staircase. Music drifted through the palace and bounced off the stone walls. Matt waited when Daphne suddenly stopped. He glanced around, his hand drifting to the gun holstered at his side. There was no one around them but servants.
“Princess Daphne?” he asked uncertainly.
“Right, sorry,” she muttered.
She rolled her shoulders back and strode gracefully towards the ballroom where two servants waited to open the door. One of them knocked loudly, and the music fell silent on the other side. A man’s voice called out her name, and the double doors swung inwards. Daphne stepped through to the sound of clapping and cheering. Matt slipped in behind her and immediately moved to the side and out of the way.
From his years in the military, he’d learned to have a good eye for spotting trouble. Sitting behind a high-powered rifle with only a scope to see through and a man calling out targets, he had to be good. Otherwise he’d be dead.
Daphne shook hands and hugged guests decked out in tuxedos and colorful dresses ranging from blues to pinks. With his eyes trained on her location, he clasped his hands behind his back and settled in for a long night of watching. The king and queen stood at the head of the room, their four bodyguards and Ambrose flanking them.
“I see you made it down with no trouble,” a voice came over Matt’s com in his ear.
“Yes, sir,” he replied to Ambrose’s gruff voice.
“The night should run smoothly. You’re allowed to not look like you’re ready to tackle someone,” he said with a chuckle.
“This is the only face I have, sir,” Matt said tightly.
Behind his back, his hands fidgeted when the music grew louder. His feet shifted and he began to second-guess his choice. Her laughter broke through the crowd’s talking. Daphne. The laughter was forced—anyone paying attention would notice that—as was the smile plastered on her face. That aside, the sound grounded him, and he focused solely on its sweetness.
***
For the most part, the night was less stressful than Daphne assumed it would be—until she heard her aunt’s shrill cackle across the room. All her positive vibes shattered with the noise.
“Daphne! Where is my beautiful niece?”
Cringing as she brushed her hair from her face, Daphne collected herself before answering. When she turned, she grinned and held out her arms to embrace her Aunt Agnes. “Aunt, I’m glad you made it. We were worried you would be too busy.”
“To celebrate with you? Never,” she crowed, holding Daphne’s face a bit too tightly in her hands. “You look more like your mother every day.”
“Dad says the same thing,” she replied, waiting impatiently for her to let go. When she did, Daphne forced her hands to stay at her sides and not rub her cheeks. “Dion says you’re trying to find him a wife again.”
Agnes nodded stiffly, and the smile left her eyes. “Yes, well, you are both in line to find spouses and carry on the family name. Part of being heirs to the throne.”
Daphne’s smile hardened at the not so subtle hint. It was well known Agnes wanted her son to take the throne when the time came and not Daphne. Though Daphne’s father was the king, he had not been the eldest son. Agnes had married the eldest in line to the throne when the previous king died. But, as fate would have it, her husband, Daphne’s Uncle Evander, died of a heart attack before the death of the king.