by Mia Carson
If that bastard laid one hand on his woman, he’d rip his freaking throat out and feed it to him.
Matt smirked, picturing Dion out of their lives for good, when the door opened behind him and he turned, ready to take Daphne to the luncheon in the grand hall. The four men she’d met with stomped out of the room.
“That woman… The nerve of her mouth,” one of them said bitterly as he shook out his suit jacket. “If the queen heard her speak that way to us, I doubt they would let that child have so much power at her fingertips!”
“To think she believes Dion and Agnes could actually be involved in such nonsense,” the second wrinkled and white-haired man muttered. “Ridiculous.”
They continued their insulting ramblings down the hall, leaving Matt holding back the urge to punch the four old men. He walked into the conference room. “Princess?”
She stood at the far windows, tugging her ear, her body slumped. “Yes?”
“The luncheon will be starting shortly, my lady,” he said as he approached her. “Shall I tell them you won’t be able to attend?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
When she still didn’t move, Matt walked back to the door and checked to be sure no one was around before he closed and locked it. “Daphne? What happened in here?”
She sagged, and Matt moved to her side to pull her into his arms. “Nothing good, like always. Why do I do it? Why do I keep fighting so hard when all everyone wants to do is kick my legs out from under me?”
“Because your people’s future means more to you than yourself,” he told her. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll be your legs if need be. I’ll be your arms, your voice—hell, I’ll be your damn punching bag if you run out of things to smash in your rooms.” He chuckled when he earned a laugh for his efforts.
“I wish we didn’t have to hide this,” she said longingly.
Matt kissed the top of her head. “One day, maybe, but one step at a time.”
“Right. Matt? If I ask you for something, will you do it without fighting me on it?”
His brow furrowed, and he knew before she even asked he was going to hate it. “What exactly is it you want?”
“A night out in the city,” she replied. He stepped away, shaking his head. “Please? Oh, come on, just one night outside these freaking stone walls.”
“Do you understand how dangerous that could be if we’re seen?” he demanded.
She nodded. “I know, but… Matt, I just sat there and had four men tell me that Agnes has raised so many concerns with my reforms and my ability to lead that even the people are voicing their doubts. Out loud on the streets, Matt. They’re turning down my rule before I even get a chance to show them who I really am.”
The pain and desperation in her voice tore at him as nothing ever had, and he sighed, hands on his hips, his head hanging. “On one condition,” he growled. “If we go, you will listen to me and do whatever I tell you to, do you understand me?”
“Yes, of course.”
“No fighting my orders and no hurling anything at me,” he added as an afterthought. “You might put on a fake smile well enough, but I’ve never seen one person with so much pent-up rage I’m worried she’ll take my head off with a lamp.”
Daphne grinned sheepishly. “I swear it.”
He rubbed his forehead and the blooming headache forming. “I’m going to regret this.”
When she jumped into his arms and kissed him hard enough to set his blood on fire, he knew there was nothing he would ever regret with Daphne in his arms. It would be impossible. His hard-ass demeanor shattered when she was near, and there was no putting it back now.
“We should get you to the luncheon before you’re late,” he said against her lips and reluctantly set her back on her feet. He shifted and tried to be sure his erection wasn’t visible as he moved for the door.
“What are you going to do while I’m there?” she asked, oblivious, as always, to what she did to him.
Thinking of all the ways I’m going to pay you back for that kiss, he thought.
“Checking in with Ambrose. I want to know what happened last night at the docks,” he told her. “I’ll be back before it’s over.”
“Too bad I can’t come with you,” she mused as they exited the room.
“What’s this luncheon for, my lady?” he asked formally as several servants passed by.
“The latest donors for the new hospital built in the outer coastal town,” she told him. “I should be thrilled to see such generosity, but they don’t do it for the people.”
Matt nudged her arm, and she glanced at him. “You will be a great ruler, my lady, and when you are, I’ll be by your side, one way or another.” The promise of his words hung between them until they reached the grand hall.
He left her to join people who assumed that they knew who Princess Daphne was beneath that smile. Only he did, and it filled him with a sudden need to drag her away from all of this… to keep her safe. She was his and only his.
A little while later, after Matt had changed into his more formal attire, he tracked down Ambrose and Jeremiah in the surveillance room, talking with their heads together. “Sir,” Matt said as he approached. “Any success last night?”
Ambrose shook his head and slammed a stack of files down on the table. “No, we turned up nothing and didn’t even find a shipment that came in at midnight. We have nothing.”
Matt cursed. “Sorry, sir. I thought I heard them correctly.”
“I don’t doubt what you heard,” Ambrose said. “I underestimated how sophisticated Dion’s system is and how many hands he’s greased lately. We’ll keep trying to poke holes in his company. Sooner or later, something will show up. I just hope it’s not too late.”
“Too late, sir?”
“It would be ideal to stop him before Princess Daphne takes over, of course,” Ambrose said. “One less thing for her to deal with, the better.”
“Of course,” Matt said, but Ambrose’s eye twitched when he spoke. “Are there any more plans to search the docks again? Maybe we can bribe one of his men, turn him against Dion and Agnes.”
Ambrose shook his head. “At the moment, no, but we do have an inside man.”
“And what did he say, sir?” Matt demanded.
Ambrose shot him a look—warning him, but why? The other day, Ambrose had been thrilled that Matt was being proactive about the situation, but now, when they were getting closer to answers, Ambrose wanted him to shut up about it?
“Nothing. Now, Matthias, I believe you have a princess to guard,” Ambrose said, dismissing him. “If we find anything, I will tell you at once.”
Matt nodded and backed away for the door. When Jeremiah caught his eye, he motioned for him to follow. Once out in the hall, Matt and Jeremiah removed their coms, and the first asked what was wrong with Ambrose.
“He’s pissed, that’s what. Has been since this morning,” Jeremiah told him.
“Because of the lost shipment?”
“No, it happened after a phone call,” Jeremiah whispered. “Something’s not right about this whole thing. Couldn’t tell you what’s going on inside that man’s head right now.”
Matt leaned in closer. “You don’t think he’s involved in this too, do you?”
Jeremiah looked over his shoulder at the older man and frowned. “Before, I would’ve said no way in hell, but the way things have been playing out lately… I can’t be sure.”
Matt knew Ambrose by reputation. Most of the commanding leaders in the Apostolos military did. The man was highly decorated and had never faltered in all his years of service. There was no reason to believe he could be working with Dion and Agnes unless there was something they were all missing.
“Let me know what happens here,” Matt said. “If he gets anymore phone calls.”
Jeremiah saluted him and the men went their separate ways. Matt didn’t know Dion well enough to understand what the man’s limits were, and an unknown enemy was additionally dan
gerous. Before he escorted Daphne back to her rooms that afternoon, Matt made a pit stop at his room and called one of his old military buddies, asking him to keep an eye out for Dion Eridian and let him know if anything cropped up.
Matt triple-checked his Beretta, added his military-issue knife to a sheath at his lower back, and tucked a second at his ankle in his boot, just in case. He wasn’t just her bodyguard anymore. He was a soldier, first and foremost, and a soldier with a love under threat was more dangerous than anything else on this earth.
Dion would be sure to learn that if and when he tried anything. For Daphne’s sake, Matt hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But the dark voice in his head prayed to God it would so he could wipe the smug smirk from that man’s face.
***
Someone called her name, but Daphne’s eyes didn’t want to open. Her mind protested, and she grunted, annoyed, when two strong hands covered her shoulders. When they shook her, her eyes shot open and she cursed.
“I’m awake, promise,” she said and stood, nearly head-butting Matt in the face.
He raised his brow and glanced at the papers she’d scattered all over the floor. “No, you’re exhausted, and you don’t need to be doing this.”
“Course I do. He’s my damn cousin, isn’t he?” she argued, rubbing her face vigorously and bending down to pick up the papers.
They’d been at it for hours, taking advantage of the king’s and queen’s absence to escape to her rooms without the worry of being disturbed. After Matt told her they’d found absolutely nothing at the docks, she was even more determined to make the allegations stick. After everything he’d done to ruin her reputation, it was time she gave him the same courtesy. He was family, after all, wasn’t he?
“You’re smirking,” Matt pointed out worriedly.
“Yes, and?”
“Do I need to rescue the new lamps before you shatter them?”
She smacked him with the papers and plopped back down on the couch, sitting on more files she’d set aside for one reason or another. “No, but I think you were right about that dark side of you affecting me.”
Matt stiffened. “Daphne.”
“Kidding, Matt… sort of,” she added. When he didn’t relax, she set the papers down and reached for his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… All these years, I’ve been kept in the dark, and now that I finally have an inkling of what the hell is wrong, I have to find a way to fix it.”
His lips thinned and his jaw clenched in a way that made her want to cup his face and kiss him until the sun came up. “I know,” he groaned as he sat down beside her, “which is why I helped you dig up all these files to begin with. Daphne, you have to swear to me you’ll be careful. Your cousin… He might have more people under his belt than we think.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you worry too much?” she said through a yawn.
Matt reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Never,” he growled.
“Right. Well, you do,” she said and glanced back at the file she’d been reading until she fell asleep. “Did you see this?” She handed it over for him to peruse and dug through another stack.
“These are names of nightclubs in the city,” Matt said quietly. “I didn’t even realize he was sole owner of some of the ones I worked for.”
“If he’s smuggling drugs into the kingdom, maybe one of the clubs is where he’s… he’s stashing them,” she said as another yawn overtook her. Her arms stretched up over her head, and she lay back against the couch. A moment later, her eyes slid closed again.
The couch shifted, and she was in Matt’s arms, curled against his chest as he carried her into the bedroom. Daphne opened her eyes long enough to see the worried frown on his face as he pulled back the covers on her bed and laid her down.
“I should ask if you ate anything today,” he muttered.
“I had coffee and that scone this morning,” she answered, snuggling into the pillows. “That’s more than enough.”
“Not even close, love.”
He turned to leave, but Daphne reached out and captured his hand. “You could just say it.”
“Say what?” he asked, those damn dark eyes of his begging her to drop it, but she was never good at letting things go.
“You can admit it, Matt. I’m not scared.”
He squeezed her hand in reply and sat down on the edge of bed. “Told you before, I am. Scared as hell that this is all a damn dream and I’ll wake up to find you gone from my life, my last bit of sanity with you.”
Daphne slid over in the bed, and after he’d kicked off his shoes and set aside his holster, he lay down beside her. They faced each other, and Daphne caught another rare glimpse of the man behind the mask, struggling not to slip into that darkness dragging him down constantly.
“Alright, I lied,” she admitted. “I’m terrified, Matt. I’m terrified that I’ve finally found someone who fits me and I’m going to lose him because of some stupid, archaic law.”
Angry tears stung her eyes, slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them. Matt’s thumb brushed them away gently, and his arms pulled her into the warmth of his body, his chin resting on her head as he whispered he was there. It was a softer side of Matt she hadn’t seen yet, and she soaked in every bit of it.
“I’ll fight for you any way I can,” he swore fiercely. “Do you hear me, Daphne Eridian? Princess or not, you’re mine, and I’ll die before I lose you.”’
She prayed, as he held her through the night, it would not come to that.
Chapter 11
The next morning, Daphne awoke naked beneath the sheets with the memory of their middle of the night tryst fresh in her mind. He’d risen to leave before morning, but she woke up, too, and one kiss led to another until he was buried inside her, making slow, sweet love to her, showing her what he felt but might never say out loud.
Marie called out from the other room. Daphne sighed and said she was going to shower before breakfast.
“Very good, my lady, and your parents will be arriving in an hour,” Marie called back.
Daphne groaned and flopped back onto the bed. “Damn it. Maybe I should start my morning with mimosas from now on,” she grumbled to herself and took an out-of-the-ordinary long shower.
Sadly, it didn’t take her more than an hour to get ready and eat breakfast. Sooner than she wished, she was on her way to meet with her parents. Her only saving grace was that Matt actually smiled at her when he opened the door to collect her. She’d been so stunned by the sight and the way it transformed his face, she stumbled over her heels and tripped right into him. Behind her, Marie chuckled. They walked quickly to her father’s study, where Matt announced her.
Calix called out brusquely for her to enter, and Daphne braced herself. She’d spent her time in the shower contemplating telling her parents everything she had learned about Dion, but the disappointed gleam in her dad’s eyes made her bite her tongue in anger.
“Morning, Father, Mother,” she said to her parents.
Alexandria’s hand rested on Calix’ shoulder as she sat behind his wooden desk. “Daphne. I trust you have had time to think over your actions the last time we spoke?”
“Yes, Mother, and I would like to… to apologize,” she forced out, “to both of you.”
“Accepted,” Calix said quickly. “Now, we do not have much time before we must plan the ball for your betrothal, so come here, daughter.”
Daphne flinched at his harsh tone but did as he said. Stacked on the desk were files, and when he motioned for her to open one, she had to bite back another angry retort. “These are the young men you wish me to choose from?”
“Yes,” Alexandria said. “I hear we have some cleaning up to do. You appear to have upset your aunt and cousin again, along with several key leaders of parliament.”
“I’m sorry for whatever distress I’ve caused you both,” she replied in a monotonous tone, her head down so they wouldn’t see her roll her eyes.
<
br /> “You should be. All the work we’ve put in is about to go to waste,” the queen snapped.
Daphne picked up the files to distract herself from snapping at her mom that they had done nothing. It was all Daphne’s work. “Well, at least there are pictures.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Father, nothing,” she said more clearly.
“Good, then you are excused. We will expect your choices presented to us in a week,” he told her before waving at the door, dismissing her.
Daphne’s heart sank as she backed for the door and knocked for it to be opened. She couldn’t even meet Matt’s eyes when she passed him, but instead of going to her room, she turned right and took one of the doors leading out to the private royal gardens. Her mind racing with what was in her hands, she walked on, through the arched hedge entrance and deeper into the gardens where no one could see them.
When she reached the center and the fountain there along with several marble columns surrounding it, Daphne dropped the files and sat on the edge of it.
“What are those for?” Matt asked after telling the others he had the princess safe in the garden and she wished to be alone and removing his com from his ear.
“Those are my choices for a future husband,” she spat out, glaring at the files.
Matt bent to pick them up and flipped through them, his face blank. “Quite a few interesting men in here. All quite rich from the look of it. And handsome.”
“None of them are you,” she argued. “I have a week to choose which ones I want to date.”
“And they’re all coming here?”
She frowned, leaning forward on the edge of the fountain. “Yes, and they’ll be here soon after, staying until I pick one. Why?”
Matt tossed the files aside. “You can’t pick one.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she said with an exasperated laugh. She’d barely held herself together while her parents told her what she had to do, but now that she was away from them and alone with Matt, her control on her emotions vanished.