The Bodyguard's Prince (The Royal Wedding Book 1) Page 10

  There’d been more kissing, and so much touching Toni thought she might explode. Soapy hands and warm water made for some of the most erotic sensations she’d ever experienced.

  Oh my God, but the man could kiss. And it was amazing how close he could bring her to orgasm, just with his hands. By the time both of them were clean, Toni was more than ready to experience the rest of him.

  As he was drying her off—taking far too long to get into the bedroom, as far as she was concerned—Alek stopped and met her eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Toni?” he asked, his voice harsh with need.

  Hell yes! But she just smiled and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more okay with anything, Alek.”

  His palm came up to cup her cheek, and his expression turned serious. “I don’t want you to feel coerced into this. I want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons.”

  Toni rolled her eyes a little and pressed her naked, damp body against his. “I think this is a good enough reason, Your Highness,” she whispered.

  His hold on her butt tightened, but his fingers continued to caress her cheek and temple. “You’ve showed me so much, Toni. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman the way I want you, but I’m not in charge here. This is totally up to you.”

  “So what you’re saying is,” she panted against his skin, “I get to be on top?”

  He was grinning when he lowered his mouth to hers. Three gentle kisses on her lips—kisses that only inflamed and teased her senses—and he pulled back long enough to say, “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  She loved that he was concerned enough about her feelings—about her consent, and her past negative experiences—that he was offering her this. And frankly, the idea of riding Alek made her even hotter. She thrust herself up on her toes long enough to kiss him quickly, then grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom.

  Later, they napped, wrapped up in each other’s arms in the most delicious few hours of relaxation Toni had ever experienced. In the back of her mind, she wondered why she wasn’t more frantic about being kidnapped and locked up, but couldn’t deny this was the best vacation she’d ever had.

  Who would’ve thought it was all because of her employer? Prince Alek had been arrogant and uptight when she’d met him, but now that she knew him better, she could admire his intense loyalty and his devotion to his people and their traditions.

  If only she could get him to rethink his position on royalty marrying for love…

  Not for me or anything! she was quick to justify to herself. For his mother’s sake…

  They spent the rest of that day watching more superhero movies and laughing and joking and sharing stories. She fell more in love with him each time he told her about his childhood or asked her opinion on something. They were perfectly paired and meshed on so many issues—everything from child rearing to food preferences to religion—and being with him made her heart sing.

  Too bad they were from such different positions they could never have a future together.

  That night they explored one another’s bodies again, until they fell into a satisfied sleep. But by the following morning—the third day since they’d been removed from his study—something had changed. Oh, not between the two of them; she loved the way he always seemed to be touching her, a pat here, a hand-holding there, occasionally a little teasing swat on her butt. It made her feel loved in the same way being held by him did. She’d spent so long being the protector that now it was nice to be protected.

  But they were both antsier than they’d been yesterday. Apparently the charm of their mandatory vacation had worn off, and Toni caught him checking the locks and the window again. Not that she could blame him; she’d done the exact same thing when he’d gone to take a shower that morning.

  Yeah, they were both done with being locked up in here.

  After breakfast, Toni found herself doing more sit-ups, just to burn off some of her energy. Of course, she could’ve invited Alek back to bedroom again, but the ball of nervous energy in the pit of her stomach told her that might not be what she needed at that moment. He joined her, until they were both breathing heavily.

  After a while, he went for some water, and offered her a hand up. As he pulled, he asked, “Wanna dance?”

  It wasn’t said with the same comical leer he’d used yesterday when he’d suggested “grappling,” so Toni wasn’t sure what he meant. Her expression must’ve said as much, because he clarified.

  “Spar, I mean.” He shrugged sheepishly and looked towards the remains of their fried egg sandwiches. “I was just thinking about how you called it ‘a different kind of dance’ the last time we did it.”

  She hummed, an appreciative smile tugging at her lips. “So you don’t want to actually dance with me?”

  To her surprise, he placed his water on the side table, and hurried to pull her into his arms. His left hand was high on her back, and his right hand took her left and held it in the classic closed position.

  He stared down at her, and she could tell he was fighting an arrogant smile. Oh, he thought she would be as out of her depth here as he’d been when she’d begun to spar with him?

  Think again, Highness.

  She quirked an eyebrow at him, then lifted an imaginary train in her right hand, her arm and wrist held in the perfect angle. Sure, she was wearing his PJ pants and a tank top, but the muscle memory of all those lessons was still there. Lowering her lashes to show her partner she was ready, she lifted her chin and loosened her muscles.

  And Alek swept her into a waltz.

  It was the first time she’d danced with a man since she’d been a teenager—ballroom dancing hadn’t been part of her life over the last decade—but the moves came easily. He swept her around the room, careful not to bump into anything, counting the beats under his breath for both of them since there wasn’t any music.

  The small multipurpose room was cramped enough that they didn’t get more than a few turns around before he had to pull her to a stop. They stood in one another’s arms for a long moment, holding their poses.

  Finally, without loosening his hold on her, Alek whispered, “Where did you learn to dance like that, Toni?

  She grinned, pleased to have impressed him. “You’re looking at half of the two-time Idaho State Dancing Competition ballroom champion duo.”

  He looked a little dumbstruck, but finally let her go and stepped back slightly. “Two-time?”

  “My brother needed a partner for team roping, so I agreed, as long as he partnered with me in ballroom dancing.”

  “You were a competitive dancer?” His tone made it clear he was still shocked.

  She shrugged. “I did it all—Junior Cotillion, official debut, dance lessons for years—but it didn’t stick. When Mom saw how well it worked—by which I mean it didn’t, I joined the Army as soon as I could—she didn’t make my younger sister go through it.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, still looking shocked. “You mean to tell me you could’ve been in my arms the other night, waltzing around that ballroom?”

  “Well…” She shrugged. “I guess we could try it next time, if your fiancée is fine with it.” She tamped down the surge of jealousy from that casual statement. He was a prince, engaged to an Earl’s daughter, and that was his future. Never mind if he’d never touched Marcia the way he’d touched Toni all night… “I suppose it would be easier to protect you from down there, up close.”

  A bark of laughter burst out of him, and he managed to look exasperated and horny all at once as he pulled her into his arms again. “I wouldn’t want you in my arms as my bodyguard, Toni. I’d want you there as my woman. And who cares what Marcia thinks—I would’ve had a hell of a lot more fun dancing with you.”

  His woman.

  That casual comment had rocked Toni to her core, and she found herself sagging against him, glad for his support when he pulled her flush against his chest and tucked her head under his chin. His woma
n.

  Wait, what had he said about Marcia? She mentally shook herself, trying to keep from dwelling on that “his” comment. He’d said he hadn’t cared what Marcia thought…

  She cleared her throat. “So…Marcia?” she asked hoarsely, glad she didn’t have to look him in the eyes when she asked whatever she wasn’t able to say.

  Alek seemed to understand, and shrugged. “You were right. I don’t love her, and it’d be foolish to tie my entire future to her, just because she would look good in paintings. My country deserves a stronger woman for their future queen.”

  Before she could respond to that, before his words could do more than cause her heart to leap happily, he followed up with:

  “And so do I.”

  It wasn’t anything final, it wasn’t anything absolute, but it was more than Toni—more than Queen Viktoria!—had hoped for. Alek was finally willing to admit a strong marriage would make for a stronger nation, and maybe one day he’d admit love was important too.

  “You know,” he murmured against the top of her head, “I owe you a lot for helping me see that.”

  She snorted. He’d been pig-headed and arrogant, but he didn’t owe her.

  When he began to sway, she wrapped her arms around his middle and swayed with him, smiling against his chest.

  “You taught me how to dance, Toni,” he whispered.

  When she stiffened, not understanding what he meant, he just tightened his hold and kept swaying. “Months ago, you began to spar with me, and as you said, that was your own kind of dance. You made sure I knew your type of dance. And today, I learned that you know my type of dance, too.” His hand found her butt, and cupped it intimately. “And we’ve both proved apt learners at our own special kind of dance, huh?”

  She snorted again, only this time it was half-agreement, half-amusement. Dance, indeed.

  “I think what I’m trying to say is…”

  He trailed off, and Toni found herself holding her breath. What? What was he thinking right now? Because surely, no matter how much she’d hoped for it, he didn’t think having sex with a woman—his bodyguard—meant he had to marry her? Okay, granted, great sex, but still. Toni Dryden was Prince Alek’s bodyguard, and that’s all she could ever be.

  Well, maybe bodyguard-with-benefits…

  Alek took a deep breath, and Toni found herself holding hers, half-dreading whatever he was about to say.

  That’s when they both heard the scraping of a key in the lock on the apartment’s front door, and knew they were about to be rescued…or worse.

  What absolutely shitty timing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Alek groaned quietly. Could their timing be any worse? Just when he had Toni in his arms, and was trying to figure out how he felt about her—after that amazing time they’d had in the bedroom last night—the kidnappers decided to return?

  Oh well, business before pleasure.

  Remembering what happened last time, Alek was quick to turn and place himself between the door and Toni, just as the final lock snicked open. She pushed at him, probably trying to put herself in front, but he stood firm.

  Bodyguard or not, he wasn’t going to let her get hurt again, not for him.

  Baldy entered first, his gun already drawn and pointed at them. When Bruiser followed, those massive arms crossed in front of him, Alek heard Toni suck in a pained breath behind him. She must have been remembering what damage those arms did to her, and how close she’d come to dying.

  He was determined to protect her better this time. Alek crossed his own arms in front of his chest—thanks to months of training with her, he knew his own biceps and forearms were impressive—and planted his feet in a clear message: You’ll have to get through me first.

  Both men watched him warily, but stepped out of the way to allow a third to enter. He hadn’t been one of the four who’d ambushed Alek and Toni in his study. No, this must be “the boss” they’d referred to. He wasn’t quite as large as Bruiser, but he filled out that suit well enough, and he looked like he’d enjoyed one too many meals. There was a large, unlit cigar dangling out of the corner of his mouth, but he was chewing on it rather than smoking it. The gold rings on his fingers and the ostentatious wrist-watch—and was that a diamond tie pin? What was this, the nineties?—made it obvious he was wealthy, and the way he carried himself screamed that he was used to getting his way.

  So what does he want with us? Alek swallowed, determined not to show fear. This was just like facing a labor cartel or negotiating for trade rights with shipping companies. Two opposing parties, not quite sure what the other’s goals are, determined to get the best out of the situation.

  Yeah, I can do this. I have done this. I’m good at it—it’s what I’m known for.

  Of course, in those negotiations, the opposing party didn’t usually have a gun trained on him.

  Dammit, why’d I have to go and think that?

  “Your Highness.” The man spoke for the first time, his accent clipped and difficult to place. He nodded his head slightly, but gave the title with a sneer, as if the deference was sarcastic. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay.”

  Actually, Alek had enjoyed most of his time stuck here in the apartment, but had no intention of telling this gangster that. Instead, he frowned imperiously and glared down his nose at the newcomers. They might have the weapons, but he had the blood of forty generations of powerful monarchs running through his veins.

  Let’s hope it stays there.

  When Alek didn’t answer, the man stepped into the room fully, muttering something to someone out in the hallway as he closed the door. He turned to them once more and stuck one be-ringed hand in his pocket, studying them as if waiting for an answer.

  When he didn’t get one, that cigar twitched as if in irritation. “Come on now, Prince Alek.” The man sneered. “No words of thanks? After all the effort we went through to ensure your comfort during your stay?” He spread his palm outward, as if ready to accept accolades, but his tone of voice made it clear he wasn't expecting any. “Of course, that stay went on a little longer than we had planned...” He sent a quick glare towards Baldy, who looked a little chagrined. “Since there was more than just you doing the staying. We had to have a little powwow and figure out how to handle the hiccup of having two ‘guests.’ Of course, I have to say that having an extra person with you—especially one with as attractive as her—probably wasn’t too much of a hardship, eh, Highness?”

  The leer he sent towards Toni—specifically her breasts—negated any of the politeness in his words. Alek knew what the man was implying, and refused to react, no matter how much his skin crawled to know someone was ogling Toni that way. Instead, he forced himself to consider the man’s words. He’d implied that Toni’s presence was the reason he—the boss—hadn’t confronted Alek sooner. Why? Why would one extra person add complications to their plans? Or was it Toni herself?

  Of course Alek had known the only reason Toni had come along was because he'd bargained for her safety, and the fact the kidnappers thought her nothing more than his lover. Of course, thanks to their little stay here—wherever “here” was—that fiction had become fact.

  When the man didn't seem inclined to offer any further useful tidbits, Alek decided to ask the most pressing question running through his head.

  “Who are you?”

  “You mean you don't recognize me? I'm crushed, Your Highness.” The man placed his palm against his chest. “Just crushed you wouldn't recognize Boris Rastorov.”

  Behind Alek, Toni sucked in a breath. The man's name hadn’t meant anything to Alek, but he had to admit Toni's knowledge of dangerous criminals was probably more up-to-date than his own. He cocked his chin just slightly to one side, inviting her to enlighten him.

  Under her breath, so low it was possible the men near the door hadn't even heard her, Toni murmured, “Russian mafia out of New York.”

  Hmmm. It explained the man's difficult-to-place accent.

  Still, Alek coul
d afford to play the imperious prince. “Oh, should I have heard of you? I'm sorry, I don't keep up-to-date on the Aegirian underworld. I will be sure to pass your name on to the director of national security.”

  “Oh,” Rastorov said with a laugh, “I'd expect nothing less from a man so obsessed with his nation’s wellbeing. You can tell them anything you want; I'll be leaving this suffocating little island as soon as our business is concluded.”

  Whatever his plans, Rastorov obviously felt confident in his escape route. After Alek’s report, all the commercial airlines and yacht departures would be monitored. Rastorov must have a different scheme in mind.

  “And your...goons?” Alek nodded towards Baldy and Bruiser, remembering how yesterday Toni had described the nicknames she’d given the team of kidnappers.

  “Oh, they'll be coming with me. Good help is hard to find, you know.” Rastorov jerked his thumb at the door to the apartment. “One of my men is standing watch outside, and the other is securing our passage out of here as we speak.” He smirked. “You give us what we want, Your Highness, and you don't ever have to worry about seeing us again.”

  They'd probably hurry back to New York, either directly or via another city in Europe. Alek made a mental note to have the American ambassador contact someone at his homeland security agency. Perhaps with the descriptions Alek and Toni could provide, these men could be identified and intercepted as they returned.

  Of course...that was assuming they’d follow through with their promise to leave. Who knew what would happen when Alek denied them what they wanted? Because no matter what they wanted, he knew it was his duty to deny them. Men like this did not have Aegiria’s best interest at heart.

  Alek took a deep breath, his arms still crossed in front of his chest, and felt at a disadvantage in his t-shirt and jogging shorts. It was easier to go into negotiations wearing an Armani suit, after all. Still… “And what is it you want from me, Mr. Rastorov?”

  The gangster studied him for a long while, before turning to Baldy. “Gimme your gun.”

  The bald man looked surprised. “What?”