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

  “After all the years she’s spent ingraining in me the virtues of—of—!” He cut himself off with a growl and turned to the large window behind his desk, staring out at the distant bay. “We are the rulers of Aegiria! We are the latest scions of Europe’s longest-lasting monarchy! We’ve held rule for a thousand years, even when elections and socialism came to our neighbors, and we did it by being good at our jobs! Our people love us, and trust us to not embarrass them.” Spitting out the last word, he ran his hand through his dark hair in frustration. “Our public image means everything, and she’s just going to throw it away!”

  Toni’s lips quirked. She’d been working for Alek for close to a year now, and often had solo bodyguarding duty, because the tiny island nation of Aegiria was a relatively peaceful place. Often, when Alek left the palace, two bodyguards attended him, and he was always the epitome of restraint and control. After hours, or during meals, she would compare her experience with the men on his team of bodyguards, and they all agreed: Crown Prince Alek was quiet, restrained and controlled in all settings.

  Which means he only ever lost his cool and started ranting like this when she was on duty.

  Lucky her.

  Still, it wasn’t a bad gig. There was something kinda flattering about the fact he was comfortable enough with her to let go like this, to let her see his real feelings. And while she tried not to feel flattered by anything he did towards her, knowing this was just an employer/bodyguard relationship, she couldn’t help but smile when she saw this side of him. This side that so few others had seen.

  And she had to admit: he was gorgeous any way she’d seen him. His fiancée—or rather, the woman he’d suggested marriage to like it was a business arrangement, even though nothing formal had been announced—was one lucky woman. With that dark hair and beard, both close-cropped and meticulous, and those startling grey eyes the princes had inherited from their mother, Alek sure was nice to look at. Thanks to the sparring regimen she’d gotten him on last winter, his shoulders knew exactly how to fill out those tailored suits he always wore, and she knew for a fact his waist tapered down to a firm, trim butt she didn’t mind staring at…

  Focus, Dryden. You’re on the clock.

  Not that she had much to worry about; they were inside the prince’s office, deep inside the palace. He was safe here, but that didn’t mean she could daydream about his butt.

  While she’d been distracted thinking about his—about her employer’s attributes, he’d gone back to pacing, muttering under his breath. She’d caught another few references to “her”—which had to mean the queen, who else?—something about tradition, “love” spat out with an alarming vehemence, and a particularly angry “what will our people think?”

  Unfortunately, she still didn’t know what had upset him so much.

  “Well?” With a suddenness which startled her, Alek turned to her. “Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to offer your opinion, which you usually do?”

  Toni’s lip-quirk turned into a full smile. She’d never kept her opinion to herself—years of managing her parents’ cattle ranch, then two tours as a logistics officer in the US Army meant she was confident in her abilities and intelligence—and besides, he asked for it more often than not.

  “I would, Your Highness, but I don’t have a clue what’s got your panties in a twist.”

  His gorgeous grey eyes narrowed. “What did you just say?” he asked, icily.

  Crap. Her smile fell as she straightened and focused her gaze above his left shoulder. “Sir, I was pointing out that I don’t know what your current problem is, so I’m unable to offer suggestions. Your Highness.”

  “You only get lippy and use military-speak when you’re ruffled, Dryden.”

  He’d noticed that, had he? Well, she’d noticed something too. “And you only call me by my last name when I’ve been ‘Your Highnessing’ you too much.”

  Right around the time he’d started calling her “Toni,” she’d started thinking of him as “Alek” instead of “Crown Prince Aleksander Magnusson of Aegiria.” The other bodyguards all went by their last names, but she was always “Toni”…unless Alek was trying to make a point.

  He relaxed slightly. “Fair point.” His arms crossed in front of his chest, and he cocked his head at her. “You really have no idea why I’m so irritated?”

  “No, sir.” She kept her gaze above his shoulder. “Although I’m assuming it doesn’t have anything to do with your panties.”

  “I don’t wear panties,” he growled. “I’m wearing a silk-blend designer boxer brief right now.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm and snapped to his. What? How’d they end up talking about his underwear? And how come she was suddenly so warm, thinking about the way those boxer briefs must be hugging his toned muscles? His thick thighs…his hard butt…his other bits…

  Oh dear God, I’m thinking about my employer’s other bits. Was that any worse than thinking about his butt? Toni tried to calm her frantic heartbeat.

  It wasn’t until she saw the flash of humor in Alek’s eyes that she realized he’d been messing with her. Not teasing her, because the Crown Prince would never do something as normal as that. But he’d definitely said that to get a reaction…and it had worked.

  “Yes, sir,” she managed to choke out. “Sorry, sir.”

  He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair once more. It was short enough not to be mussed by the action, but it showed how out of sorts he was. “I’m sorry too.” He turned towards the window once more and leaned forward, bracing his fists against his large oak desk. “I shouldn’t have snapped just because you weren’t paying attention to me.”

  One of her pale brows rose. Not paying attention, huh? He was blaming her for daydreaming about his butt, wasn’t he? “I was paying attention, sir. You just never said what the issue is, and I left my mind-reading device in my other uniform pants.”

  Without turning, he snorted, and Toni’s lips quirked at the sound. All too soon, though, he sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

  “She’s always taught me that our image is everything, Toni. That the only way our family has maintained power for so long in a changing world is by assuring our people we’re worthy of it.”

  “This is the queen you’re talking about?”

  Surprisingly, he didn’t snap. “Yes.” He sighed, still looking at the distant bay on the other side of their capitol city of Solrighavn, below the ridge where the palace sat. “Our position isn’t ensured in this world, not with how fast everything is changing. And we need to remain firm and in control if we want our people to maintain their trust in us.”

  When he paused, she figured that was an invitation to say something. And boy, did she have something to say. “Aegiria isn’t a world power, Your Highness. The only reason you’ve kept out of power struggles and maintained rule for so long is because your population and economy is small enough not to bother anyone.”

  “I know that.” Still no snapping.

  Hmm. She didn’t like how defeated he sounded.

  “My point is that your people haven’t neglected to rise up and overthrow your family in a bloody coup not because you’re doing a bang-up job of running the country— Even though you are,” she hurried to assure him when he turned back to her, one dark brow raised.

  “The people of Aegiria are simple, Alek. They don’t need great statesmen or a powerful, rigid monarch. That’s not why they love you.”

  Was it her imagination, or had his lip curled at the word “love”?

  “Oh really? Then why do they remain loyal to us?”

  She allowed herself a little eye-roll. “They love you because they know you love them. They adore your family, because for generations, your first and only priority has been their safety and happiness, regardless of the fame or power or wealth it brought you. That love and loyalty isn’t going to suddenly disappear because your mother did something you think is unworthy of the position.”

  “It’s not ju
st unworthy, it’s…it’s…”

  She stepped forward, and allowed her hands to drop from behind her back. “It’s what? What’s the queen done that’s so bad?”

  His jaw hardened, along with his eyes. “She’s getting married.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  He’d managed not to talk about it for a whole three days, before Toni brought up the coming fiasco…at the most inconvenient time.

  “So, explain to me again why your mother marrying her Science Advisor is such a bad idea?” She feinted twice, her left fist darting out on “mother” and “bad.”

  Alek narrowed his eyes, his fists held up to block, and absently grunted, “No.”

  She danced back, her own lovely blue eyes widening at his blunt denial. He liked it when he could manage to surprise her. She was always so sure of herself—especially when they sparred here in the palace’s gym—and always so ready to get the drop on him. But he wasn’t going to let that happen today.

  She must’ve recovered, because she moved back into her fighting stance—a mix between three martial arts styles and what he swore had to be some kind of ballet move.

  “Why not?” she asked as she circled him.

  He kept his shoulders loose and his knees bent as he turned to keep her in front of him. “Because you’ll use my distraction to attack.”

  When one corner of her lips tugged upwards in that lopsided grin of hers, Alek knew he’d guessed correctly. It had taken a few months of sparring with her to understand her tactics, but now that he did, he was determined not to let her have an advantage over him. It was bad enough the woman could land him on his ass four out of five times, even without distractions. Whatever the US Army had taught her, she’d expanded on it. He’d seen her drop Rogers too, and the other bodyguard weighed twice as much as her.

  “So…” She danced behind him, and he twisted to follow. “You can’t manage a conversation without being distracted?”

  She was doing it again. He merely grunted in response, and kept his eyes on her collarbone, a better indicator of when she was going to attack than watching her fists or her face.

  So when she stepped in for two jabs at his stomach and one at his face, he was ready and blocked all three…but not without stumbling backwards two steps. She followed, that lopsided grin growing.

  “One day your mother is going to turn this whole country over to you, Prince Alek.” She stalked towards him, her fists raised as if she were about to attack. “And it seems like a shame if you can’t hold a conversation and defend yourself at the same time. Seems like you should be able to handle more than one thing at once.”

  Despite knowing what she was trying to do—he had five younger brothers who’d spent their lives trying to annoy him, for godsakes!—Alek flushed, partly in embarrassment and partly in anger. She knew as well as anyone—better, since she was with him so often!—that he was perfectly capable of running this country, and to say otherwise was an insult of the greatest level.

  “How dare you—”

  Her foot lashed out, aimed for his knee, and he lunged at the last moment to catch the blow on his thigh.

  Damn. He’d fallen for her distraction again.

  And yeah, there was that triumphant twinkle in her eyes as she spun around, probably ready to launch one of her leaping kicks at his head or his shoulder. She thought she’d won already.

  Well, screw that. He was already in the correct position, so he stepped into her reach, instead of out of it, and just as she twisted in midair to throw her weight behind her kick, he grabbed her around the waist.

  They both froze.

  Part of him had known she could easily turn his momentum against him, tossing him head over heels. But a larger, and considerably more virile, part of him had wondered what it would feel like to touch her skin like this.

  Pretty damn good, apparently.

  They stood in tableau for a long moment, and Alek swore he could see her pulse pounding in her throat. She wore her usual capris and sleeveless shirt; one side had lifted when he grabbed her, and he could feel the warmth of her stomach under his palm. But instead of punching him—Alek felt like he could be knocked out by a feather right now—Toni just stared at him.

  Say something witty. Something that makes you sound like a prince, not an idiot! He wracked his brain, but couldn’t come up with anything beyond “duuuurrrrr.”

  Not quite the image he was going for. Not quite the way he wanted to impress her.

  Wait, I want to impress my bodyguard?

  Before he could fully examine that thought, Toni’s tongue flicked out over her lower lip, and Alek nearly groaned aloud. Who would’ve thought a woman who routinely kicked his butt when they sparred could look so damn sexy, dripping sweat and breathing heavily?

  “Your Highness, you gunna let me down?”

  She sounded so much like an American—a cowboy from an old movie—Alek had to smile. He knew Toni was perfectly capable of sounding formal when the situation called for it…but apparently that wasn’t when she was being held off the ground by her employer. He liked that he could fluster her as much as she flustered him.

  “Nah,” he drawled in his best John Wayne impression. “I like having you at my mercy.”

  She burst into laughter—whether from his ridiculous attempt at an American accent, or the idea she could be at his mercy, Alek didn’t know. Her laughter shook her whole body, and he was struck by the difference between her and Marcia. While he’d never held his almost-fiancée off the ground during a sparring match—she wasn’t the type to even watch a sparring match!—she’d been in his arms several times, and she didn’t feel like this.

  Marcia was beautiful and poised, the perfect prince’s wife. Toni was loud and hard and dangerous…and he was glad she was on his side.

  That’s when she punched him in the ear.

  Seriously, mid-laugh, she hauled off and punched—maybe that was a slap?—him right in the side of the face. She followed up that move by twisting out of his grip, doing some kind of weird ninja flip in midair, and kicked him in the stomach on her way down.

  Dammit, I fell for it again?

  “Ow.” That was all Alek could manage, hunched over the way he was.

  Toni, of course, landed upright out of arms’ reach, and bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. “Couldn’t let you go thinking you had me at your mercy, Alek.”

  He held up one hand while he breathed heavily through his nose, letting her know he wasn’t done…he just needed to get his breath back. The other hand drifted unconsciously to his ear, and when he glanced at his fingertips he was pleased to see he wasn’t bleeding. Not that he was surprised; he trusted her enough not to harm him permanently during practice, and a broken eardrum could cause some issues…

  “You ready to go again?” She danced back and forth a little, her hands raising to her usual “ready” position.

  He righted himself. “Yeah, yeah.” This wasn’t hard work—this wasn’t even one of her early-morning treadmill runs she’d started him on months ago—but that blow to his stomach had left him breathing heavily. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  She laughed again and launched a series of blows and kicks. For a few minutes, all of Alek’s attention was focused on blocking and returning the punches, living in the moment. He spun and lunged, careful to maintain his center of balance throughout, and soon they were both sucking in air through their noses and grinning as they tried their damnedest to hurt one another.

  Blocking one of his blows, Toni grabbed his forearm and spun away from him, her outside leg already up to deliver a vicious kick to the back of his head if he didn’t move in time. He did, ducking under her foot and punching upwards. She fell back, hopping slightly, and launched two quick kicks to his bicep and shoulder. But thanks to his blow, they lacked strength, and he was able to swat her foot away.

  They fell apart, breathing heavily, and he realized he liked the way she was grinning. Not her usual corner-of-her-lips turned up, but a f
ull-on grin. He returned it.

  “Had enough?” he asked imperiously.

  “Hell, no!” she replied in that brash American way, and threw herself forward once more.

  He managed to land a few punches this time, but she merely grunted and danced out of the way, spinning and returning his blows with kicks of her own. He couldn’t kick nearly as well as she did, but he was bigger and could absorb more. She didn’t absorb his punches; she found a way to turn the momentum and energy against him, but he’d gotten good at seeing the move she was about to make and avoiding it.

  As long as she wasn’t trying to engage him in conversation, he could hold his own in a sparring match against Toni. In fact… He stepped into one of her blows, so her fist glanced off his bicep, and wrapped one arm around her waist. With the material at the back of her shirt wrapped in one fist, he twisted and spun her out away from him.

  I can be sneaky too.

  But she was chuckling again, as she spun to a stop. “Good move, Your Highness.”

  He gave a mock bow, feeling his own chuckle trying to climb up his throat. “Thanks. I figured you were nimble on your feet, and could handle it.”

  She went up on one set of toes. “It’s all a kind of dance, really.”

  Alek had to force his eyes away from her calf, flexing to hold herself upright. Not just because it was an impressive feat of strength, but because he wasn’t supposed to be admiring his bodyguard’s legs. Or waist, or the way she laughed with all of her being, or the way that shirt molded to her sports bra…

  And good thing too, because she used his distraction to throw herself forward once more.

  As he blocked her attack and skipped away from her—careful to remain inside the taped circle on the ground to delineate the fight’s boundaries—he reflected that more than the exercise regimen she’d put him on, more than their daily sparring matches, Toni had taught him something really important: being distracted is dangerous. He could be single-minded when it came to politics or economics, but somehow she managed to distract him.