The Bodyguard's Prince (The Royal Wedding Book 1) Page 4

  He grunted, and she imagined she could hear a smile in the noise. For a few more minutes, the only sound was their breathing and the ticking of his old-fashioned desk clock.

  “Where’d you learn to do this?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t recall the private security firm I hired you through touting massage as part of their employees’ talents.”

  She smiled and moved her fingers back up to his scalp. “It’s not something I put in my application.”

  “You learned in the Army, then?”

  This time she chuckled. “Nope, I learned back home, on the ranch.”

  “Oh, yes,” he murmured. “You’re a cowgirl.”

  “More or less.” This time she skimmed her fingertips across his forehead and brows, tilting his head back so she could reach. “Starting when I was little, I was in charge of running the stables. I don’t like horses too much, but I could organize the shit out of most things, and I kept those things running like clockwork. But Dad and Eric used to get all sore from being in the saddle all day, so I learned which muscles knotted the most, and how to solve that. Came in handy later, after training.”

  “When you beat up some poor sap?”

  She grinned slightly. “Had to get beat up a lot myself, first. I took kickboxing and taekwondo, then learned a few other styles from some of the guys I was deployed with.” Mainly elements of jiu jitsu and krav maga, but she’d never trained formally.

  “And did you organize the shit out of them, too?”

  “Yep. I was a Transportation Logistics Officer. One thing I’m good at is looking at the big picture, anticipating what we need to reach the end goal, and figuring out how to get there with the tools and resources we have already.”

  His head was still cocked forward, so she couldn’t see his expression when he murmured, “That’s not the only thing you’re good at.”

  And his praise made a bubble of lightness swell inside her chest, more so than any commendation had before. Standing there with his gorgeous shoulders under her hands, feeling the warmth of him…it wasn’t too hard to see why.

  Wow. Alek had never had a headache disappear so quickly before. He told himself it was just because Toni knew exactly where to press and massage to make the tension seep out of his muscles…but suspected it might’ve been something more.

  Could he imagine Marcia doing something like this for him? Being concerned enough—not just for his safety, but his well-being—to step up to touch him like this? She’d never given him any hint she disliked his touch, but after a hard day butting heads against council members and arguing with Excel spreadsheets, would she rub his temples…or would she send him to a massage therapist, which was probably more proper?

  And did he care it wasn’t proper?

  He groaned again under his breath, and when her fingers sped up, let her think it was because he was enjoying her ministrations. When had he started comparing Marcia to his bodyguard? And why? Toni was nice, sure, and he was glad to have her on his side…but she worked for him. She was just like Rogers or Karonov or Hawkins.

  Or at least, she had been, right up until that moment during last week’s sparring session when he’d pinned her to the floor, and felt her body pressed against his. Since then, his dick wouldn’t let him see her as anything other than a woman. A smart, capable, kick-ass woman, sure, but a woman with all of her curves and smiles and curves.

  He groaned again.

  “I’m not hurting you, am I?” The pressure on the back of his skull decreased suddenly.

  “No! No, sorry.” He leaned forward. Probably best to put some distance between them anyhow. “Thanks.” Grabbing his drink in one hand, he pushed hers with the other. “Relax.”

  She made a little sound which might’ve been a laugh—was it because he was acting like an idiot?—and reached for the lowball tumbler of bourbon. When she crossed to prop her hip against one of the room’s many bookcases, he couldn’t decide if he was relieved she’d moved away, or disappointed.

  He searched for something to say, to distract both of them. “So you grew up a cowgirl, making sure your family’s ranch ran well, then you went into the logistics branch of the Army?”

  “Yep.” She saluted him with her drink.

  When had they gotten so informal with one another? “Why not stay on the ranch, if you were good at it?”

  She shrugged, lowering the bourbon from her lips. “I guess I wanted to see the world. My brother Eric—he’s two months older than me, but he was adopted later, so I grew up kinda as the big sister—says I was bitten by the travel bug as a kid. Comes from traveling internationally as an infant, he said.”

  Alek’s brows rose, and he found himself relaxing as he listened to her story. “Why were you traveling so young?”

  “All three of us were adopted. Eric from Guatemala, Lin from China, and I was brought home from Russia as a teensy baby.”

  “Hey, welcome back,” Alek joked, and Toni chuckled. Russia was one of their neighbors, although not so close as Norway. Now that he knew her secret, it made sense. She had the same blonde hair of many of the locals—although she kept it cropped almost as short as his—and her eyes were the color of the Baltic on a sunny day.

  She took another sip of the drink, and hummed in appreciation. “This is the good stuff. Thanks for sharing.”

  Her tongue flicked out to catch an errant drop of amber liquor, and Alek felt himself tense at the sight, imagining all sorts of things she could do with that tongue.

  “Any time,” he managed to croak out.

  When she shrugged, she looked like she didn’t have a care in the world. She wore her all-black uniform like she was born in it, and seemed more comfortable in her own skin than anyone he’d ever met. Now that he was thinking of her as a woman, rather than just “Dryden,” he found himself comparing her to Marcia again. Would his future wife hang out with him in his office, drinking his good liquor and making jokes?

  Stop it. Dryden is your bodyguard, nothing more.

  But since he had no interest in going back to the Excel spreadsheets, he tried to come up with something safe to talk about. “So you grew up an American cowgirl, and went into the Army. After discharge, you joined a security firm and were posted here, presumably because you were smart enough to fall in love with Aegiria and the Baltic.” Nothing to do with me. “Where did the martial arts come in? Is that a popular pastime for cowgirls in the American west?”

  One side of her lips tugged up, but it wasn’t really a grin. More wry than humorous. “Nah, we’re too busy taking care of cattle. I got into it after I joined the Army, and discovered I was good at it.”

  He quirked a brow in agreement. “You’re better than just ‘good’ at it. What made you start?” The brandy was sweet on his tongue as he sipped, waiting for her response.

  Toni’s gaze had dropped to her own glass. Was the liquor that interesting, or did she just not want to look at him?

  “You know the rate of sexual assault is really high in the armed forces, right? They don’t like to publicize it, and women don’t always report it, but it’s happening.”

  Holy shit. Alek’s heart seemed to seize, but he forced himself to ask the question. “Did you—” Were you just arming yourself? Or— “Did it happen—?”

  After a long moment, during which he could swear he could feel this own heartbeat in his temple, Toni looked up and met his eyes, just briefly. Then her gaze dropped to his chest, and she nodded, and shrugged nonchalantly.

  His grip tightened on his glass, and he was halfway out of his chair before he realized he didn’t have any clue what he was going to do when he reached her. Her blue eyes flicked to his once more, and he forced himself back down into the leather of his chair.

  “Holy shit, Toni,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” It seemed so ineffective, but it was all he could offer.

  She shrugged again, and took a deep breath. “It was a long time ago.”

  When he scoffed, she met his eyes squarely.

  �
��No, seriously.” Another deep breath, and the corner of her lips quirked up once more, wryly. “It was a long time ago. I went to counseling, I faced it, I got over it. It used to really bother me, to affect how I acted. But I decided I wasn’t going to let it mess with me, haunt me.” She lifted the bourbon to her lips. “It’s not who I am, not anymore.”

  There didn’t seem to be a way to respond. What had happened to her was terrible, but it sounded like she’d handled it with her usual kick-ass attitude. What could he say? I’m sorry you went through that? Hell yes, he was sorry. But she obviously didn’t want to dwell on it, and he wasn’t her friend or confidant—he was her boss. As much as he wanted to offer her some comfort, it wasn’t his place to do so…and it sounded like he was a few years too late.

  So instead, he watched her sip her bourbon, and appreciated that she’d let him catch this glimpse of her past. “So you took up mixed martial arts, to make sure you could beat anyone’s ass.”

  This time her grin was more familiar. “You know it, Highness.”

  “Alek,” he corrected.

  She lifted the bourbon in a salute. “Alek.”

  Suddenly, her grin dropped in tandem with her glass—she placed it hurriedly on the bookshelf beside her—and she tilted her chin towards the door to his sitting room. It was another few seconds at least before he heard what she must’ve: footsteps. Her hand was already reaching for the weapon she wore holstered at her hip when the knock came, and he saw her relax.

  Bad guys don’t knock, huh?

  “It’s Hawkins. Must be your mother,” she said softly as she shifted her weight and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  Good to know. “Come in,” he called.

  When the queen stepped into his study, Alek came to his feet out of respect. She waved to hold him in place—this must not be an official visit—and crossed to his desk. Her bodyguard, Hawkins, stepped inside the door and scanned the room in that same way Toni always did.

  The two of them nodded to one another, and the movement drew Mother’s attention to Toni. Alek watched the older woman’s eyes fall on the half-hidden glass of liquor on the shelf, but rather than disapproving, her lips curled upwards slightly.

  What is she up to?

  Mother was dressed for a casual dinner, and it was a little odd to see her out of her mourning colors. But he supposed now that she was dating an American, she felt she could be a little less formal.

  “What can I do for you, Mother?”

  If he hadn’t been watching her, he would’ve missed the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. Was she nervous?

  “I plan on announcing my engagement to the Council the next time we meet—the week after next.”

  Well, that was sudden. The upper staff at the palace was already buzzing with the knowledge, but announcing to the Council would make it official. All that would remain after that would be to announce it to the public, and Alek winced when he considered that disaster.

  “Are you sure you don’t need to take a little longer to think about this?” Say, three years?

  Mother’s grey eyes hardened and she met his glare. “William and I are in love. I wish to marry him, and since I’m ruling this country, there is absolutely no one to tell me I cannot.” She cocked an imperious brow at him. “Unless my eldest child—the son I’ve raised to rule after me—thinks he can somehow forbid it?”

  Alek’s hands clenched into fists where they rested on the desk. “If you are determined to go through with this ridiculous farce of a marriage, then nothing I can say will stop it. You know why I think it’s a bad idea.”

  “And I think you’re not giving our people enough credit. They’re not stuck in the last century in regards to relationships and marriage choices…the way you somehow are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Mother was as poised and elegant as always when she lifted her chin. “Your engagement to Marcia is a lovely affair, and was made for entirely the wrong reasons.”

  His hand slashed through the air—he didn’t want to talk about Marcia right now. “My correct and proper engagement isn’t what you came to discuss.”

  “No, it’s not.” She took a breath. “The twins’ birthday celebration is on Friday, and you know that’s the unofficial start to summer in the kingdom.”

  It was practically a national holiday: #5 used it as an excuse to party all day while Johann usually escaped the crowds as soon as possible. All of the royal family appeared in public together, and their people adored it.

  She didn’t wait for his nod, before continuing: “That’s the only reason I haven’t officially publicized our engagement. I will wait until the event is past, and I will announce it to the Council, and ask them to begin planning a public event to share the news with our people and the world. William and I will be married by the end of summer.”

  Silently, Alek cursed. How was he going to make up for this debacle, if Mother was determined to make the family look like fools? Maybe he could move the date of his own—proper—wedding up, so the kingdom would focus on that, rather than the queen’s farce?

  “Thank you for telling me your plans,” he said stiffly.

  Mother’s eyes softened slightly. “That’s not why I came here, Alek. I want—I need your support in this. When I go before the Council, will you stand beside me? Will you support my decision?”

  So she wasn’t as sure of the outcome as she claimed, huh? She knew others—including most of the Ministers—would agree with Alek that this marriage would be a disaster. Dr. Hayes was a bumbling, awkward, ill-mannered fool who couldn’t last through an official state affair without making the entire country look bad…and Mother was the queen.

  The Ministers might very well laugh her out of the Council, if she stood alone. Nonetheless…

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” he finally said stiffly. “I cannot stand with you on this.”

  She nodded once, her expression carefully blank, and glanced at Toni. Alek didn’t see what passed between the two women, if anything, but the queen then turned to sweep out of the room, Hawkins following wordlessly. Alek told himself it was for the best, that a marriage to Dr. Hayes might be what Mother wanted, but it wasn’t what Queen Viktoria could afford. It wasn’t what was best for the country, and it was up to him to uphold Aegiria’s traditions.

  So how come his stomach felt like he’d swallowed a big empty ball? He’d disappointed his mother, he knew, but it was for the best.

  And maybe he would’ve believed that, if he hadn’t looked up to catch Toni’s eyes then.

  The disappointment in them hurt more than anything his mother could’ve said. He’d disappointed Toni, and how come that mattered?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “You look fabulous tonight, Antoinette.”

  The comment startled Toni out of the curtsey she was offering Queen Viktoria, and she stumbled as she tried to right herself in these stupid formal slippers. She’d much rather be wearing her usual black uniform, but someone had decided the queen’s and crown princes’ bodyguards would blend in better at the formal event if they were dressed formally too.

  That was well and good for Maarten, who stood behind the queen at a respectful distance, but Toni felt like a china doll, no matter how simple her black ball gown was.

  “Th—thank you, Your Majesty.” Toni cleared her throat, still out of sorts from hearing her full name from someone besides her mother. “But I feel out of place.”

  The queen’s smile wasn’t frosty or knowing, but instead made Toni feel like a member of the family. She’d heard Viktoria was known for her ability to put people at ease, as well as being a strong leader, and Toni could understand that.

  “Would you like to know a secret, my dear?” The queen leaned towards Toni slightly, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Most of us feel out of place at some time or other. You don't look it, which means no one else can tell. And that's the important thing, when it comes to this life.”

  Toni couldn't hel
p but think of her old life, where someone most definitely could tell if another was out of place. Still, she smiled and nodded along with the queen. “That’s good advice, Your Majesty.”

  The older woman waved away the formality, and joined Toni at the balcony, where she was staring down at the dance floor, keeping an eye on Alek. Maarten moved up on the queen’s other side to make sure she was never out of reach.

  Toni’s grip tightened on the banister, and she was very aware how visible the queen was. With her here, and the prince down there…Toni felt pulled in two directions, not sure who should have her primary focus.

  Damn. I wish I had my gun. But while Maarten—and Rogers and Karanov and the others who were spread around the ballroom—probably had on two shoulder holsters, Toni hadn’t even been able to carry a purse with this stupid ensemble. The dress was too damn form-fitting for even a concealed thigh holster.

  The queen, on the other hand…Viktoria didn’t need to worry about anything. She was dressed elegantly in a tasteful off-the-shoulder gown of deep purple, a thick braided rope necklace set with amethyst and diamonds around her neck. Toni knew the queen preferred purple, and could see why. The rich color was not only royal, but perfectly complimented Viktoria’s stormy gray eyes.

  The older woman's grey hair was carefully coiffed, set with glittery pins and the slightly less formal of her two state crowns. Toni had heard the Queen's hair had started going grey at a young age, and she'd startled everyone—and started a new fashion trend—by having her hairdresser dye it completely silver. She was a striking woman, and had passed her good looks down to her sons.

  The queen looked like she was born to move around a ballroom like this. Toni…felt like an imposter. Oh, there’d been a time when she’d felt perfectly at ease, wearing a gown and heels and twirling around a ballroom like this…but that was a long time ago.

  Quit your whining, Dryden. Do your job.