Chapter Fourteen

Sex with Kelsey was mind-blowing. It turned Elias’s world upside down.

It was also exhausting. Staying up until four a.m. to wallow in every moment possible of touching her made it tough to report for the daily security briefing at six.

Worth it, no question about that. But he’d guzzled a double espresso while shaving, had a coffee as soon as he hit the security wing, and now that the briefing was over, was pouring an extra-large coffee.

It’d wake him up, for sure. Damn well better not do target practice today, though, because Elias doubted his hands would be steady if he kept up this rate of caffeine consumption.

Marko, Kelsey’s relief bodyguard, crowded in, waving an empty mug. “Leave some for the rest of us, why don’t you.”

“You know how to work a coffee maker. You can make more.” Elias would bet an entire paycheck that not a single guard in this room needed the coffee as badly as he did.

“Late night?” Marko cupped his hand around his mouth and semi-whispered, “Got a good story to share?”

Not in a million years. Especially not to Marko, who prided himself on being a player. “Just didn’t get much sleep. I’ve a meeting with Prince Christian in an hour. Need to be sharp.” Elias dumped in three spoonfuls of sugar. He never used it, but he’d take any advantage today.

“We all know the prince is your best friend. I don’t think you’d get the axe if you yawned in front of him.”

True. Odd that Marko brought it up, though.

Christian never gave him preferential treatment. They were both scrupulous about maintaining a strictly professional relationship when Elias was guarding him. Since their friendship predated Elias’s induction into the Royal Protection Service, the rest of the guards never made a fuss about it.

“He wouldn’t axe me.” Elias ceded the remaining half inch of coffee to Marko, moving to lean against the doorjamb. “But I’d do it myself. We’re not friends when I’m on duty. He’s my protectee.”

Swearing, Marko dumped it in the sink and grabbed a filter. “Not anymore. Not with Princess Valentina back on the scene.”

The security teams were all fully briefed on Kelsey’s true identity. Technically, they gave everyone the same level of protection, from members of Parliament to visiting diplomats. But knowing you were responsible for the safety of a member of the royal family stepped up everyone’s game. And it just might make a difference should that snap second come when a guard had to decide to give his life to keep a protectee safe.

“Well, that could be a temporary assignment. Nothing’s decided, which is why I’m staying in the loop with His Highness by meeting this morning.”

Not that Elias wanted to think about Kelsey leaving. Or her staying.

Either way, the inevitable end of their relationship.

Normally, if something bothered him, he’d vent to Christian. The prince was a great sounding board, and when he didn’t have anything useful to say, doled out sympathy, swearing, and Scotch. But there was no way he could tell his best friend how torn up he was about the possibility—hell, the definite need—to give Kelsey up.

Explaining that he’d fallen for Christian’s little sister would be the end of their friendship. The end of his career. Not to mention pointless, since he couldn’t change the facts. In less than a week, he and Kelsey would be through.

And all the time he stole with her didn’t make that any easier to swallow. The more he saw her, the more he wanted to see her. It was maddening. But he couldn’t stop.

Marko looked over one shoulder, then the other. There were a handful of other guards still milling about their break room. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. “How about we take a walk before you have that meeting?”

That was odd. Elias thought they worked well as a team. Marko was his preferred sparring partner. And he enjoyed nursing a beer at a bar while watching his friend, the ultimate player, plow through every pretty female. He couldn’t think of any reason why they’d need to “take a walk.”

Shrugging into his jacket to cover his weapon, Elias said, “Shouldn’t you be heading up to Miss Wishner’s suite?”

“Soon.” Instead of going out the door leading to the main hallway, Marko jerked his head toward the back of the room. They went past the briefing room, past the bullpen, and past the locker rooms and gym. Marko punched in a code and opened the door to the armory.

“What’s this about?”

“It’s the most secure place I know, and I respect you too much to have anyone overhear this conversation.”

That didn’t sound good. Elias fisted his hand around the support for the nearest set of shelves, lined with boxes of ammo. “What the hell, Marko?”

“I should be asking you that.” Feet planted wide, thumbs tucked into the waist of his pants, Marko said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing fucking around with a Princess of the Realm?”

On a scale of one to ten of badness, this topped out at three hundred.

Denial was pointless. Marko wouldn’t confront him over a mere hunch. He knew. But how? They’d been so damned careful.

First things first, though.

In a smooth lunge, Elias seized Marko by the knot of his tie and shook him hard, once. “Don’t ever disrespect Her Highness with that kind of language again.”

The man had enough sense of self-preservation to go lax and not fight him. “Sorry. The disrespect was aimed at you, not her.”

“That’s the only reason I’m not beating you black-and-blue.” Elias let go and stepped back. Smoothed the lapel of his jacket and wished he could smooth the panic pinging through his brain half as easily. “How’d you find out?”

Marko eyed him warily. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, damage control. Have to figure out who else might know, or even suspect.”

“Nobody.” Then squinting as he reconsidered, he tilted his hand side to side. “Maybe Lathan, but not likely.”

“That’s not good enough. How, damn it?”

“I heard her talking to her sister. Miss Wishner, that is, not Princess Genevieve. We were in the grotto. They thought I was far back enough I couldn’t hear, but their voices just pinged off all that stone and came right at me.” Marko grinned. “Apparently, you’re ‘knee-meltingly wonderful’ in the sack.”

Christ. Good to know Kelsey appreciated his moves. But he didn’t know how he’d be able to look Mallory in the face the next time he saw her. Roughly, Elias muttered, “I don’t need a performance review, thank you very much.”

“Just reporting the details as I heard them.” He opened a box of bullets and took one out to play it over the backs of his fingers. Without looking up, he asked, “So it is true?”

“Yes. The legend of my bedroom prowess is not overhyped,” Elias deadpanned.

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m well aware.”

Although—if Elias believed in that nonsense—he’d say it was a huge karmic joke. That he’d spend his entire life working to salvage his family’s honor, to never make a single misstep, only to be tempted by the most amazing woman that he absolutely couldn’t have…

Marko snatched up another bullet to run over his other hand. Guess he really wanted an excuse not to look Elias in the face. “Look, this is awkward, a conversation I never want to have with anyone ever again, let alone a guy who outranks me and, on occasion, can be a better shot than me. But…what are you doing?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Taking his one shot?

Seizing the moment?

Being a reckless fool?

Elias paced in slow, measured steps to the end of the room. Past all the racks of police batons, ammunition, handguns, rifles, automatic rifles, grenades, gas masks, tear gas, and Kevlar vests. It still didn’t give him enough time to come up with a good answer, one that would explain away the immense risk he was taking with his career. His honor. And hell, his heart.

But all he blurted out was, “Kelsey’s…special.”

Marko glanced up enough to roll his eyes. “She’s a princess.”

“Not like that. She’s a special woman, with a big heart who doesn’t care at all about being royal. She just…cares. She’s beautiful. A little off-center. With a core of sweetness like the chocolate in the middle of a croissant.”

“Don’t attack me again, but”—Markus let the bullets fall and loosely fisted his hands, as though worried enough about Elias charging that he prepared—“she is beautiful. So is this just a one-off? Every man in the country’s been panting after Princess Genevieve for a decade, and Princess Valentina looks just like her.”

“It’s Princess Kelsey,” he snapped.

Yeah, he’d spent his whole life worrying about the missing Princess Valentina, just like everyone else. But Elias saw how hard this transition was for her. She might very well accept being folded into the Villani royal family. He had no doubt, however, that she’d always remain Kelsey Wishner in her mind. That’s who she was.

And all of Moncriano needed to accept it.

“You really think they’ll let her keep that name?” Marko winced, like he’d sucked on a lemon. “It’s so American.”

“It’s Irish, actually.” Because yes, the investigative team had checked. They’d looked into the origins of the name Kelsey Margaret Wishner to see if there was any possible clue in it to her abduction. “It is her name. If she stays, I have no doubt she’ll keep it. We need to not only respect that, but help enforce it.”

Cocking his head to the side, Marko said quietly, “I guess you answered my question after all. You like her, don’t you? You’re having some kind of an actual relationship with her?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“I know.” Elias leaned back against a rack and let his head bang into the shelf. Hard. It didn’t shake loose any of his longing for Kelsey, though.

Marko stalked down to lean against the opposite rack, arms crossed. “There’s literally no way this can end well.”

“I know.”

“As soon as she’s announced as the missing princess, the country will go nuts. Her official calendar will fill up. The grand duchess will start a husband search for her, if she hasn’t already. You’ll have to distance yourself.”

“I know.” Did Marko really think Elias hadn’t come up with all these points himself? And repeated them twenty times a day? Nothing about being with Kelsey made sense. Except for the time when he was actually with her. Then everything in his head quieted, the world faded away, and the only thing that made sense was her.

“If you know all that, why’d you even start down that road?” Marko punched him in the biceps. He packed some heat behind it, too. “It’s dangerous, man. I don’t want you to lose your job. But if anyone besides me finds out, there’s no way you can keep it. You’re compromised.”

Elias straightened faster than a yanked zipper. “I’m not. I’m Prince Christian’s primary bodyguard and his best friend. Nobody accused me of being compromised in that role.”

“Falling for a woman is entirely different. Doesn’t matter if you end up leading with your dick or your heart. All that matters is you’re not leading with your head.”

“I know,” Elias muttered again. And then he broke into laughter, because what else could he do at that point? Keep repeating himself?

“Never in a million years would I have pegged you for a guy to not just break the rules, but break the biggest one of all. Consciously. Willingly. Did I mention that you’re a fucking idiot?”

“Yeah, but it bears repeating.”

Marko punched him again, only half as hard. “What are you going to do?”

Time to face the music. Elias refused to try and force Marko to stay silent. It was his mistake, and his alone. He wouldn’t drag his friend down with him. “Will you report me?”

There was an extra long beat of measuring silence. “Depends on your answer.”

Fair enough. Elias pressed the heels of his hands above his eyebrows. Squinting his eyes tightly shut, as though that’d keep him from seeing the inevitable future, he said, “I’m not going to do anything. Yet. If the princess leaves Moncriano, we’re over. If she stays, we’re over. Every way this plays out, within the next week, we’re done.”

“As long as you know that’s how it has to be.”

“I know,” he echoed himself, hollowly. “There’s no other option.”

“Then I’ll let you have your fun.” One hand on the doorknob, Marko huffed out a breath and shook his head. “But for Christ’s sake, be more careful.”

…

The desk and coffee table in Prince Christian’s study held half of an enormous breakfast. A platter of sausages, a basket of crumpets, a mound of scrambled eggs, a bowl of fruit, and a plate of cheeses.

“Are you expecting someone besides me?” Elias asked. “There’s enough food here to feed at least three more people. Or your friend Sergei when he’s trying to eat away a hangover.”

Christian dipped his head. “I’m hiding. I asked the kitchen to bring us breakfast in my chambers and they got overly excited.”

Elias shoveled a little of everything onto his plate. Food should energize him, on top of the sugar and caffeine. He hoped, at least. “Why are you hiding?”

“Breakfast with the family for the last three days has comprised of arguments about Kelsey.”

Elias cringed. “Sounds like something you should be mediating.”

“Not interesting ones I’d like to have a say in, but things like what color palette suits her best.”

When he’d been on duty, he’d caught some of those conversations, too. “That sounds…boring. Pounding-your-head-on-the-table boring.”

“If her fascinators should have veils or feathers. If her heels can be the same height as Genevieve’s, or if they need to be shorter because Grandmother saw her ankles wobble the other day and that pretty much predicted the fall of the House of Villani if seen by anyone outside palace walls.” Christian threw the crust of his toast down so hard that it bounced off the plate and onto the floor.

Elias picked it up, and was mildly surprised the prince hadn’t put his fist through the wall yet. “It’s my job to protect you, Your Highness. Therefore, I’m going to insist you hole up in here for breakfast every day. At least until their dithering calms down.”

“Thanks, Eli. You’ve always got my back.”

His back…and his sister’s front.

It was hard for Elias to stand there, soaking in the smile of gratitude from his best friend, all the while knowing that he’d had his hands all over Christian’s baby sister not five hours ago. He didn’t deserve that kind of trust. Not the way he’d been abusing it lately.

Did it make a difference that Christian and Kelsey were practically strangers? That she shouldn’t be off-limits, in that case? That technically, the prince should barely have any sense of needing to protect her honor?

Yeah, not likely. The only person more loyal to the bone than Elias himself? That’d be Christian. He’d give Kelsey a kidney tomorrow—without blinking—if she needed it. Merely because the blood of the Villanis ran in her veins.

Which made Elias a snake in the grass. Horse shit on a shoe. The lowest of the low. The guilt weighed on him every hour, like the entire island of Malta pressed down on his shoulders. But Elias wouldn’t give up a single moment he’d shared with Kelsey, or the few remaining to him in the next week. Not even for Christian.

He started shoveling eggs into his mouth so he’d have an excuse not to look up.

“I’m not merely hiding. Papa and I had an early conference call with the Privy Council.” Christian picked up his plate and came around to join him on the blue brocade sofa behind the table.

He did that all the time when it was just the two of them. The prince said he felt stupid and pretentious talking at Elias from behind the desk. Usually, Elias appreciated that his friend didn’t want the layers of rank to come between them.

This morning, though, a little space would’ve been welcome.

Elias layered quince jelly onto his crumpet. “A call? Why didn’t you meet?”

“It’d be impossible to keep a meeting secret that has the King and the Crown Prince in attendance with the entire Privy Council. Rumors would fly that Papa was abdicating, or some such nonsense.”

“That’s stupid. If he didn’t abdicate after Queen Serena’s death, he’s not going to do it now.”

Christian waved the butter knife, as though cutting through a web of gossip. “Ah, but you see, you’re using logic. Rumors are never logic-driven.”

“I’ll bite. Why the secret call?”

“To tell them the missing Princess Valentina has been found by none other than the valiant Royal Protection Officer Trebanti.”

“Damn it. Really? You had to go and stick my name into the narrative?” The last thing Elias wanted was any spotlight shining on him. He’d found her because it was his job to do so. Period. Just like it was his job to stay in the background. Not be noticed. Not draw any focus away from his royal charges.

And he liked that role.

Christian’s mouth turned down into an expression of…pity? Like he knew how miserable this would make Elias? “The number one question after where has she been all these years will be who found her. We can’t pretend that Kelsey—out of the blue—walked up to the palace gates and asked to see her family.”

They could say space aliens dropped her from a tractor beam, for all he cared. “You can simply say she was located by the Royal Protection Service. No need to go into details.”

“Have you lost your mind? The press, the public, the world are going to scrape for every single last detail of this story. From what was Princess Valentina’s last meal in New York to can she speak our language yet? After only two damn weeks.”

Elias moved on to a hunk of cheddar. It gave him something to do with his hands besides punch them into the back of the couch in frustration. Because he knew Christian was right—if not underplaying the whole thing. “Her maid’s teaching her the important words pretty fast.”

“How to swear?”

“Yeah.” They both grinned.

“I know you’ll hate being in the news. But…welcome to my world.” Christian spread his arms wide along the gold curlicue that formed the top edge of the sofa.

Elias shuddered. Seeing it from the fringes was bad enough. “I don’t want to be in your world unless I also get the salary and the cars. The Lamborghini, to be specific.”

“Dream on. You’d also have to marry some vapid, foreign titled woman and make her pop out babies in short order. We both know how much you despise spoiled heiresses.”

Elias wasn’t a fan of anyone who didn’t pull their weight, contribute something to life besides spending money. Or, say, know the capital of their country.

Sex was fun, but you needed to be able to talk to the woman before, during, and after. And about more than fashion and fine wines. Some of the women in Christian’s sphere seemed to think being pretty was the only requirement to catch the prince’s eye. Were they ever wrong.

With another big shudder, Elias said, “As do you, Your Highness.”

Christian nodded emphatically. “Which is why I’m not married yet. Thankfully, this whole Kelsey thing will distract the Privy Council from pushing me on it for at least a year. Maybe I owe her a Lamborghini.”

“That’d work for me. As her protection officer, I’d of course drive her in it. For safety. She isn’t used to navigating on the other side of the road.”

Bracing his palms on his thighs, Christian leaned closer. His official mask of seriousness slipped into place. “You know, Eli, if you really want that car, I’d give it to you. Tomorrow. Anything you want—name it—for bringing my baby sister back.”

Elias didn’t need things. Nor did he even need the gratitude of his eventual monarch. Especially not when he’d already been gifted with the reward of getting to know Kelsey. Of feeling twelve-feet-tall every time she batted those violet eyes at him. Feeling at peace in a way he never had before just from holding her hand.

Unable to say any of that, he snarled, “Shall I remind you again how I was only doing my job?”

Getting up, Christian walked over to pluck his ceremonial Navy sword off the wall, mounted above the fireplace. He unsheathed it and pointed it at Elias. “The king asked me if he should knight you.”

“Did you say hell, no?”

“Not in so many words.”

“In any words?” Because Elias needed a knighthood about as much as he needed a set of diamond barrettes for his hair. It’d look just as ridiculous on him, too. He was a sailor, a soldier. A man who worked, not one who let others work for him.

“I told him you’d been so busy guarding the princess and helping her acclimate to her new life that we hadn’t had the chance to discuss a suitable reward.”

Elias deliberately stood, scooped another big spoonful of eggs on his plate—turned out last night’s sex wasn’t just exhausting, but it made him famished—and another sausage. “There. Reward duly given and gratefully accepted.”

“Breakfast?”

“You said anything I want. And right now, I’m starving.”

Christian sheathed the sword. “One day, I’ll figure out what you truly want. The favor you need but are afraid to ask. Then I’ll finally get to repay you for all these years of sticking by me.”

“Or you could feed me again tomorrow morning. Call it even.” Because Elias had plans for Kelsey tonight. Plans that would undoubtedly make him even more famished and exhausted by this time tomorrow. But he needed to get Christian off this bullshit idea of rewarding him before then. “How’d the Privy Council take the big news?”

Christian pressed the backs of his knuckles into his forehead, wincing. “I’ve never heard the prime minister squeal before…and let’s be crystal clear on how much I never, ever want to hear it again.”

Prime Minister Skeggit was a supremely serious former judge. She smiled while campaigning and at King Julian. Period. Built like a battleship with short, no-nonsense grey hair, she was only slightly less imposing than Grand Duchess Agathe. Elias would’ve been hard-pressed to believe she’d squealed at age five, blowing out her birthday candles.

“That’s very wrong.”

“As wrong as a five-headed frog.”

“Not just as wrong as a three-headed frog?”

“Trebanti, if you’d heard this—” Christian broke off. He slammed the sword loudly back into the holder on the wall. “I think I’ll hear it in my nightmares from now on.”

“More to the point, did you agree on a plan? To present the princess to Parliament, and the country?”

“We’ll let the protocol police hammer out those details. It’ll be days of jockeying for who gets to see her first, gets greeted first, stand closer. All that rigamarole that drives me crazy.”

For someone destined to be king, Christian had little patience with ceremony and obsequiousness. Much like Kelsey. “But the timeline stays the same? Another week?”

“Yes, although they’d prefer to do it in half an hour. They’re convinced this will boost morale exponentially among our people. The country’s been torn apart over this vote to join the European Union. Kelsey’s reappearance will help heal it. Maybe even the fact that she’s been living overseas will prove that joining with foreigners isn’t a bad thing. She could turn the tide of the vote without ever broaching the topic.”

It all sounded positive. It did not sound at all, however, like it had been mentioned Kelsey hadn’t yet decided whether or not to embrace Moncriano as her home. “Christian. I understand they were excited by the news. But did you tell them she might not stay? That she might leave and renounce the Villani name entirely?”

“Not a chance. She sees herself every time she looks at us. We’re family. That’s a bond that can’t be broken.”

How could he make the prince understand? “Still, she could choose to return to America. I’d put it at a better than fifty-percent chance. She feels isolated. Her life is so different here than what she’d planned to be doing. I’m not sure Moncriano has given her enough reasons to stay.”

Christian clapped him heavily on the shoulder. “Elias, you’re my ace in the hole. Do whatever you can to convince her. Make sure Kelsey feels like this is where she belongs.”

Holy hell. Elias fake coughed to keep from laughing out loud. If only Christian knew what he’d just given Elias license to continue to do to his baby sister…