A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance) (3 page)

BOOK: A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance)
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“Nope, I’m perfectly fine,” she assured him, hoping her face wasn’t as flushed as it felt.

His scrunched face said he didn’t believe her, but he shrugged and waved over his shoulder. Daphne wanted to hear what else her cousin knew about her new bodyguard, but that would’ve been highly inappropriate. That, and Dion had a big mouth. He would relay it all to his mother without even thinking what she would say to the queen. Her Aunt Agnes was not a woman Daphne enjoyed dealing with on a regular basis. Agnes was a spiteful woman, only tolerated because of her relationship to the late prince and her husband. Dion wasn’t so bad when he was by himself, but the second the two were in a room together, Daphne wanted to smack him upside the head.

Daphne knew what her aunt was really after, though she would never say it out loud. It was the other reason she was in no mood to celebrate her birthday, knowing her aunt was after the throne for Dion and would keep pushing to find a way to make it happen.

When Marie returned with a steaming cup of coffee, Daphne was seated at her large, ornate desk, shuffling through the terms for the new educational reforms she was trying to establish on the island.

“If you continue to frown like that, you’ll get wrinkles,” Marie warned.

“If I could get anyone to listen to me, I wouldn’t have to frown,” Daphne mused. “Thanks, Marie.”

“Of course, but you do not have all day for that. We’ll start getting you ready soon.”

Absently, she nodded and tried to picture herself anywhere but stuck in this damn palace for another stupid ball she did not want to attend.

Chapter 2

 

The afternoon went by in a flurry of maps and plans Matt had to learn for his new job, but maps and plans were second-nature for him. In the military, he hadn’t dealt much with protection details. He simply treated this as any other mission, and everything fell into place.

When he’d first arrived, Ambrose went over most of what his job would entail, but little information was given to him concerning Princess Daphne. Matt tried not to judge a person until he met him or her, but when he’d fought overseas, he’d seen firsthand how certain royals acted around those of the lower classes, and he’d waited for the haughty attitude. Add that to the rumors spreading around the city of Daphne being a shut-in, too damaged by her sister’s death to step out into the city and possibly not all there in the head, a forced image had appeared in his mind that morning on his way here. Instead, he’d been greeted by a woman he wasn’t quite sure what to do with. She certainly wasn’t on happy pills, but the way she smiled was completely fake.

Her eyes pulled him in, though, eyes filled with such passion, but for what, he had no idea.

“Time for the ball,” Ambrose said nearby, and Matt nodded, checking his watch.

“Of course. I’m assuming all invited have been cleared?”

Ambrose chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Thorough, man, that’s what I like to see. Yes, all the guests have been cleared and six men will greet them at the door to ensure there are no unwanted persons. Bring Princess Daphne to the ballroom. From there, all you have to do is stand in the shadows and watch.”

The night was going to be boring compared to the crazy pulsing of the nightclubs, but Matt figured it’d be good for him in the long run. He adjusted his tie and jacket before heading out of the surveillance room in the lower level of the palace. The halls buzzed with servants moving about, directions being given, and the other guards moving to their designated posts for the night. Each step brought him closer to Daphne’s rooms, and his hands twitched at his sides. His nerves were raw from the surrounding noise, and when he found himself alone in a hall, he leaned against the wall and gritted his teeth.

Pull it together
, he yelled silently at himself.
You cannot fall apart on the first day of the job.

He sucked in a few deep breaths through his nose, straightened, and strode off towards Daphne’s rooms. When he knocked a few moments later, his heart stopped pounding as hard, but his right hand twitched against his leg.

“Princess Daphne, I’m here to escort you downstairs,” he called through the door.

“One minute!” she yelled back.

Matt frowned, glancing down at his watch. “We will be late, princess.”

“A princess cannot be late to her own ball,” was the response he received, and his neck flushed with heat.

The door opened when he was ready to call through it again, and Marie motioned him inside. “Thank you, Marie,” he said roughly and stepped inside. “Princess Daphne, are you ready?”

Heels clicked across the stone floor, and his gaze shifted to the bedroom doorway. Daphne emerged a moment later, and all sense of panic disappeared in an instant. Earlier, when he was first introduced to her, he’d noticed her stunning face and near-perfect body with all its delicious curves, but her standing in that deep blue strapless dress made him realize he hadn’t looked as long as he should’ve earlier.

“What do you think?” she asked and swirled the dress around.

“I’m your bodyguard,” he said stiffly and cleared his throat.

“Yes, you are. So you can’t have an opinion?” she replied, an easy grin spreading across her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

He shifted, clasping his hands behind his back, and nodded towards the door. “Whenever you are ready, princess, we will head downstairs.”

Her smile fell, and she lifted her chin, striding quickly past him. Her dress flowed out around her and hugged everything from her hips up in way that drove his hands to twitch for a completely different reason. If she had been a woman at the nightclub, he would’ve invited her back to his place once the club closed. But she was a princess and completely, utterly off-limits.

The mantra repeated itself over and over in his mind while he led her down the corridor. Every now and then, she lifted her hand to her ear, tugging on the lobe before giving her head a little shake and forcing her arm back to her side. Nerves? No, there hadn’t been nervousness in those light blue eyes that held his gaze so steadily. Something else bothered the princess.
Probably which man she’s going to dance with first
, he thought. It didn’t bother him, but chasing her around the ball was not something he looked forward to.

Neither spoke as they walked down the main staircase. Music drifted through the palace and bounced off the stone walls. Matt waited when Daphne suddenly stopped. He glanced around, his hand drifting to the gun holstered at his side. There was no one around them but servants.

“Princess Daphne?” he asked uncertainly.

“Right, sorry,” she muttered.

She rolled her shoulders back and strode gracefully towards the ballroom where two servants waited to open the door. One of them knocked loudly, and the music fell silent on the other side. A man’s voice called out her name, and the double doors swung inwards. Daphne stepped through to the sound of clapping and cheering. Matt slipped in behind her and immediately moved to the side and out of the way.

From his years in the military, he’d learned to have a good eye for spotting trouble. Sitting behind a high-powered rifle with only a scope to see through and a man calling out targets, he had to be good. Otherwise he’d be dead.

Daphne shook hands and hugged guests decked out in tuxedos and colorful dresses ranging from blues to pinks. With his eyes trained on her location, he clasped his hands behind his back and settled in for a long night of watching. The king and queen stood at the head of the room, their four bodyguards and Ambrose flanking them.

“I see you made it down with no trouble,” a voice came over Matt’s com in his ear.

“Yes, sir,” he replied to Ambrose’s gruff voice.

“The night should run smoothly. You’re allowed to not look like you’re ready to tackle someone,” he said with a chuckle.

“This is the only face I have, sir,” Matt said tightly.

Behind his back, his hands fidgeted when the music grew louder. His feet shifted and he began to second-guess his choice. Her laughter broke through the crowd’s talking. Daphne. The laughter was forced—anyone paying attention would notice that—as was the smile plastered on her face. That aside, the sound grounded him, and he focused solely on its sweetness.

 

***

 

For the most part, the night was less stressful than Daphne assumed it would be—until she heard her aunt’s shrill cackle across the room. All her positive vibes shattered with the noise.

“Daphne! Where is my beautiful niece?”

Cringing as she brushed her hair from her face, Daphne collected herself before answering. When she turned, she grinned and held out her arms to embrace her Aunt Agnes. “Aunt, I’m glad you made it. We were worried you would be too busy.”

“To celebrate with you? Never,” she crowed, holding Daphne’s face a bit too tightly in her hands. “You look more like your mother every day.”

“Dad says the same thing,” she replied, waiting impatiently for her to let go. When she did, Daphne forced her hands to stay at her sides and not rub her cheeks. “Dion says you’re trying to find him a wife again.”

Agnes nodded stiffly, and the smile left her eyes. “Yes, well, you are both in line to find spouses and carry on the family name. Part of being heirs to the throne.”

Daphne’s smile hardened at the not so subtle hint. It was well known Agnes wanted her son to take the throne when the time came and not Daphne. Though Daphne’s father was the king, he had not been the eldest son. Agnes had married the eldest in line to the throne when the previous king died. But, as fate would have it, her husband, Daphne’s Uncle Evander, died of a heart attack before the death of the king.

When the throne passed to Calix and Alexandria instead, Agnes never let it go. The slight, as Agnes saw the situation, was a constant fight, usually left for times when the family was alone. Rarely did the woman not bring the throne up in front of Daphne.

“Yes, well, I hope he finds someone who makes you both happy,” Daphne replied in a light tone. “Have you spoken to Mother tonight?”

Agnes’s face pinched in anger, and her hands fluttered over the horrid yellow dress that clashed with her olive skin. “No, I have not. I wanted to see you first, and now that I have, I suppose I should let you go back to your mingling. Enjoy the party, Daphne,” she remarked dismissively and strode quickly away.

Daphne, alone for a moment, fought her anger. The threat might have been veiled, but it was there all the same. Her eyes searched for Dion and found him surrounded by women, as always. Agnes wanted him to take the throne from Daphne. Was that his goal as well? Would he do that to her after all the time they’d spent together growing up? He was really her only friend on the whole island, though lately, his happy personality had shifted.

Maybe I should just give it to him and be done with it
. The thought crossed her mind so fast she wasn’t even sure where it came from. Her parents would never allow it, and she knew rumors had circulated recently involving Dion and his hobbies. She’d turned a deaf ear to them, but maybe…

No, she wouldn’t decide anything unless she knew for certain.

Her hands picked up her skirts, and she turned, bracing herself to carry on for the rest of the evening when her bodyguard caught her attention. Usually, she didn’t notice the bodyguard, but Matt’s gaze pierced through her. The intensity burned into her back as if he stood right behind her, but he hadn’t moved from his spot at the side of the room, his shoulders tense, his hands firmly clasped behind him and feet apart. If it wasn’t for the suit he wore, she would’ve guessed he was a soldier here to attend the ball as an honored guest.

His gaze flicked up to meet hers and narrowed. A shiver spiraled down her spine as that gaze trailed slowly over her body like he was caressing her with his hands. Her breath catching painfully in her chest, she clutched her thighs together to stop the sudden throbbing between them. Then his gaze shifted, and she gasped.

“Daphne! Come over here. There’s someone I want you to meet,” Dion called.

She tore her gaze from Matt and waved at Dion. Her body shook from his lingering stare, and she slowly sashayed across the room, her knees threatening to give out on her. What the hell had Matt done to her? Anger flared inside her because he made her feel so… so what?

Tugging at her earlobe, Daphne realized it was arousal filling her so fiercely. That damn man. If he was going to caress her with those damn eyes constantly, she would have to put a stop to it, quickly, before she made a fool of herself.

 

***

 

Matt grunted as he waited for Daphne at the door. The ball had finally ended and he was ready to finish his duty for the night and collapse into his bed. Tonight had been easy enough, but it tired him out more than being in the midst of a dancing crowd at the clubs.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Daphne asked when she reached him, stifling a yawn.

“It’s not my job to have fun,” he muttered. “Are you ready to return to your rooms?”

“Fine, be a stiff,” she mumbled and led the way to the stairs. Her shoulders tensed when he stayed close behind her, and she inhaled as if to speak except no words left her mouth.

“Something wrong, princess?”

“Nothing,” she replied, flashing another fake smile over her shoulder. She tugged her earlobe, and his whole body reacted, heat pouring through him. Her hair, mostly up for the ball, had fallen throughout the night, and as they walked, she pulled out the rest of the pins, letting it cascade freely down her back.

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