Princess Bodyguard

by Sophie Thompson

  "I had closure. I finally put it all behind me and moved on." The last thing Elizabeth wanted was to dredge up the pain she left in the past.

  "That's not closure and you know it."

  Elizabeth knew her brother was right, but she did not care. She moved on and did not intend to revisit that painful time in her life.

  "Can't you get him kicked out of the meeting? Make him leave. I'm sure no one would miss him." Elizabeth felt as if she was becoming unglued. Callum just stood there like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be standing at her luncheon. At her palace. In her country.

  "You know I can't do that."

  "Why?" She crossed her arms over her chest feeling lost and overwhelmed.

  "Maybe he took this opportunity to finally make peace," Stefan offered.

  "I don't want peace. I don't want closure. I just want him gone." Elizabeth turned around and looked out over the gardens with her arms crossed.

  Stefan stood up and put his hands in his pockets. "Major Evans's name was not part of the original roster and he traveled alone, not with the main delegation. I overheard some of the American delegates talking out him. Philip certainly did not appreciate Callum showing up unexpectedly, but the group tried to hide it and introduced him as if he was one of them."

  "But he's not. I know it. Something else is going on."

  Elizabeth knew that Callum was not here for the opening of a new base. He did not fit in with the other diplomats that made up the delegation. He stood out like a Doberman among Chihuahuas.

  Stefan turned and leaned against the railing next to her. "I'll ask around. Make a few calls. See what I can find out."

  Elizabeth leaned over and bumped her brother on his arm with her shoulder. "Thank you."

  Stefan turned to her again, his face serious. "Elizabeth, you never did tell me all that happened between you. All I know is that you two became close and you did not part well. I am guessing that promises were made and then broken, but what…? "At the sound of the French doors opening, they both turned towards the intruder, unsaid words hanging between them. Stefan stood-up and smiled at Watson.

  Watson returned the smile and closed the balcony doors behind him. Elizabeth felt the stress of the morning leave her body as he strode over to her and gave her a warm kiss on the cheek. He was light where Callum was dark. Elizabeth pressed her hand against Watson's clean-shaven cheek and she could not stop her mind from remembering the rough feel of Callum's face if he went a day without shaving. Watson's eyes turned warm, welcoming the invitation of her touch. Elizabeth smiled, embarrassed that the intensity between them was instigated by her thoughts - or frustrations - about another man.

  Elizabeth removed her hand not wanting Watson to misread the gesture and think she was ready to make promises she had no intention of making. Men. They surrounded her most of the time, and generally she gave it little thought, but this morning they seemed like they were nothing but a source of stress. And Watson's next words did not offer any relief.

  "I just finished a teleconference with the commander of the base the Americans are about to take over. Someone set off a small explosive device at the front gate. No one was hurt, but the base commander was worried that this might be the first of other attacks."

  Watson continued, lines of concern creasing his face. "I'm worried that if the Americans find out, it could upset plans for the official signing of the base agreement on Sunday. We detailed another security team to the base just in case."

  "Any leads on who is behind this?" Stefan asked.

  "The police and base security are working it, but no one had claimed responsibly yet. Likely just a traditionalist upset about negotiating with the Americans," Watson offered.

  "Ridiculous." Stefan crossed his arms. "I'm all for tradition, but if this country is going to survive we need to open up to foreign investment. It is what is best for our small nation. Best for the people."

  "Tradition is not necessary a bad thing either. You and Elizabeth might not remember since you spent most of your lives in England. But for me, and a lot of Conwyns, we don't have such bad memories."

  Elizabeth knew Watson felt very protective of the old regimes since his family had a large part in the way the country was run in the past.

  Stefan turned to Watson his eyes assessing. "Are you saying you do not support our Alliance with the Americans?"

  Elizabeth felt the tension between the two men.

  "No, it's not that I don't support it. Of course I do. I have sat next to you on many nights trying to hammer out the accord." Stefan nodded his head in agreement. His arms hanging once again at his sides as Watson continued. "It's just that things are moving very fast. Maybe too fast for a lot of people."

  "The agreement will be signed this weekend. We have all been working on this for too long to lose focus now. That is just what the hardliners want us to do." Stefan was adamant.

  "Yes, but until now the debate was just that - a debate. Talk. Now it is real with the American visit on the cover of the newspaper every day." Watson shrugged his shoulders, an uncharacteristic gesture for him Elizabeth thought.

  Stefan patted Watson on the back. "You're right. This is a huge change for everyone and I can't forget that. But that does not excuse the violence. Let's talk later this afternoon. The meetings will go for a few more hours, then tonight we're taking the delegation to the ballet. Are you coming with us?"

  "Yes, I plan to escort the Princess." Watson smiled down at Elizabeth.

  "I've got to head back in. See you tonight." Stefan smiled, the tension that flared between the two men gone for now. Stefan asked Elizabeth. "Are you coming?"

  "In a few minutes," Elizabeth said.

  Stefan glanced at Watson than back to Elizabeth, winked, and then disappeared through the doors. Watson turned to Elizabeth and smiled.

  "I'm sorry to be the dissenting opinion on this, but I would be doing a disservice to your family if I was not honest about my thoughts."

  Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement. Still smiling, Watson took her hands in his. "Enough about politics. I enjoyed last night."

  Watson had cooked for her at his apartment in town. He had set the table with candles and hired a violinist to play for them as they ate.

  "It was lovely. Thank you again," Elizabeth said not wanting the conversation to go any further. She did not have the energy to discuss their relationship right now. Not with Callum somewhere in the palace. He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips for a light kiss.

  "I should be the one thanking you. I don't think I have ever had a more enjoyable night."

  She slipped her hands out of his and stood up, purposefully putting distance between them. "I should go. I want to get in a run before I have to get ready tonight."

  "You seem distracted. Is something wrong?" Watson asked.

  "No, I'm fine, just tired," she replied.

  He nodded his head and opened one of the balcony doors for her.

  "I will meet you downstairs at seven?"

  Elizabeth absently nodded her head, but her mind was already tackling how she was going to get through this evening knowing she would see Callum again.

  Callum watched Elizabeth and Victor leave for their run. He could not stop himself from admiring Elizabeth as she stretched, preparing her body for the workout. Although Callum had tried to replace that body with others over the last four years, no one ever came close to supplanting the space Elizabeth occupied in his heart and his mind. Every curve and every hollow was imprinted in his brain and tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. His eyes locked on her form as she stretched her hamstring. Despite his mind's protests, his body ached to discover Elizabeth all over again.

  Over the years, Callum tried to be thankful for the brief moment they had had together. Through some miracle of fate, he had been able to carve two months out of his life that he was able to call his own. Two months out of the darkness he normally lived in to bask in her light. He had known before their
relationship even began that it could be nothing more than temporary. But as the weeks turned into months, Callum had started believing the dream could be real. That he could actually, somehow, make a life for them. He laughed and turned away from the window. What a joke.

  "So what are you really doing here, Major Evans?"

  Callum turned and watched as Philip walked toward him, teacup in hand. Callum wanted to roll his eyes, but thought better of it. Philip might be a bureaucrat, but he had friends in high places, and the last thing Callum needed was too many people wondering what he was doing in Windsor.

  "Just going where the Army sends me," Callum answered noncommittally.

  Philip took a sip of his tea. Callum wanted to ignore the man and get up to Elizabeth's room to switch out her cell phone to one that could be monitored by his team before she returned from her run, but Philip clearly had something to say and Callum was just curious enough to hear it. Callum pasted a smile on his face and tried his best to act like he was listening in Philip's asinine comments.

  "I have to say, it was quite the surprise for me to see your name on the roster this morning."

  Philip took another sip of tea, pausing as if he needed to savor the taste. Callum imagined gnawing on a two by four. That would be easier than standing here and pretending that this moron actually might have something useful to say. Philip finally set his cup in its saucer and looked at Callum squarely. "So, Major Evans, I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?"

  "I'm here to help negotiate the base agreement. Isn't that what this conference is all about?" Callum did his best to look innocent, although he was not sure he was skilled enough to pull it off.

  "I think we both know that your particular presence here means something a little more than that," Philip suggested.

  Callum shrugged his shoulders. "Listen, I just do what I'm told to do. You know how it is, Phil. When the boss calls, all we can do is just suck it up and go where they tell us to."

  Callum would bet that Philip did not like hearing that he had anything in common with Callum or being reminded that he actually worked for someone. Philip was one of those paper pushers who liked to pretend he had more power than he actually did. Philip stepped away from Callum to carefully place his teacup down on one of the tables that lined the hall. When he turned back to Callum, Philip slowly slipped his right hand in to his pants pocket, his navy blue suit jacket obediently fell into to place neatly behind his wrist. Callum figured Philip practiced that move in front of the mirror about once a week believing that it made him look like Cary Grant. Callum wanted to tell him he missed it by a mile, but thought better of it.

  "We aren't going to have any problems, are we?" Philip asked.

  As much as Callum would love to make a few problems for Philip, he could not let his feelings toward the man cloud all rational thought. "You don't even know me, Phil. Why would you think there would be problems?"

  Philip smiled as if he was holding an ace up his sleeve. "You see, I know about you, Major Evans. Ambassador Studaman is a close friend of mine."

  Ah, that explained a lot. The fact that Philip and Stanley Studaman were friends confirmed every bias that Callum had about the man. Two bureaucratic peas in a pod. Callum did not even try to deny Philip's implied accusation. Why would he? It was one of his finer moments.

  "Yeah. We had a bit of a misunderstanding about what the word egress meant," Callum offered.

  "I believe you defined it with a chair out of a two-story window." Philip face twisted as if he just had a sour lemon.

  "It was a wooden bench actually."

  Callum smiled remembering his team being called in to rescue Studaman and his US Embassy staff after a coup in Sierra Leone turned violent. Callum and his team were called in to assist in evacuating the Embassy. They had successfully accomplished similar evacuations, but never before had he seen an Ambassador actually freak-out and abandon his staff during the chaos. By the time Callum finally found the man hiding in a bathroom stall, the front gates to the Embassy had been breached by the rebel forces.

  Luckily, the rest of Callum's team had loaded the Embassy staff into the Blackhawk helicopter that waited for them at a soccer field a block away. But with Stanley's little cut-and-run routine, and the extra time it took to find him, the entire mission was put in jeopardy.

  After judging the distance between where they were and where the helicopter was, Callum knew it would be much safer if they did not have to double back down the stairs and egress through the back door. So, Callum introduced a bench to a window to create another exit option. There was no doubt in his mind that that bench ended up saving both of their lives. But, instead of thanking him, all Studaman did once his pudgy little feet hit American soil was to complain about being man-handled by Callum.

  "You could have killed him." Philip was incredulous.

  "I lay odds that your buddy, Stanley, told the story from the safe and secure confines of his overly decorated office in DC. A place he never would have seen again if I had not used that bench the way I had."

  Philip's face turned a nice shade of pink. Before he could speak again, Callum gave Philip a satisfying slap on the back forcing him to take a quick step for balance.

  "It's been great talking with you, Phil, but I need to run. I have a few errands to do before the ballet tonight."

  Callum glanced outside making sure Elizabeth and Victor had not come back while he and Philip played the game of 'who was the boss and who was the flunky.' Callum turned and began walking down the corridor toward the west wing of the palace.

  "Evans, if you make a mockery of this conference, you will be handing in your credentials. Mark my words," Philip called after him.

  Callum kept his back to the man, but offered him a single wave of his hand over his head as acknowledgment that he had heard Philip's parting words. Turning the corner, Callum picked up the pace and headed for Elizabeth's room.

  Chapter 4

  Elizabeth's feet pounded the pavement in a mind-numbing rhythm. Unfortunately, it was not mind-numbing enough. With each step, Elizabeth wished she could stomp out the frustrating mix of emotions that churned her insides into mush and made her question her sanity. Usually she loved her daily runs. Always pushing herself a little faster and a little farther each day. She never listened to music, but preferred to be alone with her thoughts. Or sometimes no thoughts at all. Just the blood pumping in her ears and the soft, regular fall of her running shoes against the ground.

  It was the one time during the day she was alone. Well, as alone as she ever was. She glanced back to see Victor only a few paces behind her despite the grueling pace she set. Knowing Victor was always there behind her, allowed Elizabeth the true luxury of letting her mind wonder. To disengage from the day and just be. But today was different.

  There was nothing peaceful or relaxing about the thoughts that snarled her mind. This run was not about finding peace, but about holding on to some semblance of stability in her world that turned upside down as if someone threw all the puzzles pieces of her life in the air and said good luck. With each stride she tried to dig deeper within herself and find some way to be around Callum Evans for the next three days and not lose her mind. The alternative was to find some excuse not to attend the whirlwind of social functions and meetings. Although tempted, she refused to turn her back on her duties. Elizabeth always preferred to face her problems head-on. And Callum was definitely a problem. The need to exorcise Callum from her mind forced her to run faster and harder. To release her pain and anger through sweat and physical exhaustion since that man.

  Elizabeth rounded the corner and ran through the wrought-iron gate that would take her away from the manicured gardens of the palace grounds and onto one of the endless trails that criss-crossed over the open park land that would eventually lead her into the forest that surrounded the palace. She tried to concentrate on the wind in the trees that carried the crisp air off of the Black Sea. On most days, Elizabeth found the salty scent soothing
, but now it just stirred memories of their cabin on the beach in Honduras. One more reminder of the man she had decided to hate for the rest of her life.

  During the luncheon, Callum moved his chair so he was in her direct line of sight. She was sure he did it just to annoy her. But what upset her even more than his juvenile antics was that it worked. His presence flustered her and made her stomach tingle with excitement. She was so unnerved during the meal that she could barely hold a worthwhile conversation at the table. And good conversation was one of her most important jobs.

  She also noticed that their nearness did not seem to faze Callum at all. For most of the afternoon, he looked like the only thing that worried him was trying to stay awake. Meanwhile her pulse raced so fast she felt like she had just downed twenty espressos. The man infuriated her. Elizabeth picked up the pace of her stride again as she ran deeper into the forest trying to temper the anger swelling inside of her.

  What did she ever see in him? Sure he was attractive. Even handsome in a rugged, too-full-of-himself kind of way. She could even admit that his gray eyes were so striking against his olive skin and dark hair that it still took her breath away when he looked at her. Of course now the loss of breath felt more like an attack of asthma.

  An image from this afternoon of Callum in a blue suit and French cuffed shirt that hugged his expansive chest was replaced by a vivid memory of him in the early morning when coarse stubble clouded his cheeks. The so-called diplomat she met today was so different than the man who stole her heart four years ago. The man she had fallen in love with.

  They had met while she was doing work with the UN World Health Organization in Western Honduras. Most days she was either administering vaccinations to clinic patients or interviewing families in nearby villages about the health of their children. Elizabeth thought it was a perfect assignment.