Her Royal Bodyguard

by Natasha Moore

  “My Lucia is not a usual woman,” Rico said. He came through the doorway with the bags. They bumped against the walls as he tried to avoid the sofas and chairs scattered around the space. And now that he was in the room with them, it suddenly felt smaller. Warmer.

  “She was not what I expected either,” Rico added. He flashed Angelina a little smile.

  Rosa finally released Angelina’s hand. “Well, the diamond is a nice size, I’ll give you that. But the ring looks too big for her delicate finger.” She frowned at her nephew. “You should have had it sized.”

  Rico slapped his hand over his heart. “Tia. We did not want to wait for the time it would have taken.”

  His aunt laughed. “My impetuous nephew.” She glanced at Angelina. “You must be careful. It would be terrible to lose your ring. How long are you staying? We have a wonderful jeweler in town. If you drop it off today, they may be able to have it sized for you before you leave.”

  Angelina clasped her hand over the ring. “I couldn’t bear to give it up just yet. When we get back,” she added with a small smile. “I’ll be careful.”

  Rosa shook her head slowly, indulgently. “When did he tell you he loved you for the first time?”

  Angelina’s gaze flew to Rico’s. They hadn’t covered that scenario. This situation was calling for more improvisation than she’d expected. Rico stepped forward, brought her hand to his lips and placed a small, dry kiss to her knuckles.

  “I told her I loved her on the day that we met,” he murmured. The sincere way he said it had her almost believing it.

  Nervous laughter bubbled up. She couldn’t stop it. “Yes,” she whispered. “Love at first sight.”

  Deep laughter interrupted them. Rico dropped her hand and turned around. A rotund man step into the room. His salt and pepper hair was cut close to his scalp and he wore a stained white apron tied around his middle, emphasizing his girth even more. The lines creasing his face told Angelina he laughed often.

  “Love at first sight?” he scoffed. “Isn’t my nephew too old for such fairytales?”

  “Giuseppe!” Rosa cried. “This is Rico’s bride, Lucia. Are you saying that he should not have fallen in love with her?”

  “Bah! Fall in love, yes. But not at first sight.” His eyes lit up as he turned to Angelina and he was betrayed by the small lift of his lips. “Although with such beauty, how could any man resist?” He bowed and took her hand, kissed the tips of her fingers. Then he yanked her forward and wrapped his arms around her. “Welcome to the family.” He kissed both her cheeks.

  “Thank you.” Angelina’s face burned. Would she ever get used to such a demonstrative family? Her family loved her. She had no doubt of that, but they didn’t swoop or grab or crush. The royal family was much more reserved.

  But she was not really a member of this family. Shame at deceiving them caused her to blush again. She eased out of Giuseppe’s embrace and turned to Rico with a silent plea.

  “I fear my bride is tired from our journey,” Rico said. “If you can point us in the right direction…”

  “Of course,” Rosa said, but she didn’t move. Her eyes were bright with tears, her grin large in her thin face. “I’m so happy you wanted to come here.”

  “Breakfast will be on the table as soon as you are ready,” his uncle added. He shrugged. “I may have been cooking and baking all morning.”

  “Lucia has a fondness for biscotti,” Rico said.

  “Of course, she does,” Giuseppe replied. “Could there be anyone in Mezzano who does not like biscotti?”

  “No one I know of,” Angelina said with a smile.

  “Are they here yet?” Footsteps running down the stairs at the back of the lobby preceded a young woman with short, curly hair in faded jeans and a white blouse. “Rico!” She practically leapt in the air to throw her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you got married.”

  “My daughter, Maria,” Rosa said.

  Maria looked a little younger than Angelina. When she pushed away from Rico, she turned to Angelina. “Hi, I’m Maria. You’re so pretty. I wish we could have gone to the wedding.” She gave Angelina a quick hug. “I love your skirt.”

  Angelina looked down at the thin cotton skirt she never would have chosen for herself. Pink rose buds were strewn over a background of dark blue and matched the simple pink blouse. “Thank you.”

  “This is so romantic,” Maria went on. “We still should have been invited to the wedding. Do you have a picture of you in your wedding dress?”

  “Sadly, no.” Maria looked so heart-broken, Angelina found herself embellishing the story. “Perhaps we were foolish to wed so quickly that we didn’t have time to think about things like photographers or fancy wedding gowns or give family time to attend.”

  “You didn’t have a wedding gown?” Maria looked even sadder.

  Angelina forced a smile. “I wore the dress my mother was married in.” She’d always thought it would be wonderful to wear her mother’s wedding gown, but knew she’d require a designer dress when the time came for her real wedding.

  Both Maria and Rosa sighed. Rico shifted on his feet.

  “What color were your flowers?” Maria asked.

  Angelina had thought often of the flowers she would carry down the aisle, but a nosegay of white and red roses didn’t seem to fit the simple Lucia. “I carried a bouquet of wildflowers. Too many colors to count.”

  “It sounds beautiful.” Maria frowned and punched Rico in the arm. “And I missed it. Kiss her.”

  “What?” he asked, backing up a couple steps.

  “I didn’t get to see you all dressed up.” Maria propped her hands on her ample hips and narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t get to see the flowers or see you walking down the aisle. I want to see you kiss your bride.”

  Angelina’s gaze flew to Rico’s. Her pale skin must have been blazing red. “Oh…”

  “Oh, yes,” Rosa said with a big grin. “Kiss her, Rico.” Giuseppe just laughed.

  Rico shrugged. “We may as well give in, amore. They won’t give up until we do as they ask.”

  Angelina’s heart fluttered wildly. If they were wildly in love, they wouldn’t balk at sharing a simple kiss. Her gaze zeroed in on his mouth as he slowly crossed the lobby until he stopped in front of her. She tipped back her head to look up at him and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

  His strong arm snaked around her waist and tugged her tightly against him. He was so big. So hard. So hot. He slowly lowered his head, but instead of crushing his lips to hers, he brushed them softly over hers. “Relax,” he whispered, his mouth moving over hers. “You’ll like it. I promise.”

  Like was too small a word to express the press of his lips against hers. Like could never describe his scent enveloping her, his taste bursting on her tongue when she parted her lips and he rushed in to claim her mouth. Angelina wrapped her arms around his neck. Shivers danced along her skin. Her knees trembled and she might have sunk to the floor if he hadn’t been holding onto her so tightly.

  A moan she never expected rose from somewhere deep inside her. Rico froze then, broke off the kiss and snatched his hands from her as if he’d been burned. If they hadn’t had an audience she thought he might have pushed her away from him. Perhaps he got a little more lost in that kiss than he expected, just as she had. She lifted her arms from around his neck. He slowly stepped away, his eyes everywhere but on her.

  “Oh,” Maria sighed. “I can see how much you two love each other.”

  Angelina tried to calm her racing heart. She’d never been kissed like that before. Her body had never burned like this. She fumbled with the strap of her borrowed purse. Rico still wouldn’t look at her. Had the kiss been that bad?

  “Take them up to their room before they embarrass themselves more,” his uncle grumbled.

  Her lips buzzed from the kiss. She had to resist lifting her fingers to see if they were swollen.

  “Giuseppe,” Rosa scolded. She kissed Angelina and R
ico on their cheeks. “We are so glad you are here. Come down as soon as you are settled and we will eat.”

  “I’ll take you up to the loft,” Maria said. She grabbed Angelina’s bag, but Rico frowned and took the handle from her, then grabbed his own. Maria rolled her eyes. “Come on. You have a private entrance.”

  They followed her out the front door and around the side of the stone building. Small tables and chairs sat in a bright courtyard. Narrow steps lined with pots of colorful flowers rose to a bright blue door tucked into the eaves.

  Rico glanced around the courtyard, then stopped Maria before she started up the stairs. “The key?”

  Maria frowned, but handed over the key. He scanned the courtyard, the windows and doorways, whatever it was that he looked at when making certain they were safe.

  “Wait here,” he said, then climbed the stairs, unlocked the door and slowly pushed it open. Angelina suddenly wondered if he was wearing a gun. She hadn’t felt it while they were pressed up against each other or seen it beneath the light shirt he wore loose, but perhaps it was tucked into the back waistband of his jeans as she’d seen in the movies.

  “What is he doing?” Maria asked as they watched him duck inside.

  Angelina shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. She didn’t like the reminders that they were here for her safety, but perhaps it was better to be distracted from the attraction to Rico she could no longer ignore. “He works security. I guess it’s a habit to check everything out to make sure it’s safe.”

  “Of course, it’s safe.” Maria rolled her eyes. “Does he do that all the time? All that checking would drive me crazy.”

  “It makes me feel protected,” Angelina replied. And she realized it was true. If she had to be in this precarious situation, she was glad she had Rico with her. She knew he would do everything within his power to keep her safe. He could check all the doorways and alleys he wanted to.

  “It’s clear.” Rico came back down the stairs and grabbed the bags. He smiled at Angelina. “Come on up. I think you’ll like it.”

  Angelina followed Rico up the stairs. To the apartment they were going to share. Just the two of them. His jeans cupped his firm buttocks and when she realized she was staring at his behind, she dragged her eyes away and looked at the pots lining the steps. “These flowers are lovely,” she said.

  Maria was coming up behind them. “I’m glad you like them. Papa doesn’t understand, but Mama lets me indulge my love of color and decorating. Someday I’m going to be a famous designer or decorator.”

  “Wonderful,” Angelina replied vaguely, surprised by the fervent desire in Maria’s voice. Angelina had never thought of being anything but what she was born to do. Be a proper princess. Get married and have children. Shouldn’t she strive for more than that?

  There was a lovely landing at the top of the stairs, large enough to hold a small wrought iron table and two chairs. More flowers sat on the table and in the corners of the landing which was surrounded by an iron railing. She turned to enter the apartment and found Rico standing in the doorway. Blocking it. Taking up all the space. Taking up all the oxygen.

  Her legs trembled. Angelina should have known that knees growing weak at the sight of a handsome man was not more than just a tired cliché. It was all she could do not to sink onto one of the chairs in the corner. He silently swept his gaze over her.

  “What?” she asked. “Is something wrong?” She glanced over her shoulder, but only saw Maria standing there with a smile on her face, nothing threatening.

  “Nothing is wrong, amore.” Then Rico stepped forward and swept her up into his arms. She cried out in surprise and automatically threw her arms around his neck to steady herself.

  “Oh, this is too great,” Maria cried. “You’re carrying her over the threshold. Oh, I’m going to cry.”

  Again, Angelina felt shame for deceiving Rico’s family, but selfishly, her guilt was surpassed by the thrill of being in Rico’s strong arms. His large hands cupped her intimately and she melted against him. In two long strides, they were inside the bright apartment. She kissed his cheek and whispered, “And you said you weren’t romantic.”

  Maria followed them in. “It’s not a big apartment, but I have a feeling you two won’t mind the cozy space. This is the living room, of course, and you can see the dining space is right there. Kitchenette is there and is fully stocked. Papa put staples in the refrigerator but I know they’ll love for you to eat as many meals with us as possible. But don’t feel bad about telling them you want to be alone. They’ll understand.” She crossed the small room to the door at the other end. “The bedroom is through here. Do you want me to bring the bags into the bedroom for you?”

  “No,” Rico replied. “Thank you. I’ll take care of them. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I’d like to be alone with my bride now.”

  Maria giggled. “Of course. But don’t forget breakfast.” Then she was gone and Angelina was still up in Rico’s arms.

  “Are you going to put me down?” she asked softly, her head tilted back to look him in the eye.

  “Yes.” But he didn’t. He held her gaze and she trembled.

  “You’re a very good kisser,” she told him, then blushed. She’d been instructed to think before she spoke, but her training seemed to have gone out the window as far as Rico was concerned. Nerves made her blurt out whatever was on her mind, regardless of the implications. Perhaps his family was rubbing off on her already.

  “Really?” Amusement turned up the corner of his mouth and she wanted to press her lips there. So she did.

  “Yes. I imagine you’ve had lots of practice. Have you? Had lots of practice kissing women?”

  Rico cleared his throat and lowered her to the floor, guiding her feet to the shining hardwood. His large hands were warm on her body before he let her go. “I’ve had my share of kisses.”

  “I haven’t.” The admission slipped out softly. “I know I’m probably a lousy kisser.” Her gaze bounced around the room, but she was too distracted to really appreciate the exposed brick wall and rafters, the expanse of windows facing the street, the comfortable looking sofa. Still, she looked anywhere but at the sexy man beside her.

  He caught her chin and tipped her head until she looked at him. “Your Highness, that’s a ridiculous thing to say.”

  “You can’t call me that here,” she reminded him yet again.

  “It’s still ridiculous.”

  “But I do need more practice,” she told him. “Practice kissing.” In that moment she decided to say what had been building in the back of her mind since she first realized she could have been killed the previous night. “But I need practice with more than just kissing too, Rico. I want you to help me.”

  Chapter Four

  Practice? Help? Rico took a step back when all he wanted to do was come closer. “What are you saying, princess?”

  “Well, it was my first kiss. How can you expect it to be good? I need more practice.”

  First kiss? Merde.

  “I didn’t say it was bad.” There hadn’t been anything really wrong with the kiss. It had been endearingly clumsy. He’d thought she had been self-conscious because his family was watching. Evidently, Princess Angelina had been much more sheltered than he’d thought. King Alberto had been very protective of his only daughter, but Rico had no idea she was so inexperienced.

  “When we get back home, you can practice all you want,” he told her.

  She took a step closer, tipping her head back to look at him with a hopeful, vulnerable expression. “I want to practice with you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I do.” The princess stomped her foot. “You said it yourself. I could have been killed in that attack last night. What if I had been? I would have never known what it was like to have a real kiss. Never! And what if they followed us here? Or what if they find me later? I could die and never have even gone on a real date.”

  “You’ve never… I know you’ve gone to many banq
uets and balls and celebrations.”

  “And I got paired up with a guy like Phillip the duke with the wandering hands. Or Viktor with the creepy smile. I’ve never been asked out on a date. Never.”

  Rico didn’t know how to respond to that so he picked up the bags and carried them into the bedroom. The princess followed him into the small room. The outer wall was more exposed brick. No window to worry about. The bed took up most of the space.

  “My clothes will need to share space with yours in the wardrobe,” he said, trying to put some distance between them by speaking professionally. “But I will sleep on the sofa in the other room.”

  “I don’t want you to sleep out there,” she said, tilting her head in that way royalty must be taught from the cradle.

  “And where do you propose for me to sleep?”

  “In the bedroom, of course.”

  “You’re not sleeping on the sofa.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I’m sleeping here too.”

  Rico didn’t even recognize the choked sound that escaped his lips. “You want us to share a bed?”

  “You said you wouldn’t let me out of your sight.”

  “Your Highness, there is no outside access to this room. If anyone gained entrance to this apartment, they would have to go past me on the sofa. I won’t let anyone get that close.”

  “Rico.” She swallowed. “I could have been killed last night. I could have died and never known what it was like to make love.”

  Oh no. No. No. Rico backed up. “No, Your Highness.” She was a princess. He was one of the staff.

  “I want to know what it is like to make love, Rico. I want you to help me with that.”

  This was a nightmare. He was responsible for the princess’s safety. But just as important, he had a responsibility to his king, to the prince.

  And to himself.

  It was going to be difficult enough to spend so much time with the princess. To be staying in the same small apartment with her. That kiss had nearly killed him. Her reaction had been so sweet. There had been nothing artificial or practiced about it.