by Mia Carson
“Morning,” Daphne greeted him. All she received in return was a curt nod.
She pursed her lips. If he wanted to play the silent game, that was fine with her. She’d get him to talk to her eventually. But, as the day wore on and Matt remained her shadow, he refused to do anything more than nod or shake his head at her questions. Not once did he tell her they would be late when she purposely lagged behind or lecture her when she skipped lunch. He frowned, and his neck reddened, but he didn’t say a word.
Before she went to dinner, she dismissed him to find his own while she sat with Dion in a more private dining room. Her parents were eating with several business leaders and didn’t need Daphne at present.
“I will be in the kitchens,” he said and bowed his head.
Daphne frowned at the first words he’d said to her all day. “Of course, but I’m sure I’ll be fine without you.” She said the words more harshly than she’d meant to, but if it annoyed him, he didn’t show it. His body slipped out through the door as two servants brought in dinner for her and Dion.
“Not very talkative, is he?” Dion noted as he dug into his freshly caught swordfish. He cut into the thick meat and chewed it, but Daphne suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore and pushed her plate aside. With an eyebrow cocked, he asked, “Since when do you turn down swordfish?”
“Not as hungry as I thought,” she excused and sipped her sweet white wine instead. “So, what is it you wanted to discuss?”
“Business, I’m afraid. I’m already having trouble bringing my ships into the harbor.”
“Since when? No new laws have been issued in years,” she said, confused. “Who’s giving you trouble?”
“Harbor master. And the royal marine guard,” he quipped. “Bloody nosy is all they are. I don’t know why they don’t just look at the manifests. All my paperwork is in order every time, and still they make it a pain to run my business.”
“Troubles of being an importer and exporter,” she insisted. “Nothing more.”
Dion set his fork and knife down hard enough to clang against the plate. Jeremiah, the guard left behind to cover while Matt ate, shifted on his feet, but Daphne shook her head. Her cousin, like his mother, could be overdramatic at times. Tonight, it appeared, was going to be one of those times.
He swirled the wine around his glass, sniffed it contemptuously, and sighed after he took a long sip. “You always did like the sweetest wine.”
“If you don’t like it, don’t drink it,” she muttered.
“That would be impolite, and I would never dream of being rude to my princess.”
His tone changed, and her grip on her glass tightened. That same tone had come out of his mother’s mouth the night before. “Dion, what else is on your mind? And please be candid. I am your cousin, after all. We’re family.”
“Are we? Doesn’t feel like it these days. I hardly see you outside of formal occasions anymore.”
“I’ve been busy with the education reforms, amongst other things. You know this,” she assured him even though it was a lie. She avoided him when she could because she didn’t want to hear any more about Agnes or the issues at the docks.
He sipped the wine again, and she lifted her brow at his grimace. “Of course, those damn reforms of yours. You do realize what it’ll cost if you go through with it? Raising taxes never makes the people happy.”
“It will if it gives their children a chance for better futures,” she argued. “It might not make you happy, but you are only one man. Sometimes, you have to think of others first.”
“You learned that from your mother.”
Daphne gulped the rest of her wine before she answered. “I learned many things about being a good ruler to our people. Perhaps you should do the same. Though you will not have a throne soon, you are still looked up to in this kingdom. I expect you to act like it.”
“Be an example and willingly let you overtax me?”
She flattened her palms on the table and stared at him sadly. “Once upon a time, you didn’t care that you would never have the throne. You said you would always support me like a sister, be the sibling I needed since I lost Marietta. What happened, Dion?”
He slammed back the rest of his wine, cringing at its taste, and sulked in his chair. “I’ve realized you might not be the ideal ruler for our people.”
Jeremiah moved forward immediately, but Daphne held up her hand to stop him. He stayed by her side as she straightened and shook her head. “I’m sorry to hear that, but there’s nothing you can do about it.” Slowly she stood, tossing her napkin on the table.
She stepped quickly to the door, telling Jeremiah she was ready to turn in for the night, when Dion mumbled something under his breath. Jeremiah paused beside her, but she motioned to continue, unwilling to dignify Dion’s words with a reaction. She had hoped, when she took the throne, Agnes and Dion would support her—or at least Dion. But after all this time, it seemed his mother had finally dug her claws in too deep. Dion was no longer a friend. He was a threat to everything Daphne was meant to inherit.
You should let him have the throne if he wants it so badly, a voice whispered in her mind. Too bad he would be a terrible ruler.
Agnes would rule if Dion were on the throne. If Daphne wanted to keep her aunt away from the throne, she had no choice but to take over for her parents and accept her fate.
***
Matt finished his dinner and re-buttoned his suit jacket when Jeremiah strolled in and told him he was good for the night. “Princess Daphne is safely to her rooms.”
“And how was her dinner with Dion?” Theodore asked, seated at the table and perusing the day’s paper. “Did it go well this time?”
“Worse actually,” Jeremiah muttered. “One of these days, I’m going to smack the smirk off that guy’s face. Or deck him. Maybe both.”
Matt frowned, sitting back down when Jeremiah offered him a beer. “Isn’t he her cousin?”
“He is, the smug bastard. Thinks he’s untouchable because of it,” Jeremiah snapped.
“He’s also in line for the throne if, for some reason, Daphne can’t take it,” Theodore informed Matt. “He used to not care, but Agnes—now that woman’s a piece of work. She’s been dying to find a way to weasel her way back into the palace, and she seems to think her son will get her there.”
Matt frowned, sipping his beer and listening as the two men continued to rant about Agnes, but he was more interested in Dion. Yesterday, when he saw how Dion looked at Daphne, he’d thought the look was for something else, but if he sought the throne, he was an instant threat. He would have to find out more about Dion and what harm he could potentially cause Daphne.
“I hear there’s been more troubles at the docks, too,” Jeremiah said. “Anything show up in the paper about it?”
“Nah, they won’t report that. Agnes sees to it.”
“What’s at the docks?” Matt asked. He had nothing else to do for the night and decided he might as well learn what he could.
“Dion’s mother and he are the main exporter and importer of goods to and from the island,” Theodore explained, folding up the paper and setting it aside. “He’s in charge of all the workings down there—controls the trade, so to speak. Agnes’s parents began the business before she married into the royal family.”
“But there are rumors he’s been doing more than that,” Jeremiah chimed in.
“Yeah, much more, but there’s never any proof. And now, he’s suddenly interested in the throne?”
Matt agreed it didn’t look good for Dion. He mulled over what he’d heard others say of Daphne, knowing it wasn’t good but wanted to know what they thought. “Do the people like Princess Daphne?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “They do. She’s always polite, but that’s all they know of her. They believe she’s a shut-in and possibly unfit to rule.”
“How did that rumor start?”
“After her older sister Marietta died in a boating accident, Daphne has not stepped foot from
the palace grounds,” Theodore said sadly. “Orders of the king and queen.”
“Not once?”
“Nope,” Jeremiah affirmed. “Since she was six, she has been behind these palace walls, which is why the festivals are held either within the courtyard or just beyond the gate so she can see them.”
“That will change once she’s queen, won’t it?”
“For her sake, I hope so, but that might not be for years,” Theodore said.
He knew she’d been protected all her life, but not to this extreme. He’d seen so much of the world before he left the military, was exposed to different cultures and different people, but Daphne… she only knew the inside of the palace. The fake smiles and laughter, could it stem from that?
He finished his beer and excused himself from the kitchen. His room was in the lower level in a hall with the rest of the bodyguards for the household. It was a simple room, but he didn’t need much space to sleep in and dress. He didn’t have any hobbies, not anymore. Nothing excited him after all he’d seen and done. He glanced at his hands. They were shaking already and he hadn’t even lain down to sleep yet.
After he kicked off his boots and stripped down to his boxers, Matt stalked around his room as was his nightly routine when he was alone. Pacing was one of the only things that steadied his breathing and his mind before he slept, though it never lasted through the night. After laying down, his eyes slid closed, and he waited for the usual images to fill his mind. Instead, Daphne’s face appeared in his mind, and his eyes shot open as he sat up in the bed.
All those nights he spent in the arms of women he didn’t care about, trying to fill the void inside him, had failed, yet simply thinking of Daphne’s sweet face helped him breathe more easily. She was younger than the women he usually involved himself with, but she was different. She sure as hell didn’t act like a twenty-one-year-old.
Course not, because she’s a queen in the making and off-limits.
But those eyes flitted before him, and the way she tugged on her earlobe when she was irritated. Matt plopped down on his bed and buried his face in the pillow. His hand crept up under it to ensure the gun was tucked safely in its place, then he closed his eyes, dreaming of the one damn woman on this island he couldn’t have. Every doubt about this job becoming complicated hit him hard, and he realized kissing her yesterday was his worst mistake.
Chapter 5
Daphne had barely drunk half a cup of coffee the next morning when the doors to her rooms were thrown open. She caught a glimpse of Matt through them, but he vanished as her mom swept inside.
“Morning, Daphne, sweetie,” she said brightly and kissed her cheek.
“Mother, you’re awfully cheery this morning,” Daphne pointed out. “Coffee?”
“No, darling, and you shouldn’t be drinking so much caffeine. Not good for you,” she mused and took a seat opposite her daughter at the table.
Daphne picked up her coffee and sipped it, smirking as her mother clicked her tongue. “What do you need, Mother?”
“Your father and I want to know how the new bodyguard is working out. Do you like him or do we need to find a replacement?”
“Replacement?”
After yesterday, she wondered if Matt was a good fit as her bodyguard. He clearly regretted kissing her. He scarcely spoke a word to her, and those heated gazes she wanted so badly remained absent from his eyes.
“Daphne, dear. You’re doing it again,” Alexandria said and smacked her daughter’s hand gently.
Letting her hand fall, Daphne forced an apologetic smile on her face and tried to look ashamed at the action her mom abhorred. Alexandria asked again about Matt, and Daphne answered without even thinking.
“No, he’s working out quite well. He takes his duties very seriously,” she informed her. “I have no worries about Matt.”
“Good. Ambrose and your father will be happy to hear it. I was skeptical at first because of his background being strictly military, but if you’re happy, I will be, too.”
“Was that all you came by to ask?”
“Your dinner with Dion,” Alexandria said slowly. “I trust that went well.”
Daphne wasn’t sure how much her mom knew of Agnes’s recent threats concerning the throne, and she had enough to worry about already. “As well as can be expected. He’s worried about the education reforms.”
“Good, then, as long as there was nothing else on his mind.”
“No, nothing,” she lied and buried her face in her coffee mug.
Alexandria plucked an olive from the bowl and chewed it slowly. “I wanted to let you know as well that your father and I will be taking a trip inland in two days.”
“Where are you going? Can I come?” She hated how desperate she sounded, but Daphne jumped at any chance, no matter how slim, of getting off this island.
“Afraid not, darling. It’s only for a day trip, really. We’re trying to negotiate new border agreements with Greece,” she said. “It will be a terribly dull day, and you are busy enough taking care of things here.”
Busy enough researching Matthias, she thought absently. “Will you be staying overnight?” she asked, hoping she didn’t seem overzealous.
“Yes, two nights. Very brief.”
Two nights might be all she needed—a chance to have the palace to herself and find out more about her new bodyguard. Marie hadn’t managed to snag his file yet, but said she would have a chance soon. One of the guards owed her a favor, and when Daphne pressed her about it, Marie’s face blushed and said that was a story for another day.
Her mom stayed and chatted for another hour before she was summoned away to meet Calix on the grounds. She kissed her daughter’s cheeks and left the room gracefully. Daphne glanced at the spread of food before her—muffins and scones—but nothing sounded good. There were too many other things on her mind. She finished her coffee and braced herself for a day of ignoring Matt, something she never did to any of the working people in the palace. If he could give her the cold shoulder, so could she. Today, Matt would see a side of her she never wanted anyone to see. Though she was still curious to learn about Matt, that didn’t mean she had to play nice.
Serves him right. Let’s see how he likes it, she thought and walked to the doors, ready to start another long day.
***
By evening, Matt’s jaw ached from clenching it so hard throughout the day, though he wasn’t sure what he’d expected. He’d spent the day before avoiding her gaze and ignoring the brushes against his sides, trying to put distance between them. Today, Daphne returned the favor tenfold. There had been no “good morning” and not even a friendly smile nor attempt to catch his attention. She wore a shirt with a high collar and pants, covering as much skin as possible.
Even when she turned in for the night and he let his hand brush against hers, her whole body stiffened, and she moved quickly into her rooms, slamming the door in his face.
“Damn woman,” he growled through his teeth and stormed down the hall.
He had done it for her own good. He told himself over and over it was a good thing she ignored him. The distance would make it easier on both of them and keep them from doing something they’d regret. That was what he told himself, but damned if he believed it.
Matt skipped dinner, not hungry at all, and went straight to his room to crash. He begged sleep to come fast as he tossed and turned on his bed with her face hovering around him, his hands gripping the sheets, though he imagined they were her breasts—those lush breasts that fit so perfectly in his palms. He grew hard thinking of what else he wanted to touch on Daphne’s body, what he would do to her until she cried out his name.
The dream intensified, and suddenly, he wasn’t in a bed with Daphne moaning beneath him. He stood on a rooftop, rifle in hand, as he stared out over the open, deserted streets. The sky cracked open and rain poured from it, drenching him. Somewhere, a man called out his name, but the rain was too heavy. Matt couldn’t find him.
He screame
d until his throat was raw, but still there was nothing to tell him which way to go. A gunshot echoed painfully in his ears, and when he glanced down, blood drenched his hands—
Matt shot upright on the bed, cringing as the last images of the all too familiar nightmare faded into the dark corners of his room. His heart thundered beneath his bare chest, and he punched the bed hard, struggling to find some semblance of control again. There was little chance he’d fall asleep again, so he tugged on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt before he padded out of his room and down the hall. The door to the surveillance room was open, so he walked in and found Jeremiah, his feet propped up on the control panel, watching the multiple security feeds.
“Evening, Matt,” he said through a yawn. “You’re not on the rotation tonight.”
“No, couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Anything exciting?”
“Never is. Hey, since you’re here, mind watching for a minute? Need to take a leak. Too much coffee,” he muttered, glancing down into his empty mug.
Matt told him to go and took over the chair as Jeremiah hurried from the room. His eyes scanned one monitor after the other—views of the halls and main rooms of the palace—and then the courtyards. He leaned back in the chair, waiting for his mind to relax, when he saw something moving in the east courtyard. He looked closer, using the controls to zoom in, and cursed.
“What are you up to, princess?”
Daphne crept along the wall of the palace until she reached a trellis and began to climb. Matt’s eyes narrowed, watching her climb it like a damn monkey until she disappeared out of the camera’s sight. He checked the others, but she didn’t appear again.
The second Jeremiah returned, he faked a yawn and said he was headed back to bed, but at the end of the hall, he turned and rushed to the east courtyard so he could figure out what the hell she was doing. He found the trellis covered in vines and bright purple flowers, then glanced around for the security camera. He shifted it away just enough so his climb wouldn’t be seen. He wrapped his hands into the vines and climbed up.
