To Kiss a King

by Maureen Child

  “Garrett.” She reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

  He caught her hand in his and held on. His shadow-filled eyes locked with hers and flashed with steely determination. “Damn straight, it’s not.”

  Her hand trapped in his tight grip, she could only stare up at him. “Garrett, you’re even more crazed about protecting me than the palace guards. Why?”

  “Because I won’t fail again.”

  “Fail? Fail how?”

  He released her, turned and walked to the couch and looked down at the book, spine up on the cushions. He snorted. “Romance novel?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a happy ending,” she said.

  “Happy endings are fictional, Alex.”

  “They don’t have to be.”

  He turned back to face her. “You don’t get it.” A choked off laugh shot from his throat. “No reason why you should.”

  Alex was standing not two feet from him and yet she felt distance stretching out between them. The pale light of her reading lamp was a golden circle in the darkness, reaching for Garrett and not quite making it. Absently she noted the soft roar of the ocean, like an extra heartbeat in the room.

  “Then explain it to me, Garrett. Tell me what’s driving you.”

  He reached up, scraped both palms across his face and then shoved them through his hair. When he’d finished, he looked at her and his eyes were bleak, sending a thread of worry sliding through Alex’s body.

  When he spoke, his voice was rough and low, as if he regretted saying the words even before they were out of his mouth. “About ten years ago, I was hired to be a bodyguard for the daughter of a very wealthy man.”

  Alex held her breath and stayed perfectly still. Finally, she was going to get to the heart of the problem and she didn’t want to risk interrupting him. Yet at the same time, she couldn’t fight the notion that once he said what he had to, nothing would be the same. For either of them.

  “Her name was Kara.” A smile briefly twisted his mouth and was gone again in a blink. “She was beautiful and stubborn and smart. A lot like you, really.”

  A trickle of cold began to snake down her spine and still, she remained quiet.

  “I got…distracted,” he said and once again shoved a hand through his hair as if somehow he could wipe away the memories swarming in his mind. “I fell in love with her—”

  Pain was swift and sharp. Jealousy dug its talons into her heart and twisted. And just as quickly, it all faded away. He had loved, but it was ten years ago and obviously it hadn’t ended well. She forced herself to ask, “What happened?”

  “I quit my job,” he said, and swept the room with his troubled gaze before looking back at her. “Knew I couldn’t protect Kara with my focus splintered. Told her father I wouldn’t be responsible for her life anymore and I left. Two days later, Kara ditched her new guard and ran away. The letter she left behind said she was running to me. She never got there. She was kidnapped and killed.”

  “God, Garrett…”

  “I won’t let that happen to you.”

  Sympathy briefly warred with frustration inside her. Frustration won. “What makes you think it would? One tragedy doesn’t always signal another.”

  “I know. But even getting past that, it’s not just Kara. It’s you and me. We’re too different, Alex. Our worlds are light years apart.” He shook his head and she felt the finality of that one single action. His features were tight, implacable. His voice a promise as he added, “I’m not looking to fall in love, Alex. What would be the point?”

  Her heart gave a sudden lurch in her chest, and it felt as if a ball of lead had dropped into the pit of her stomach. He was walking away from her. Without even trying. Without a backward glance. Tears filled her eyes but she furiously blinked them back. She wasn’t about to let him see her cry. What would be the point anyway?

  Whatever she had convinced herself they shared, in reality, it was no more than a holiday fling. A summer romance doomed to die at the end of the season. She loved a man determined to not love her back, and there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to change it.

  And would she if she could?

  She had her pride after all. And that emotion was leading the charge when she snapped, “I never said anything about love, Garrett.”

  “Please.” He gave her a patient, tired smile that made her want to kick something. “I can see it in your face, feel it in your touch. Alex, you’re looking for something I can’t give you.”

  She felt the sting of those words, and actually swayed in place when they hit her. But she kept her chin lifted and her eyes defiant as she corrected, “Not can’t. Won’t.”

  “Same thing,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and glaring down at her.

  “For a man who prides himself on seeing every possible angle of every possible situation, you’re surprisingly blind.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It is,” she answered and took a step closer to him. Her gaze fixed with his. “This isn’t even about me, Garrett. It’s about you and how you look at your life. I’m sorry about Kara. But that wasn’t your fault. Bad things happen. You can’t stop them. You can only live your life in spite of them.”

  “She left her guards because of me,” he told her flatly. “If I hadn’t gotten involved with her, she’d be alive today.”

  “You don’t know that,” she told him and saw denial in his eyes. “You’re not God, Garrett. You don’t have the power of life and death, and you can’t personally protect everyone you care about.”

  “But I can limit those I care about,” he said softly.

  “So rather than love and risk the pain of losing it, you would make your own world smaller so maybe danger won’t notice you? Maybe your circle of loved ones will be tiny enough that nothing bad will touch you?”

  He didn’t say anything to that, but then, he didn’t have to. Alex knew now for certain that what they had was over. He could stay and watch over her as he’d said he would, but there would be no more lovemaking. No more flirtatious fun. No more laughter. There would be only Garrett, in his role of knight errant ready to do battle in defense of his charge.

  And that wasn’t enough for Alex. Not nearly enough.

  Sadly, she shook her head and said, “The difference between you and me is, I won’t deny myself something wonderful for fear of losing it.”

  “That’s because you’ve never lost.”

  “Wrong again,” she said, a half smile curving her mouth. “I just did.”

  “Alex—”

  “I think you should go,” she said, though the words tore at her.

  This was over. He couldn’t have made himself plainer. He didn’t want her—he saw her only as his responsibility—and she wanted the magic.

  The gulf lying between them was wider than ever.

  “Fine. I’ll go. But I’ll be back in the morning,” he said. “Don’t leave the hotel without me.”

  She didn’t answer because an order didn’t require one. She simply stood, alone in the dim light and listened to the door close behind him.

  First thing in the morning, though, the plan changed.

  Griffin needed some backup with a client and Garrett had already dumped so much of the company work on his twin lately, he couldn’t turn him down. Besides, he figured it might do both he and Alex some good to have some space.

  He’d been up half the night, reliving that scene in her penthouse suite. He could still feel the chill in the room when he told her he wouldn’t love her. Could still see her eyes when she told him to leave. A low, deep ache settled in his chest, but Garrett accepted it as the price he had to pay for screwing this up so badly.

  And he knew that the pain was going to be with him a long, damn time. He was halfway to San Diego when he thought it was late enough that he could call Alex without waking her up. Punching in the phone number, Garrett steered his car down the 405 freeway and waited for w
hat seemed forever for Alex to answer the damn phone. The moment she did, the sound of her voice sent another ping of regret shooting through him.

  Mentally, he explained it away. Of course he regretted that she’d be leaving. Why the hell wouldn’t he? He’d spent practically every day with her for more than a week. Why wouldn’t he be accustomed to her smile, her laughter? It was only natural that he’d listen for the sound of her accent and get a buzz when he knew he was going to see her.

  Didn’t mean he cared. Didn’t mean anything. When she was gone, things would settle down. Get back to normal, he assured himself. Which was all he wanted. The regular world that didn’t include runaway princesses.

  “Alex, it’s me,” he said shortly, changing lanes to pass an RV moving at a snail-like speed in the sun-washed morning.

  “What is it, Garrett?”

  Her voice was clipped now, as if anger was churning just below the surface. He hated to hear it, but it was probably best, he told himself. If she was mad, then she wasn’t hurting. He’d never meant to hurt her, God knew. But it had happened anyway and now the best thing he could do was keep up the wall he’d erected between them the night before.

  “I won’t be able to come over this morning,” he said tightly. “Griffin needs some help on a case, and I—”

  “No need to explain. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

  The words might be right, but her tone said differently. He scowled at the phone. “Yeah. Well, anyway. You won’t be alone. I sent one of our best agents over there. Terri Cooper. She’s in the lobby now, waiting for a call from you to the front desk. She’s the best in the business, so I know she’ll keep you safe.”

  “Garrett, I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “She’s a bodyguard, Alex, and until I get back, she’s sticking to you like glue.”

  “And I’ve no say in it.”

  He frowned to himself and downshifted as the flow of traffic picked up a bit. “If you don’t want to see Terri, don’t leave the hotel. I’d prefer that anyway. I should be able to be back before dinner.”

  “I see,” she said, her accent a little sharper, “and I’m to await you at your convenience, is that it?”

  He punched the accelerator and swung around another car, which had no business driving in the fast lane. “Alex, don’t start with me. We’ve been over this. You know it’s not safe.”

  “No, Garrett,” she argued, “you know it’s not safe. But I’ve a mind of my own and am in no way burdened with your overwhelmingly cautious nature.”

  “Damn it, Alex.” He thought about hitting the first off-ramp and heading back. Then he realized his twin was in La Jolla waiting for him, and Garrett was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

  And he did not have a cautious nature.

  Made him sound like some old lady afraid to leave her house. Nothing could be further from the truth. He faced down danger every damn day of his life. It was Alex facing danger he couldn’t bear the thought of.

  “I’m in charge of your safety.”

  “No, you’re not. You said yourself last night that you’re no longer working for my father. That makes you nothing more than a bossy ex-bed partner. And I don’t take orders from my exes.”

  “You’re making me crazy, Alex. Terri will be with you if you leave the hotel.”

  Someone cut him off and Garrett honked at them. Didn’t do any good, but made him feel a little better.

  “I won’t promise anything. And if that makes you crazy, then I’ll admit to enjoying your misery as a side benefit.”

  She was enjoying it, too. He heard it in her voice. God knew what she would do today just to prove to him that she could take care of herself. He didn’t even want to think about it.

  The stream of traffic was slowing down. Brake lights flashed ahead and cars were stacked up behind him, too. Just another day on Southern California’s freeways. Once he was stopped dead, he muttered, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just—be careful, okay?”

  There was a long pause and, for a moment, he half wondered if she’d hung up on him and he hadn’t noticed. Then finally, she said only, “Goodbye, Garrett.”

  Car horns blared, the radio in the car beside him was set to a volume probably audible in space and the only sound Garrett really noticed was the hum of the dial tone, telling him she was gone.

  “She’s making me nuts.”

  “In her defense,” Griffin said helpfully, “she didn’t have far to go.”

  “Thanks for that.” Garrett gave his twin a dark look. “You’re supposed to be on my side, remember? Blood thicker than water and all that?”

  “Yeah, we’re family, blah, blah,” Griffin said, kicking back in the leather booth seat and pausing long enough to take a long pull on his bottle of beer. “But if the princess is getting to you this badly, then I’m all for it.”

  Garrett stared down at his own beer and then lifted his gaze to look around the half-empty pub. It was supposed to look Irish, but Garrett had seen the real thing not long ago when he did a job for his cousin Jefferson. Still, it wasn’t bad, just touristy. Lots of dark wood, flags of Ireland all over the place and even a bronze leprechaun crouched on the bar.

  He and Griffin had finished with their client early and had stopped in here for some lunch before facing the long drive home again. He was still worried about Alex, but she’d been on her own for hours already, doing God knew what—because the damn woman wouldn’t answer her damn phone. All Terri sent him was a brief text saying everything was fine. So him taking a half hour for lunch wasn’t going to make that much difference at this point.

  “And did I mention,” Griffin said with a knowing leer, “you look like hell?”

  He had known that talking to Griffin about all of this wouldn’t get him any sympathy. And maybe he didn’t need any. What he needed was somebody to talk to.

  He should have picked someone smarter.

  “Doesn’t matter if she’s ‘getting’ to me or not—which she isn’t,” he added, after a pause for a sip of beer. “The point is she’s a princess, Griff. Would never work.”

  “Man, I really did get all the brains,” Griffin mused with a slow shake of his head. “The way you talk about her, she seems damn near perfect. And you don’t want her because she’s a princess? What is that?”

  “It’s not a question of want.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Even if I did admit to wanting Alex, the fact that she’s a princess pretty much cools that whole idea.”

  “Because…”

  Irritated, Garrett glared at his twin. “You think her family would want her with a security expert?”

  “Who better?”

  “Nice try. But royals prefer royals, and everyone knows that. Her father’s probably got her future husband all picked out for her.” The thought of that made him want to break something.

  “Uh-huh. And what else?” Griffin shook his head. “There’s more here, Garrett.”

  “Kara.” He’d loved once and lost her. He wasn’t sure he was willing to go through that again.

  “Here we go,” Griffin muttered. “You know, I’ve been hearing that excuse for years, and I’m just not buying it anymore.”

  “What the hell’s that mean?”

  “It means, that you’ve been hiding behind Kara. Yeah, it was terrible what happened to her. But you know damn well it wasn’t your fault.”

  Garrett shifted in his seat, took a swig of beer and set the bottle down again.

  “You loved her, and she died.”

  “Thanks for the news flash. But I don’t need you to tell me that. I lived it.”

  Griffin ignored him. Leaning on the tabletop, he said, “Somewhere along the way, though, you died, too. Or at least you stopped living, which amounts to the same thing.”

  Garrett glared at his twin again, but it didn’t do any good. Nothing could shut Griffin up if he had something to say and clearly he did. Seemed he’d been building up to this littl
e speech for years.

  “Now along comes the princess, shakes you up, makes you notice, hey, not a bad world out here, and boom.” He clapped both hands together for emphasis. “You shut down. Start pulling Kara out of the past and using her as a shield or some damn thing. The problem isn’t Kara, Garrett. Never was. The problem is you.”

  The waitress arrived with their lunch and while Griffin flirted and got an extra order of fries for his trouble, Garrett did some fast thinking. His twin might actually have a point. He had been enjoying his time with Alex. Had been relaxing the guard around his heart and the minute she got close, he’d pulled back. So was he using Kara as a shield? If that was true, then Alex had been right the night before when she’d accused him of making sure his world was small enough that tragedy would have a harder time striking.