by Gemma Hart
“He does have the best and most secluded home out of all of us,” Hawk said slowly, realizing the commander’s plan.
Prince Gregory looked a little concerned. “One man?” he asked skeptically. He looked me over carefully. “Granted, he is clearly a well trained and physically fit man,” he admitted. “But one man seems hardly enough protection for the future Queen of Loranza.”
“Prince Gregory, I assure you Bear is one of our most capable soldiers,” Commander Wolffe assured. “The most important thing we need to do right now is keep Princess Sofia hidden. You’ve managed to enter the country without attracting press or attention which is good. Now we need to make sure it stays that way. The best way to do that is have the princess blend in to the crowd. And having a dozen man protection detail is the worst way to do it.”
Prince Gregory still seemed a little skeptical but he nodded, trusting the commander.
“Wait, sir,” I started. I looked at the princess who sat in her seat, clearly just as dumbfounded as I had been.
Commander Wolffe looked at me sharply. “You don’t have a problem with this assignment, do you, Bear?”
I gave a quick look over at the princess. Lips just as pouty, her skin just as creamy, her legs long and lean, and her eyes, just as narrowed and haughty in their glare as I remembered them. Having this brat stay with me for, what was it? “An indeterminate amount of time”? Oh sure, no problem at all!
Yeah right.
“No, sir,” I said. It wasn’t Easy Team protocol to punk out on a mission because you got rejected by a girl and I certainly wasn’t about to set precedent.
I felt Hawk next to me shaking with stifled laughter, clearly remembering Colombia. I wanted to deck him.
“Good,” Commander Wolffe said, nodding in approval. “Then that’s settled. Princess Sofia will be in the care of Bear.”
I looked over at Sofia and caught her staring at me.
Though probably for different reasons, I knew we both wore the same expressions on our faces.
What. The. Fuck.
Chapter Three
Sofia
“Uncle,” I said, trying to plead one more time, “you can’t possibly negotiate a peace without me. They will demand that I be a part of any talks that take place.”
But Uncle Gregory shook his head. “Well then they will have to learn to work beyond that.” He squeezed my hands. “You are too valuable to risk right now. It is better you remain here, safely, until I can broker a more peaceful environment. Then you can join me.” He added the last bit to stop me before I could protest again.
“It’s too dangerous for you to go alone!” I cried. Uncle Gregory was the only family I had. He was the only one who had shown me true unconditional love and had stood by my side no matter what. I couldn’t bear the idea of him going into battle alone. His weary face was lined with such exhaustion, it made my heart ache.
“It is even more dangerous for you to come with,” Uncle Gregory countered.
He rose to his feet, causing everyone else to stand as well. “I will be in communication with you, Commander,” he said. “I will keep you updated on my situation so that you will know when to send the princess over.”
He shook hands with Commander Wolffe.
I looked up at my uncle, wounded. “Will you not communicate with me also?” I asked.
Uncle Gregory smiled tiredly. He touched my cheek gently. “I cannot,” he answered. “No matter how neutral France might say it is, there can always be political spies. My phone lines could be tapped. It’s better then that I don’t communicate with you directly.”
Tears suddenly gathered at my lashes. I had a horrible sinking feeling that this could possibly be the last time I see my beloved uncle. He was going off to fight a revolt and protest for a throne that wasn’t even his; it was mine.
Commander Wolffe reached out a hand and Uncle Gregory shook it. It was unusual to show too much public affection or emotion but I saw Uncle Gregory’s eyes waver before he said, “Please take good care of her. She is all I have.”
I nearly burst into tears at his words.
Commander Wolffe nodded. “We will do our best,” he said and led Uncle Gregory out.
I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.
Damn royal protocol to hell! Ignoring generations of tradition, I immediately hugged Uncle Gregory. I could tell by the way his body jerked, he was surprised by my hug. But he put his hands on my back, stroking me.
“Please be safe,” I murmured into his wrinkled shirtfront. “Please take care of yourself.”
Uncle Gregory kissed my forehead gently before untangling himself from my hold and following the commander out, leaving me behind for god knew how long.
For an awkward minute or two, I was left in the office with the two soldiers. I didn’t really remember one of them but I definitely remembered the taller of the two.
So he was called Bear?
That made sense. The man was massive. He probably easily topped 6’5 and looked to be built out of pure muscle. With dark closely cropped hair and an arresting pair of caramel colored eyes, the man looked like a modern day rugged Viking. And I remembered all too easily his breathtaking strength. He had picked me up like I had weighed nothing when he had carried me out of that bar in Colombia.
Just seeing him, my body shivered in reaction. There was a deep flame that burned hotter within me every time I was near him. When I had first caught sight of him in Colombia, he had literally taken my breath away. I had stood there, staring up at him like a moron.
And now, looking at him, I felt that same tingling heat within me again. It didn’t mean I had forgotten what an overbearing and bossy man he was. I still was positive that if he had just left well alone enough in Colombia, the evening wouldn’t have dissolved into such a mess that night.
But despite his bossiness, I couldn’t help but sneak glances at his square cut chin and his broad and muscled chest that I could clearly see even through his shirt.
I avoided Bear’s gaze but noticed that the other soldier was staring at me quite curiously. I made sure to smooth my expression into something neutral and unreadable.
Commander Wolffe came back in.
“Then, if you think this is the best plan, Hawk,” he said, making a gesture to the soldier, “I think we can call it a night. I’m sure everyone here is exhausted and in need of some rest.”
The soldier called Hawk (what funny names these Americans had) nodded. “Yes, sir. I think this is the best way forward. And I know Bear will do his absolute best in taking care of the princess,” he said, slapping Bear’s shoulder. Something about the way Hawk spoke made it sound as if he was teasing his friend.
“Don’t I get any say in the matter?” I said icily. I didn’t appreciate being spoken about as if I wasn’t in the room.
Commander Wolffe looked at me with dark sharp eyes that spoke of a man who was never taken in as a fool. “I’m sorry but in this matter, Your Majesty, we have more experience and expertise and think you should follow our advice.”
Well, I thought huffily, the man had enough tact to say ‘advice’ instead of ‘order.’ I’ll give him that.
“Bear,” Commander Wolffe said, “why don’t you take the princess back to your place? I’m sure she could use some sleep.”
Finally, we matched eyes, Bear and I.
Immediately a lightening bolt of heat zinged through me, making me jerk in surprise at its intensity and suddenness. By the jerk Bear made, I could tell he had just had the same experience.
It was like two live wires had touched, creating a massive spark.
I breathed out slowly, trying to steady myself.
Bear shook himself, trying to get a grip on himself. He made a gesture out of the office.
I followed, realizing that the seas would be far from smooth for me even out here in America.
***
I looked around the Spartan apartment. This is where he lived?
It hardly looked like anyone lived here.
The narrow front hallway opened up to a small living room where one couch sat with a bunch of nailed together crates that served as a coffee table. In the kitchen, the entire area was white and sterile with no signs of food or cooking utensils. Two cold metal barstools sat in front of the kitchen counter, serving as a dining nook that I was sure nobody ever used.
And down the hall, I saw a bedroom with the door slightly opened. There was simply a mattress that laid on the floor with no bedframe. The sheets, at least, looked clean and were folded quite neatly.
This was where I was expected to live for god knows how long?
Bear dropped off his gear by the front door and led me into the living room. He strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “I don’t have much food at the moment,” he said, head buried in the fridge. “I don’t normally stock up too much between missions. But I have some bread and cheese. I’ll make us some grilled cheese.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said automatically but Bear didn’t seem to hear. Instead he pulled out the ingredients and began assembling the sandwiches.
My stomach was in knots. Worries over Uncle Gregory’s safety clouded my mind. Protestors had literally been chanting for our heads. How could I possibly feel comfortable when Uncle Gregory was returning to such a vitriolic place? How could I possibly allow myself to be safe and hidden when he was in such danger?
I stood by the couch, slowly looking around. Although the place was depressingly bare, at least we were still in the heart of L.A. I was close enough to an international airport and major media in case I needed to run back to Loranza or make a public statement. Or both.
This maybe wasn’t such a bad place to hide.
I had no qualms about flying out on a moment’s notice if Uncle Gregory needed any kind of help. He was all I had in the world and I refused to lose him to someone as hateful as Minister Pryto.
Bear caught me looking around. “Don’t worry, you can take the bed,” he said, grilling up the sandwiches. “I’ll bunk on the couch.”
I stared at him curiously. “Is your name really Bear?” I asked.
Bear gave me the first grin of the night. “My name is Xander. Alexander Vaughn. But Bear is my call tag and everybody goes by call tags on Easy Team.”
Xander.
I liked the name.
Strong but unique. Just like the man.
“What about you, Sofia? Any nicknames you wanna share with the class?” he asked, his eyes twinkling in humor.
I stared at him, mouth agape. “You can call me either, Your Majesty, or, Your Highness,” I said stiffly. Nobody called me by my first name except Uncle Gregory and that was only in private.
Bear made a pitying hiss with his teeth. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, flipping a sandwich expertly in the pan. “Calling someone ‘Your Highness’ doesn’t exactly help that person blend in with the crowd.”
I sat on the couch with a big thump. I was starting to get a little dizzy. It was exhaustion. Just three days ago, I had been trapped inside the palace, mobs surrounding the gates, demanding me as prisoner. It had only been through Uncle Gregory’s clever determination that he had gotten me out and sneaked across the border. From there, it had been nonstop flying from Loranza to Greece to Spain to the UK to finally Los Angeles.
And in all that time, I couldn’t remember sleeping for more than two hours. Every stray glance or bright light made me jumpy and nervous. It was hard not to feel shaken when a whole mob of thousands call for your head.
“Food’s up!” Xander called from the kitchen. “Come on over.”
“I’m not hungry,” I repeated from the couch, my back to him. Whatever our start, it was time for Xander to learn just how I expected our relationship to go. He was an employee. He had been hired by us for a job. That was it. And that was the relationship we would maintain.
“Sof,” he said in that unnerving voice of familiarity, “you have three seconds to get your little ass over here for your dinner or I am coming over there and carrying you here.”
I whirled around, glaring at him in horror from the couch. “You wouldn’t dare!” I said. The nerve of touching royalty like that! But then I remembered how easily he had scooped me into his arms in Colombia and my cheeks flushed a little.
Xander quirked up a brow. “And that’s after I smack your ass for being such a brat,” he added.
My jaw dropped. No one had ever spoken to me that way.
I was a damn princess, after all!
But Xander’s face, though still holding a teasing glimmer, showed no signs of bluffing. He meant what he said.
“One,” he started.
I bit my lip. Give in now and that meant giving in to an employee. I’d lose any semblance of authority. That was Rulership 101.
“Two.”
I looked at him again. Big mistake. I could see a sudden flame burning in his caramel colored eyes. I could see him almost wanting me to stay till three so that he could come over and grab me.
And I found myself wondering if maybe I wanted to as well.
But when I saw him take a step out of the kitchen towards me, ready to come teach me a lesson, I found myself unable to stand the embarrassment of possibly getting spanked like a child.
I scrambled up from the couch and ran to the kitchen, plunking myself down on a cold barstool.
To my increasing annoyance, I heard Xander chuckle to himself at my reaction.
He slid a plate towards me with an expertly grilled sandwich.
“Eat up,” he said. “Eat and get some rest. We have an early flight tomorrow.”
I dropped the sandwich before I could even take a bite. I stared up at Xander in disbelief. “Flight?” I asked. “Flight to where?”
Xander raised a brow. “To Wyoming. My ranch is there. That’s where I live.”
“Wyoming!” I cried out in horror.
Suddenly it all made sense. When Commander Wolffe had commented that Bear woud be the perfect bodyguard because of where he lived, I had wondered what he had meant by that. And seeing his sparse L.A. apartment, I had still been confused.
But a ranch in Wyoming…that made a lot more sense.
It was remote. Isolated. Distant.
All the things I didn’t want! I wanted to be close to an international airport and possibly large media outlets. Neither of which Wyoming could offer me.
“I thought you lived here!” I said, gesturing to the apartment.
Xander took a large bite from his sandwich and shook his head. “No, this is just kind of a halfway house for me. After a mission, we always come back here to debrief with Commander Wolffe at headquarters. So I have this apartment here. I stay here for a day or two to catch up on some sleep before I head back to Wyoming.”
He watched me pick at my sandwich. “So eat,” he said again. “It’ll be something of a drive from the airport to the ranch.”
Oh god, how far into the American wilderness is he planning to tuck me away in? How could I possibly be any help to Uncle Gregory in a place like that? This definitely would not do.
“You don’t have an accent,” Xander observed, nearly finished with his sandwich. “Not much of one, anyway.”
“What?” I said distractedly, busy trying to think of plans to weasel my way out of going to some random country ranch.
“You don’t have much of an accent when you speak English,” he clarified.
Feeling exhausted and scared and annoyed, I fell back on my normal attack tactic—I snapped. “Of course I don't! I went to boarding school in Switzerland and university in England. I studied and spoke four language before I was sixteen. Why the hell would I have an accent?”
Xander raised a brow at my sudden outburst but kept his voice calm, not rising to my bait. “I just meant,” he said patiently in a voice that made me feel ridiculous and foolish for snapping, “it’ll be easier for you to blend out there because there’s no strong accent.”
That might be true but I had no intention of blending in wi
th some country town in the middle of nowhere. I was staying right here in L.A. I knew L.A. I was familiar with the city. I felt comfortable here. I felt some level of control.
And if there was anything I desperately wanted at this moment, it was some semblance of control.
“So eat,” Xander said again for the millionth time. I could tell by the way he said it tightly that he was getting annoyed with how many times he’d had to tell me to eat. Well, if that annoyed him, he’d be in for a surprise on just how annoying I could be. Thirteen years with a governess was ultimate training in annoying behavior.
But for now, I picked up the sandwich and took a bite. I’d have to spend the night cooking up a good plan to make sure I would be close at hand for Uncle Gregory.
Chapter Four
Xander
I nearly threw Sofia at the ticket counter. Raking my fingers through my hair and sighing in complete exasperation, I looked up in a harried way at the girl behind the ticket booth.
She gave us a small uncertain smile. I’m sure we made quite a pair.
Sofia, having no other clothes on her except the clothes she had landed in America with, was wrapped up in one of my old denim jackets. And I meant, wrapped.
She was small enough that I could easily wrap the sleeves around her, straightjacketing her. And after all the crazy annoying stunts she pulled this morning, that was exactly what I was doing with her.
“Checking in?” the ticket woman asked.
“Yes,” I said, keeping a good grip on the sleeves and ignoring Sofia’s death stares. “Under Vaughn.”
I slid over my driver’s license and the phony driver’s license for Sofia. I saw Sofia’s eyes widen when she saw the copy. Her forged papers had been dropped off this morning by courier. Easy Team had connections and we worked fast.
“Alrighty then. Welcome, Mr. Vaugh and Ms. Smith,” the woman smiled as she tapped rapidly on her keyboard.
Sofia rolled her eyes at the name and I gave the jacket a little jerk to remind her not to give her cover away. That only made her roll her eyes harder which made me want to throw her over my knee and give her a good ass whooping.
