A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance) (6 page)

“Yes, that’s the one,” Daphne told her and waited for the run of questions bound to come out of her mouth. “Get the file for me, and I promise I will tell you what’s going on.”

“Alright, but if I get caught, you’re going to have to explain to Ambrose that it was all you.”

Daphne hugged her tightly. “I know, don’t worry. Ambrose likes me, remember?”

“Until you decide to go off the rails, my lady.”

“What do you mean? I just want to get to know my bodyguard,” she said innocently as she stepped back. “That’s not going off the rails, is it?”

Marie shrugged. “Maybe not, but that look in your eyes says you’re up to something—and that smile. I haven’t seen you actually smile in months. Whatever happened, you should do it again,” she added with a wink. “I’ll see about getting the file as soon as I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll owe you.”

“Answers about what you’re up to will be enough,” Marie called over her shoulder and curtsied as she left Daphne alone.

Marie’s words stuck with her, though, as she changed into her black nightgown and slipped under the covers. Had it really been so long since she’d smiled? Really smiled? The days flew by because she was so busy with the reforms and her parents handing over more responsibilities to her, but she had nothing to be upset about. She should be happy, thrilled to be ready to take the throne. Yet part of her still wanted nothing to do with it—any of it.

All her life, she’d been taught this was her sole duty. Become the next ruler of Apostolos and lead it into the next age. But she was exhausted, worn out from trying to be the perfect princess to make up for the loss of Marietta. Soon she would have to play the perfect queen. Every month, she met with dignitaries and ambassadors from all over the world, but all she could think of when she spoke with them was how envious she was of their ability to travel. To see the world, not to be stuck in one place.

She knew the purpose of keeping her here was to keep her safe, as her parents told her again and again, but Matt had made a good point earlier when he’d lost his temper. Daphne was naïve in anything not having to do with politics and her kingdom. And she especially lacked any knowledge of men.

When she lay in the dark, his hands seemed to stretch through the night to caress her body and his lips closed around hers. Her thighs pressed together to ease the throbbing there, but the movement only made it worse. Matt had attempted to scare her, but all he did was show her what she was missing.

Tomorrow, she would find a way to show him that, despite how wrong it could be, he was missing out on her, too.

***

Daphne was up and showered before Marie came in her room the next morning with her breakfast tray and a fresh carafe of steaming coffee. As she’d expected, Matt followed Marie in, but his gaze stayed on the distant wall.

“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.