Of course, he’d known them since they were kids. And God knew he wasn’t attracted to the king, or the other Alex. Of course, he wasn’t gay or bi. So why this one?
Because Nicole was different. She had royal blood in her veins but was raised by a commoner. The two of them against the world, no doubt. He doubted she had the slightest idea of the effect she had on men. Those magnetic blue eyes alone—
He felt a nibble, waited with the patience of a python, and then at a firmer bite set the hook and reeled it in, unhooked it, tossed it back into the river with a plop, and then baited his hook again.
“Plus you’re doing catch and release! You don’t even need me to clean them for you. There’s no reason for me to be here at all.”
“There’s every reason.”
“Oh, please, can we stop with the Obi-Wan speak? What’s your game plan, slick?”
“To charm you into coming back to the palace with me.”
“Ha!”
“Why not? You had to know this would happen when you wrote what you wrote.”
“When I wrote what I wrote?” She stopped pacing and stared down at him. “You didn’t read it?”
“Of course not. And I would never ask. It was the king’s personal correspondence.”
“Oh. Uh, I didn’t think about it that way. That you didn’t—sorry,” she said, looking like the apology tasted bad. Again, he had to force a cough. “Well, I wrote him who I was, reminded him about my mom, left my phone number, and that was about it.”
“Well, as I said, you had to know there would be consequences.”
“It’s not like I had a choice, did I?”
“Your mother’s dying wish?”
“Now how did you know that?”
“Edmund Dante guessed, and the king confirmed. Mr. Dante is the man who has been leaving messages for you. He pretty much runs the palace, and the royal family.”
“Swell. He tries to run me and I’ll break both his ankles.”
“Tough to do from a riverbank.”
“Oh no you don’t! I’m wise to you, Mr. Bodyguard.”
Oh no you aren’t, sweetie.
“I have another bite,” he said smugly.
“And I,” she announced, “have a migraine.”
Chapter 10
Well! She handled yesterday pretty well, considering.
Considering the fact that she wondered what he looked like with his shirt off.
No, she did not.
Oh yes, you did, liar. Can’t you be honest with yourself ever?
“Shut up,” she snapped at herself. She occasionally had entire conversations with herself. Most of the time she attempted to keep them inside her brain.
But! She had handled him just fine. Refused to head back to the, God forbid, Sitka Palace. Sent him on his merry way. Ignored Freeborg’s insistence she give him a blow-by-blow recap. Drove home. Had McNuggets. Didn’t think about him once.
Liar!
“Shut up!” she yowled, slamming on her brakes and wincing at what the spraying gravel was doing to her truck’s ruby red paint job. She shut it off, shoved the door open, fairly leaped to the ground, and then darted into the office.
And groaned.
“Nicole!” Freeborg yodeled when he saw her. “He’s back! And he brought—”
“I know who the crown prince is, Mike, Gawd.” She ignored Prince David Baranov’s outstretched hand and scowled. “Everybody who reads People or The Juneau Empire knows who he is. Got an overwhelming urge to fish, Prince David? Not enough protein up at the palace?”
“Actually, I need some food for my penguins, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“Well, don’t let the door hit you between the eyes on your way out.”
By reply, the prince turned to Jeffrey and said, “Uh-huh. I see what you mean.”
“Talk about me like I’m not here again and you’ll be a neutered crown prince. And then where would we be?”
“Nicole!” her boss screamed, horrified.
Prince David grinned and pointed a finger at her. “Jailable offense! Maybe a month or two behind bars will make the palace look like a better option.”
“Try it.”
“Uh, Your Highness, she tends to go about heavily armed.” Jeffrey was nervously eyeing her Windbreaker.
“What, ‘heavily’? It was a lousy .38.”
“Did you really get the drop on him? Dad said it, but it was still kind of hard to believe.” David jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Jeffrey. His eyes, the same shade as hers, twinkled at her. She wondered if he could make them do that on purpose. “He’s kind of got a reputation, y’know.”
“Uh—what’s going on?” her boss asked, the color leaking back into his face. He was glancing from her to the prince and back again. “Do you know His Highness?”
“No.”
“But I know her,” Prince David said cheerfully. “Only by reputation, of course. So, what is it? Why won’t you come back? Hate needles? Doctor-o-phobic?”
“Iatrophobia,” she corrected him. “And no.”
“Uh-huh. You know a word I’ve never heard before—and I’m a PhD,” he added modestly. “But noooo, you’re not scared.”
“Of course I’m scared. Do you have any idea how weird you all are? Your brother Nicholas was in all the papers—again—for pulling that prank that cost Prince Henry a broken ankle!”
David winced. “Don’t remind me. Dad took a ration of shit from the Queen of England for that one. Don’t sweat it, though. Nicky’s safely confined to the palace until his twenty-fifth birthday.”
“What a relief for the planet. And the Windsors.”
“Oh, like Henry wasn’t in on the whole—”
“Look, my mom asked me to do something. I did it. It’s done. We’re. All. Done. Now, buh-bye.”
“But you’re supposed to take me salmon fishing,” the prince whined.
“According to some, I’m supposed to do a lot of things.”
