Chapter 20
R aphael
“Baby Gordonson is as stubborn as their ma,” my brother said down the phone.
A thud sounded, and I released a breath.
“Did Effie throw something at ye?”
“Good guess. Pregnancy hasn’t dented her aim.”
My smile flickered, and I stared out at the ferry boats cruising along the Thames from the bench I’d dropped onto at the end of my run. My brother chatted on, still with no news about the arrival of my niece or nephew but with plenty to say about where we lived and our friends.
I listened but couldn’t help the rising sense of danger whenever I thought about his baby arriving. It had taken a long time after relocating to Scotland for me to feel safe. To some extent, I did, but that sense of security flickered each time we had to encounter our father. He was still in California, still running his Mafia-linked empire. No matter what we had on him, I knew he wouldn’t give up wanting us to return. The minute he knew his first grandchild was born could be the moment he decided on a family reunion.
Mentioning this to Gabe was pointless. He knew my fears. He’d damn well counselled me about them more than once, and I wasn’t about to dent his joy. So instead, I kept my mouth shut and just listened.
I had to kill time anyway, nothing to do until this evening when I’d be back on duty. I’d tried to sleep in, failing in that, and spent the day working out.
Anything to stop myself from calling Alex.
Two kisses and I was a goner. After her scare, I’d nearly broken my neck to reach her, and ever since, my damn heart hadn’t calmed. I didn’t understand the overwhelming need I had for the lass, but I was certain I couldn’t protect her if I didn’t have my head on straight.
“By the way,” Gabe continued. “I saw Daisy at the hangar earlier, and she asked when you’d be back. Not sure why.”
I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Not sure myself. I’ll give her a call.”
If anything, I wanted to stay longer. The novelty of being in the city for a few days was fine, but I was over the traffic and the pollution. Over the multiple sources of danger for the woman I needed to protect. In a few days, that matter would be taken care of for me; her missing team member would reappear, and I would no longer be needed. I had half a mind to convince Riss to keep me on.
My phone beeped, and I pulled it from my ear to see the team leader calling.
“I’ve got another call coming in. Catch ye later,” I told my brother and switched to answer her.
Riss’s clipped tones had me sitting up taller.
“I read through your message about the incident at the palace last night. I’ve also spoken to the head of security and had a full debrief. But there’s one question I have still unanswered.”
I’d tried to speak to her this morning, but she’d been on another job. “Shoot.”
“Why were you there?”
“I wasn’t. I was talking to Alex when she heard something that made her think someone was near.”
A pause followed, and she made a sound of disbelief. “Alex? You mean Princess Alexandra. Why didn’t you contact me?”
“We’re friends. I was already?—”
“Friends? Since when? You’re required to disclose that.”
I heaved a breath. “We knew each other a long time ago. It wasn’t worth disclosing when I started as we weren’t speaking. We really only have been for a few days.”
“Right. In a matter of days you’ve moved on to late-night phone calls.”
Her disbelief played out loud and clear.
I scowled. “It’s the truth. Alex can tell ye the same.”
“Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandra,” she put emphasis on the title, “requires her team to be above reproach. I can’t have someone working for me who’s keeping secrets.”
“It isn’t a secret. I told ye I was there. Ye know everything that happened,” I argued, standing from the bench and the shelter of the riverside trees.
“I can’t trust that that’s true. I head up the team and am responsible for what goes on within it. Do you understand where that leaves me? I have no choice but to keep you on for this evening, but after that, you can consider your temporary position with us over.”
I swore under my breath. How the fuck could I argue the point when she was entirely correct? I’d kissed Alex, and that breached any protocol for a bodyguard. At the same point, I couldn’t regret it. Not when the memory was tattooed to the beat of my heart.
But fuck it. If I wasn’t guarding Alex anymore, that’s all our time together could be. A memory.
“I understand. But for the love of God?—”
The line went dead. She’d disconnected.
My stomach dropped. I’d meant to say to look for the mole in the team, but I’d already told her this. Tonight, I’d reiterate it, then I’d leave.
This time, it seemed, for good.
A lex: Tell me again why you’re worried that someone on my team is leaking my information.
She was one car ahead and dressed in an outfit that had me wanting to fall to my knees. I’d taken one look at her in her sleek dark-green dress and had to divert my gaze. Straight into finding Riss staring at me.
I’d never had a poker face.
Alone in the last car, I wrote a reply.
Raphael: There’s been too many times that the press knew your movements or other details that they shouldn’t have.
Alex: I really hate that.
Raphael: I’ll keep you safe tonight.
What I’d wanted to do was lay a trap, but with only one evening left with her, time was running out. My resolve returned.
Raphael: Do me a favour? At some point this evening, send a voice message when only Will can hear you. Say that this evening you’re going somewhere.
Alex: Ooh, espionage. I like it. Do I do the same with Johnnie but a different location?
Raphael: Genius woman. That’s exactly what I was going to say.
Alex: Crack spy team! This will be fun.
I wanted to suggest she give Riss a third location, but I could only watch one of the places, and Riss would want to accompany her, I was sure.
An incoming call lit my phone, Valentine’s name on the screen.
We had at least half an hour left of the journey, and the driver was on a call with headphones in, so I took it, unable to stop a grin.
“Your passport trace came in,” he said.
“Ye couldn’t just text me?”
“Been missing your voice, fly boy. We all are. Jackson is mooching about all lonely without a bad joke to be seen. Ben’s grouchy. The place isn’t the same. Anyhoo, the man in question. Want the details?”
“Hit me.”
“Your target flew into Milan two days ago. No onward trace discovered, but his passport was registered at a hotel in the city a couple of hours later. Who is he?”
Damn. She was on the money with her Italy guess. “A friend of Alex’s.”
“Alex as in the princess? You’re getting friendly.”
I answered without thinking, lost in the familiarity of my close-knit team that I trusted with almost every detail of my life, and the consideration of what I could do with this information. “Ye have no idea.”
Valentine made a sound of interest.
I sighed. “Forget I said anything.”
“Ye didn’t actually. I’m just inferring a whole lot.” Glee filled his voice. “Wait until I tell Mia. She adores the royal family. Give me something juicy. Any lip locking going on? Shenanigans in the throne room?”
“Hanging up on ye now.”
“Wait! At least tell me that ye call her ‘Your Majesty’ when ye?—”
I ended the call, my grin spreading.
A new message had come in from Alex while I was talking. My heart thumped as I read her words.
Alex: Thank you for caring. Not many do. Know what I dreamt about last night? Getting the hell out of this city with a certain pilot flying me away.
Raphael: Would if I could.
Wasn’t that a promise I wished I could keep?
T he venue for the evening was a concert hall, some annual charity gala named after a long-dead queen that the great and good attended en masse. I had less interest in the event and a whole lot more in the scale of it. A crowd had formed outside with photographers jostling for position, waiting presumably to spot celebrities who exited a line of cars to a riot of camera flashes.
Our convoy cruised into the queue. As planned, the bodyguard crew exited first to take positions, ready for Alex’s moment. My gut tightened with anticipation and adrenaline. Our actions were well rehearsed. We’d analysed the risks and planned well.
None of that eased my spike of intuition that something would go wrong.
Alex’s car reached the end of the red carpet, and the princess stepped out. Blinding white lights flickered, and she pasted on a natural smile, posing for a beat with us giving her space so the photographers could get their shots.
With a hand raised to shield my eyes, I scanned the surroundings, my heart thumping. All the fucking lights made it hard to see individuals in the crowd. Anyone could be there. Relief followed fast when Riss gave the signal to close in and get our principal inside.
We jogged up the steps with Alex in the centre of our huddle and entered the wide foyer through tight security, melting to the background while she was greeted by friends and acquaintances. I watched on as she air kissed women in expensive dresses and with what looked like priceless jewels at their throats. I heard her use titles instead of names, and I gritted my teeth when a man kept his hand on her shoulder for a minute too long, only remembering to breathe when Alex laughed with him and pressed up on her toes to whisper something in his ear.
In the centre of her group, she moved up through the theatre building to the box where she would watch the performance.
These were her people, I realised. The attendees were of the same social standing, with their wealth signalled in their fineries and their confidence. Alex had genuine smiles for many, making a point to linger and chat.
There was nothing of the scared girl who’d flown into my arms or the version of her that jumped in a lake. She was in work mode, and I couldn’t relate to her. At all. I couldn’t imagine being like Dori would’ve, in a tux at her side, only behind her, watching out for her.
Fuck. Why the hell had my mind gone there?
I needed to centre myself in my role. The concert began with a blare of live music, and all eyes faced forwards.
I tapped my earpiece. “Riss, permission to scope the crowd out front again.”
“Granted. Johnnie, go with him.”
Alex was safe enough here. I needed to make sure she stayed that way.
I descended the plush stairs, Johnnie a few steps behind. Outside, I prowled the crowd that lingered despite the doors being closed, and making a note of the photographers I recognised. None were Malcolm Dennis, the paparazzo who’d haunted Alex. He had to be here somewhere. There was no way a guy whose main deal was taking shots of beautiful young celebrities would miss an event of this size.
As I searched, my phone buzzed with a message from the princess.
Alex: I did it! Will is set up to think I’m going to a friend’s place.
Raphael: Good work. By the way, you were right about Dori. He’s in Milan.
She started typing but stopped, and no reply came through.
I continued my hunt. Johnnie stayed with me, going through the motions, though I was certain he did it without caring. Once we’d left the crowd to circle the building, he sparked up a cigarette and strolled the alleyway behind me.
“What peril are you expecting down here?” He breathed out a plume of smoke. “The stray cats in the bins looking at you wrong?”
“I’m doing my job.”
He released a laugh. “Not for much longer. You’re out of here after tonight. I heard Riss tell the big boss.”
Shame heated my cheeks. If Barrington knew, Ben probably would by now, too. I’d held out a small hope that I could persuade Riss to change her mind after the gala. But if she’d already set wheels in motion, I had no hope.
Johnnie took another drag of his cigarette. “I feel bad for you, kid. All this constant hassle about danger around every corner has to be exhausting.”
“Why wouldn’t ye worry? It’s what we’re paid to do.”
“You’re young. You’ve been doing this job all of five minutes. When you’re in my shoes, you’ll see how badly off your perspective is.”
“Is your age the reason you don’t give a fuck anymore?” I shouldn’t bite back, but the emotions of the night were already high, and he was pissing me off.
“If the first time you see a gun is at the airport on a lads’ holiday to Ibiza, then suddenly you think you can be a bodyguard, then yeah, I’ll call my age an advantage. Seen and done it all.”
Ah, fuck him. “At age seven, I could dismantle a revolver and put it back together with my eyes closed. I’d witnessed more bloodshed and threat before my tenth birthday than you’ve probably seen in your life. I know scare tactics. I learned them at the hands of men who would make the worst of us shake. Don’t think ye know me.”
His cigarette hung on his lips, my words making an impact I wished they hadn’t. I shouldn’t have shared shite, but it was out there now. Johnnie recovered fast and jabbed a finger in my direction.
“Whatever shady background you crawled out of hasn’t helped you understand how the game works. The public needs pictures of the princess. The royal family need them to be taken so they stay relevant and in the headlines. She’s good at that. All this danger you see is just people doing their jobs. Stop stressing about the photographers when actually, we want them around, and they aren’t about to hurt her. Do you get me? If you learn one thing from this job, let it be that.”
“What if you’re wrong?” I bit back.
Riss spoke over the comms. “The first interval is in ten. On our principal, please.”
Johnnie led the way, clearly glad to be going back inside. I followed more slowly, lingering on his words. His attitude was a danger in itself. His challenge about what Alex’s role was here didn’t resonate with how she saw it. The temporary nature, at least.
My train of thought was interrupted when I passed the theatre’s bar. There were few patrons inside, the performance still ongoing, and a group of waiters in black and red ferried trays in and out of the bar room.
One man had his head down, but the shape of him gave me pause. He was familiar.
At my back, a rush of noise came. I glanced around. The interval had started, and hundreds of people were on the move at once.
When I twisted back, the rogue waiter was gone.
Certainty rippled through me, and I was moving. It was Malcolm Dennis. Here, and in disguise. What the fuck was the man doing? He could have bought a ticket as a patron, like he had at the football match. Why would he need to pretend to serve drinks?
A number of reasons crammed into my brain, none of them good. Johnnie had said the paparazzi wouldn’t hurt Alex, but there were a hundred different ways they could.
I tore up the stairs, an influx of people coming the other way and blocking my path.
With urgency, I jabbed my earpiece. “Riss, keep eyes on Penny. Don’t let her accept a drink.”
Her voice returned, faint over the noise of the crowd. “Repeat that.”
“Don’t let Penny Allen drink anything.”
Her reply was lost in a wall of sound. Scrambling through, I made it to the first landing where queues for the bathrooms and for the concessions booth blocked flows of people going either way. Pushing my way through earned me scowls, but I didn’t stop. Not until I was on the next more narrow staircase that led through the creaking theatre to the royal box.
Bursting in, I found no one but Will. “Where is she?”
He tilted his head across to the box next to ours.
In the midst of her group of friends, Alex held a wine glass to her lips and took a sip.
“Stop,” I yelled.
The boxes were designed for exclusivity over security, with unobstructed views out across the theatre, and high above the rows of people in the stalls below. Leaving by the door and jogging down the hall to the next theatre box would take too long, so with no thought in my head but her, I stormed to the gilded ledge and climbed onto it, stepping over the gap to the opposite ledge.
Horrified stares followed my action, and someone shrieked.
Alex covered her mouth in shock. I jumped down and snatched the glass from her hand.
“Ye can’t drink this.”
Riss appeared at my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?”
I kept my gaze on Alex. “Who gave ye that drink?”
Her beautiful brown eyes widened. “A waiter appeared with it a second ago.”
“Red and black uniform, cap low over his face?”
“I think so? I wasn’t paying attention.”
I held it up. “Was that all ye drank? One sip?”
“Raphael, this is out of line,” Riss snapped.
At Alex’s small nod, I handed the glass to Riss. “Malcolm Dennis is disguised as a waiter. Call the police. That wine needs to be tested.”
Her mouth fell open. “Surely not.”
My last tether of patience strained to break. In the middle of a dangerous situation, I was yet again being denied. “Do I need to repeat myself or are ye going to take action at last? The photographer we talked about is here and pretending to be a waiter. Your principal is not safe.”
Her gaze darted to the door then to the worried faces of the dignitaries and others gathered around us who stared at my theatrics. I had no thought to spare for them.
Alex touched my arm. “What would he do to my drink?”
She believed me. Thank fuck for that. I wanted to pull her into my arms, but I couldn’t. “I don’t know. I only know that he’s here. Did ye even order that?”
“No. It just appeared.” She swallowed, and her gaze left me to find Riss. “I want to leave.”
“Ma’am, I really don’t think we should jump to conclusions on the hunch of Mr Gordonson?—”
Alex held up a hand, her lips in a firm line. “I do.”
My temper snapped. “Order the fucking cars.”
I was done with this. If I hadn’t been fired, this night would have been my last. I couldn’t stand by and watch as Alex was exposed to risk over and over again. It broke something inside me.
While Riss reluctantly organised our exit, a stony-faced Will and Johnnie fell in, and I kept at Alex’s side, fighting to hide what I was feeling. She’d turned ashen and kept tucked against me. When we hit the foyer and were about to descend the steps, I put space between us, mindful of the waiting cameras.
“Stay with me,” she whispered.
“Always.”
We jogged down the steps and dove into the waiting car. I slammed the door behind us, not waiting for Riss who could take a different ride.
Only when we were inside did a tiny fraction of my panic ease. I palmed Alex’s cheek. “Hospital?”
She took a shuddering breath. “I don’t think he’d poison me.”
I’d reached the same conclusion. Nothing made better and more sellable shots than a drunk princess causing a ruckus at a formal event, which indicated a party drug or something to lower her inhibitions. But it wasn’t my call to make.
I brushed her hair back. “Whatever ye want to do, I’m yours.”
Emotion passed over her face. “Take me home. I’ll decide when we’re there.”