Chapter Fifteen
THE JET WAS on final approach to Rubanestein’s one and only international airport when Theo’s phone buzzed.
He found the message as their plane taxied to the private aviation area.
It was a relief to have a diversion from the Princess’s latest outburst. ‘There’s a banquet at the palace tonight and I’ve been invited,’ Theo told the Princess.
‘Apparently the Prince is celebrating your return. It seems you’ve been missed. ’
‘Lovely,’ she said, her expression deadpan. ‘Just what I wanted, to have to endure another few hours in your presence.’
Theo was equally unimpressed. He’d expected to bring the Princess to the palace, collect a cheque, turn around and fly home.
But given the pilots and crew had earned a break after their arrival, Theo would be going nowhere.
Apparently, the Prince wanted to thank him personally.
It was a polite gesture. Very civilised.
What Theo wasn’t surprised about was the Princess’s response.
He’d expected her to be dismissive. She’d become more and more sullen the closer they got to Rubanestein.
Because of course, she hadn’t got her way.
She’d been delivered back to Rubanestein, to her own country.
To where her duty lay. But most of all, out of harm’s way.
What was her problem? She’d had her flings.
She’d had her freedom flight. Whatever grievances she had with her younger brother, why couldn’t she accept that her life should be one of duty in the country of her birth?
And he didn’t feel guilty in the least, because she’d deceived him.
If she had told him the truth from the start that she had been a virgin, he would never have touched her.
She knew that. Instead, she’d flaunted tales of her times with Luke and Mateo and hinted about others and made him believe that her innocence was no longer an issue.
She’d tricked him, tricked him into betraying his trust. Tricked him into betraying his duty of protection for her.
So he couldn’t blame her entirely for that, because she’d always been forbidden to him, virgin or no. He never should have touched her. And not just because she’d been forbidden. But damn, now he didn’t think he’d be able to get the taste and feel of her out of his head.
How did one erase one of the most sublime moments of your life? One of the most life-changing? She’d moved like liquid silk in his arms, so responsive to his every touch, so reactive to his seeking mouth and tongue.
Liquid silk.
Hot and fluid. She’d moved like a ballerina in the bed. Graceful and lithe, as she’d wrapped him in her limbs and welcomed him into her body.
And it had been wondrous. Magical. A revelation. Until he’d felt that unexpected resistance.
But by then it was too late and his next lunge swept away any and all hint of resistance.
Leading up to that, he’d heard her whimpers of need, he’d heard her jagged breathing, sounds that had fed into his own building need, but when he’d heard her cry out as he’d lunged into her, he’d realised what he’d done.
Fool.
He was supposed to be a rescuer. A protector. A bodyguard.
If there was a bodyguard how-to book, Rule Number One would have been, don’t fall for your rescue. Don’t engage in some kind of reverse Stockholm Syndrome, where you fell for the person that you were rescuing, no matter how attractive and sexually alluring and infuriating they were.
He’d broken the first rule in the book.
And broken it big time.
And the Princess was worried Theo would tell the Prince that he’d deflowered his sister? Not a chance.
The plane came to a halt. The door was opened, the steps lowered just as a cavalcade of dark-windowed SUVs drove alongside, a red carpet rolled out for them to disembark, before whisking them away to the palace, a fairy-tale castle atop the clifftop complete with towers topped with slated turrets and bearing the flags of the principality.
The Princess was shown to her wing of the palace while Theo was shown into a suite of rooms, in which he saw a king-sized bed laid out with a formal outfit he was apparently expected to wear tonight, along with an entire wardrobe from swimmers and gym wear to casual wear, everything he might need for his stay.
It seemed his every need had been anticipated.
It made a kind of sense, he thought, because none of the luggage he had brought contained anything formal enough for a banquet. It was a kind and thoughtful gesture.
He checked the labels. The sizes were spot on. Somebody had clearly done their homework.
He took advantage of the pool with a long swim.
With lap after lap he felt the tension easing from his muscles, his body releasing the tension that had been accumulating these last few days.
It was relief to be here and have the Princess safely returned to her country.
It would be more of a relief when he had departed, closed this case and moved on.
This dinner was an inconvenience, a timing issue, nothing more.
He refused to think about what had happened between him and the Princess—a mistake—but for now, it was good to know she was back where she belonged and the sooner he could get away, the better.
The sooner these unnerving feelings would disappear.
It was proximity making him feel this way.
He needed to be away. Divorced from the drama of a runaway royal and whatever angst she was feeling.
He was dressing for dinner when the report he’d been waiting for lobbed into his inbox—the deep dive into Prince Rafael’s gambling proclivities, if they indeed existed as the Princess claimed. Quickly he opened it, scanning the contents.
Interesting.
More than interesting.
Damning.
Because apparently the Prince was neither a fan of the horses nor one to frequent the casinos that graced Rubanestein’s shores, confirming what Theo already understood.
But there was shade, his researcher had found.
Something that Theo hadn’t known. Something that nobody had known.
Details were sketchy, disguised under layers of cybersecurity, but there were indications the Prince may have had a penchant for bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies and had taken to crypto gambling in an effort to try to leverage his gains.
A high-risk strategy where the chance of losses and accumulating debt was also high.
Gambling.
Theo thought about all the times the Princess had claimed that her brother had racked up gambling debts. Gambling with cryptocurrency on online unregulated casinos—there was a potential recipe for disaster.
And Theo’s spidey senses quivered on high alert.
Because, if the Princess hadn’t been lying about the gambling? What else might be true?
Theo was directed to his seat of honour, a seat next to a bejewelled throne where Prince Rafael would sit. On the other side of the empty seat, a wiry man sat down, grinning and bowing his head to Theo, introducing himself as Count Lorenzo di Stasio. Theo nodded and smiled in acknowledgement.
‘We are beholden to you for returning our Princess,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ Theo said. ‘But I was just doing my job.’
‘And you did it well.’
They were interrupted by the blare of trumpets as Prince Rafael stood at the door, in the uniform of Rubanestein, a gold sash over his chest, and a beautiful woman on his arm.
The Prince’s consort, Theo guessed, though he’d missed that detail in the dossier.
She was dressed in a strapless gown of pink lace, a long scarf of the same fabric wound around her neck, her blonde hair in an updo, curvy tendrils framing her face topped off with a diamond-encrusted tiara.
Everyone at the table stood as the couple came closer.
Wait? Blonde hair?
He looked closer. Her eyes were smoky with kohl, her lips were painted the same shade as her dress. But it was her. This was the Princess Isabella, in full royal regalia. He was so used to her dressed in beach wear, casual summery island wear that he almost hadn’t recognised her.
And Theo had to acknowledge, she was magnificent.
She hesitated as she regarded the room. Before she took a seat beside the man opposite who took her hand and kissed the back of it while the Prince moved to his place at the head of the table.
She looked up at Theo then, just a momentary glance—a glare—before she swallowed and then looked away.
And Theo’s spidey senses went into overdrive.
Everyone sat, and the Prince turned to Theo. ‘It is good to meet you at last, Theo Mylonakos. Do you find your accommodations comfortable?’ he quietly inquired.
‘Exceedingly so, Prince Rafael, I thank you for extending me your hospitality.’
‘What else could I do?’ he said, his arms raised either side, ‘But welcome the man who has brought my errant sister home. You have done our principality a great service.’
Then he turned to the room. ‘It is a beautiful day,’ he said, his voice booming in the vast banqueting room. ‘I have called this banquet in honour of my sister and our Princess Isabella being returned to us and our family reunited. It is a day for celebration. It is a day for celebrating family.
‘And I have to thank my firm friend, Theo Mylonakos, for making it possible. This man, above all odds, found our adventure-seeking princess and brought her home.’
Applause met his words, the guests universal in their nods and smiles and the enthusiasm of their applause.
Applause that didn’t sit well with him when Theo was in more doubt that he’d done the wrong thing, and he deserved censure rather than applause.
‘But right now, there is a feast to be enjoyed. Please,’ the Prince said, benevolently spreading his arms out wide. ‘Enjoy.’