Chapter 3
Chapter Three
James
Iwatched her stride confidently from the room and thought, What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I should never have agreed to this, but I covered for him since one of my best agents got injured. It was a mistake, yet I already felt responsible for her safety.
Why did I have to fucking say anything? I was usually better than that, always in check, always professional—until an hour ago when I called her self-centered. I exhaled, then Dara walked back into the room. She had this look on her face that told me this wouldn't work.
"James, before–"
"It's sorted. I'm staying whether or not Your Highness likes it.
I have reviewed her previous security. Cameron was good, but he missed a few things, and I'm going to find out who is sending her death threats," I cut Dara off, because we both knew this was the only solution.
She closed her mouth and stared at me with a worried expression.
"Cameron was Princess Evangeline's personal bodyguard, and I oversaw her security; therefore, you're essentially claiming that I didn't perform my duties adequately," she finally said, eyeing me intensely.
"Just hand over everything that you have, and I will look into it, Dara, after you show me to my new accommodation," I said quickly, hoping that she would drop the subject of who needed to be blamed for this oversight.
"Fine, but keep me informed. Queen Sophia wants a report as soon as possible," Dara muttered, and I decided not to respond.
It wasn't my nature to open my mouth to reassure people or make them feel better about themselves.
I didn't like talking too much; it was a waste of my breath.
"All right, Lily, I will show you to your room. I will send over everything shortly."
Lily was one of the female staff members who worked in the palace. Dara had already arranged for my luggage to be brought up during the meeting.
"The princess's room is on the second floor, correct?" I asked when Lily opened the door to a spacious room that looked out onto the gardens.
"Yes, upstairs on the second floor," she replied with a smile.
I looked around the room, immediately calculating distances and response times. Three floors separated me from my principal; multiple stairwells existed, and there were too many variables.
"This won't work," I said flatly, setting down my bag.
Lily's smile faltered. "I'm sorry, sir, but I've reserved those rooms for—"
"I don't care what they're reserved for. I can't protect her from three floors away." I was already calculating response times, escape routes, and vulnerable entry points. "Get Dara back here. Now."
"Sir, I can't just—"
"Then get me a palace phone. I'll call her myself." My voice carried the authority that made people move, and Lily practically fled.
Twenty minutes later, Dara appeared in my doorway, clearly irritated. "James, what is going on with these room changes?"
"From a security standpoint, the accommodations are terrible," I interrupted her. "I need to be on the same floor as the Princess, preferably in an adjacent room. Maximum response time should be thirty seconds, not three minutes."
"That's impossible. Those rooms house senior palace staff, and protocol—"
"Protocol didn't stop Cameron from compromising security, did it?" The words came out sharper than intended, but I didn't apologize. "Move someone. I don't care who. This is non-negotiable."
Dara's jaw tightened. "I'll see what I can do. But James, you can't just bulldoze through our systems—"
"Watch me." I turned away, dismissing her. I want a new room by tonight, a complete review of all security protocols by morning. If you can't handle that, get me someone who can."
The door slammed behind her. Good. Better she understood now that I wasn't here to play nice with palace politics.
Once Lily left, I pulled out the security files Dara had given me and spread them across the desk. It was time to see exactly what kind of mess Cameron had left behind.
I realised the death threats were more serious, as there had been twelve letters in the past six weeks, with each one being more specific. Someone knew Evangeline's schedule, her routines, her preferences. This showed that someone was organized and methodical, not random.
Cameron's security reports were superficial at best. They included basic perimeter checks and routine schedule adjustments, but no real threat assessment. They also did not investigate how the letter writer was getting information or analyze potential suspects.
Amateur hour.
I made notes in the margins, and I already see a dozen ways to tighten security. The Luxembourg trip would need a complete overhaul—alternative routes, different timing, additional personnel. If Evangeline thought she would maintain her usual level of independence, she was in for a rude awakening.
My phone rang, interrupting my analysis.
Technically, she was right. I should have apologized to her for judging her, and I didn't know why I hadn't. Maybe it was because something about her defiant spirit called to a part of me I'd buried long ago. How she'd stood her ground, unafraid—it was both infuriating and oddly interesting.
Fuck no, I didn't want to feel any attraction to Evangeline.
This was precisely the complication I couldn't afford.
I'd handled beautiful clients before—actresses, models, heiresses—without this gut-punch reaction.
But something about her defiance, the way she'd stood her ground in that barn, had gotten under my skin in a way that felt dangerous.
She wouldn't be my distraction, yet I couldn't stop thinking about her smart mouth and those defiant blue eyes.
I was probably on edge because I hadn't fucked any woman since the one in Vegas.
One-night stands and relationships were not something I did.
I just went without, thinking that having sex once in a blue moon would be enough—until I was face to face with Princess Evangeline.
I couldn't deny that she was beautiful, and I sensed she was strong-minded too.
This would complicate everything for me, because when she was standing so close to me, I felt an electric charge running through my body.
During my eight years in this business, I had handled attractive clients before, but this immediate physical response was unprecedented.
I was hard for her instantly, and that level of instant attraction had never happened in a professional setting.
I had many relationships before Iraq and plenty of sex, but I never thought that I was actually in love with any of them. I didn't know love was real, although my brother Spencer would argue.
Just last week, Spencer had made quite the spectacle when he went on national television, handcuffed his nanny to himself, and declared that he was in love with her.
Spencer had gone soft and lost his mind, but apparently this worked because after firing her, he got her back, and now they were engaged.
I still couldn't get my head around it, but whatever.
Spencer deserved to be happy for once, unlike my other brother Rupert, who was now calling me.
"Yes," I answered the phone, looking out at the garden. "I hope you're not calling me because you fucked up."
"You're an arsehole," Rupert groaned, and I smiled grimly to myself. "So how's the princess situation? You sound bloody thrilled about it."
"It's manageable," I lied, watching shadows move across the garden.
"Right. Because you're such a people person." Rupert's voice turned more serious. "Look, I need those CCTV reviews. Things are escalating here, and I need to know who's trying to fuck me over."
"I said I'd handle it."
"James." Rupert paused. "You sure you're alright taking this on? After everything with Iraq, being stuck playing babysitter to some entitled princess—"
"I'm fine." The words came out clipped, sharper than intended. "Send me the files. I'll review them tonight."
"Alright, but if this goes sideways—"
"It won't." I cut him off. "And Rupert? Don't mention Iraq again."
"Not yet. I thought you said this wasn't urgent?"
"It is now. I need to know who is trying to fuck me over; things are getting complicated here. You know I'm away to Sicily with Spencer, and I need to get this project straightened before my return," he explained.
Rupert had a property business that someone was actively trying to sabotage.
My family influenced London society—Spencer was the Prime Minister, Rupert was a billionaire through his property empire, and Andrew was a widely recognizable actor.
My father was half Italian, and we still had family there, so Rupert was traveling with his niece Maja and Spencer to the island when the summer started.
My security company had done well since I started it after leaving the military, but I still considered myself low-key.
I hated attention, which is why I chose my profession.
It was straightforward, and no one bothered me.
None of us were on social media, which made things easier.
We were all aware that Spencer and Andrew were always in the spotlight, so over the years, I became the family fixer—handling the press and managing any stories that appeared in the media.
I became good at it, but that drove me away from my goal, which slowly and steadily became unreachable.
"I promised you I will look into it over the next few days, Rupert," I said, wanting to get off the phone. It had been a long day since arriving in Bellavista, and I suddenly felt exhausted because I found the Princess attractive. This was going to be a problem in the long run.
"You know about my mystery girl from Greece, right? The one I fucked ten ways till Sunday?" he asked.
"Yes, Rupert, what about her?" I asked, although I was ready to hang up the phone. My youngest brother knew I hated wasting my breath on pointless conversations, yet he continued pushing me.