Chapter 5
Chapter Five
James
Iwas forcing myself to stay quiet when she showed me around the penthouse.
Evangeline had the entire floor for herself with a huge terrace that overlooked the old city.
The expansive two-bedroom apartment featured floor-to-ceiling windows, minimal security features, and multiple access points.
I didn't know who signed off on her living here but it was a huge mistake.
It was a security nightmare, and I hoped that after the year was over she would either move or go back to Bellavista.
She led me down a short hallway lined with framed photos of animals—mostly horses and dogs—to my room.
It was a modest space with a queen bed, desk, and private bathroom.
The penthouse was smaller than I'd expected, and from very early on I understood we were going to be forced to be close to each other.
There was no way I could just avoid her like I was planning in the beginning.
My security assessment was grim. Decent protocols were present in the building, but they wouldn't stop a determined threat.
However, the emergency stairwell could be accessed with minimal effort, unlike the elevator that needed a key card.
Proper reinforcement was missing from the balcony doors.
Three large windows faced neighboring buildings—perfect vantage points for surveillance or worse.
I maintained my professional demeanor, but inwardly I was cataloging every vulnerability.
She looked tense when I gave her the list of my rules but that didn't change the fact that she had to follow the protocol.
The death threats were serious—the latest one had included details of her private schedule and a photo taken through a window.
Whoever was sending them had inside access or sophisticated surveillance capabilities.
I was planning to reach out to certain people to get me closer to the individual that was sending them out.
Later that evening Evangeline made dinner for herself. We still hadn't discussed how our daily routines were going to look like. I hoped that Dara would have filled me in but she said that I had to talk to Evangeline about it and so far we didn't have the opportunity to do it.
The bedroom felt too isolated from the main living areas for security purposes, so I decided to put my laptop on the kitchen countertop where I could monitor the apartment's entrances.
However, trying to concentrate on my tasks while she moved around, humming to herself as she cooked, proved more distracting than I'd anticipated.
I had never had any client like her, sure I had dealt with a few supermodels and other celebrities but I always stayed in the shadow.
Their houses were always huge and I had my own kitchen.
My focus kept slipping as she hummed some upbeat tune, adding ingredients to a pan with practiced ease. The domestic scene felt foreign to me. Most of my clients barely acknowledged my existence.
"Right, I think it's time for us to talk about my rules, Mr. Banks, since you're going to live here.
Am I safe to assume that we are going to eat together like a couple?
" She suddenly asked and I nearly choked on the water that I was drinking.
She looked beautiful wearing that white flowery dress and pink apron around her hips, so distractingly attractive that I felt my body responding against my will.
I started coughing for several long seconds while she stared at me.
Something smelled nice and I was hungry.
I had brought food in the car but the sandwich was very dry while the princess ate some sort of salad that looked like something she didn't enjoy eating.
She looked amused when I finally managed to stop the coughing fit and look at her properly. I was in trouble. She was standing there smiling from ear to ear, barefoot in that summer dress that didn't leave much to the imagination. I cleared my throat and then closed the laptop.
"I suppose we do have to have this conversation," I grumbled.
"You don't like talking much, Mr. Banks, right?" she asked, those blue eyes studying me with open curiosity.
"No, I don't want to waste my breath on anything unnecessary if I can help it," I replied. I kept my face expressionless, the way I always did.
"I see, well I talk a lot so you might have to get used to it for the time being," she said and quickly added, "I like to cook a lot, but sometimes I don't get a chance as this year is going to be very busy.
I only have one kitchen and as long as you're not fussy then I don't mind making a bigger portion. "
"Princess, I can take care of myself, I don't want to put you out," I said, slightly annoyed that she was so happy all of a sudden. The contrast to her earlier frostiness was jarring. I must have really pissed her off earlier, but at the same time I didn't know why this bothered me all of a sudden.
"That's complete nonsense, why would you put me out?
I enjoy cooking very much, so stop being so grumpy and come over here to try the stir fry that I prepared," she ordered, her tone firm.
She lost her smile and continued to stare at me, holding my gaze.
No one had ordered me around before, not even my mother, so this was a first. "Trust me, you don't want me in a bad mood, plus you have to call me Evangeline or Eva, so we are not so formal. "
Her directness caught me off guard. Most people found me intimidating, but she didn't seem fazed in the slightest.
I didn't know why I got up and went to her, but Evangeline was like a magnet.
I wanted to be near her, besides I was damn starving so I took the fork from her hand.
Our fingers brushed and a jolt of heat flooded my groin.
The food tasted good, amazing even if I had to be particular, and I wanted more.
"It's good, Evangeline," I told her, standing so close and feeling my body respond to her proximity.
Every instinct told me to back away, to maintain professional distance, but I remained rooted to the spot.
This was a bad idea, very bad idea, but I liked staring at her.
It seemed that whenever we were around each other the air was charged with electric current.
She beamed and then started serving both of us portions.
I followed her when she carried her plate to the table by the huge window from where we could see the old town.
We sat opposite each other and started to eat.
The woman could cook—the stir fry was perfectly seasoned with just the right amount of spice.
Against my better judgment, I was enjoying myself.
Although I didn't want to take advantage of this whole situation, I was happy if she fed me daily.
For a long moment we ate in silence while I thought about the ways I could make this penthouse more secure.
"Tell me more about yourself, James. If we are going to be so close to each other, it's better if we get to know each other better," she said, throwing me off my thoughts once again.
"That's not necessary, this is just a professional arrangement.
It's better if we keep things simple," I said, needing to put some distance between us.
Talking about my family or the army was something that I didn't do for various reasons.
When Evangeline's face fell slightly, I was suddenly very irritated with myself for being the cause of it, so I cleared my throat again.
"But if you must know, I have three brothers and they are all pretty well known in the UK. My oldest brother is the PM."
This time Evangeline dropped her fork as she stared at me with wide eyes.
"Are you serious?" She asked, pausing. "Are you really telling me that your brother is Spencer Banks? Oh my God, Banks of course, you have the same surname and you do look a little familiar."
"It's not a big deal, I'm the one that no one ever talks about so we are good," I grumbled and then went to the kitchen and got her a new fork. Spencer had always been the golden boy, the charismatic one. I preferred working from the shadows.
"I met him when he became the prime minister," she said as I handed her a clean fork.
Of course she did. She was a royal after all and Spencer travelled extensively.
He must have visited Belavista in the past. "It seems your good looks run in the family.
Wasn't he pronounced the hottest PM of the century or something like that? "
"So you think I'm good looking, huh?" I asked her, allowing myself a rare moment of playfulness.
I wondered briefly if I was jealous of my brother—a ridiculous thought.
She was my client, nothing more. Of course she must have found Spencer attractive, because all women thought that he was like Adonis, but that didn't change the fact that his personality left a lot to be desired.
She looked at me, parting her lips as a blush spread over her cheeks. I needed to regain control of this conversation and my own reactions.
"Well yes… I meant you're very handsome, but your brother is simply beautiful," she sighed and then went back to finishing her meal. I gripped my fork tighter. The sudden surge of jealousy surprised me—I'd never felt competitive with Spencer before.
"He's all show," I said quietly. "But he's good at what he does."
We didn't talk much after that and I had a feeling that she was embarrassed, so I offered to clean up and then finished my work for the evening. She retreated to her own bedroom while I tried to sleep, but I ended up tossing and turning for half of the night.
The next day, I was reviewing the background checks I'd run on Evangeline's friends when they arrived for lunch. I positioned myself at the kitchen counter where I could maintain a clear sightline to all entrances while appearing to work on my laptop.
Gabriela Cortez was the daughter of a Belavistan diplomat—low security risk but prone to gossip according to my files.
Octavia Reyes came from old money, had a history of reckless behavior, and her family had business dealings with a company suspected of corruption.
Both had known Evangeline since childhood.
"Are you telling me that he's your new bodyguard?
" Gabriela whispered as they all sat in the living room.
I didn't react. I was seated in the far corner of the kitchen, trying to create a schedule and still researching potential suspects.
I had run background checks on these girls the night before and cleared them as approved visitors.
Evangeline had provided me with a list of her close friends during our conversation about daily routines this morning.
From my position, I could see Evangeline nod, her expression a mix of resignation and amusement. She sat with perfect posture, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail—every inch the princess even in casual clothes.
The girls started giggling. I maintained my focus on the screen, pretending not to hear them. I hated that kind of attention and sometimes I wished that my father wasn't part Italian, because as my mother said, all four of us got good genes.
"He's huge and so good looking. I don't even know how you can actually live with him," Gabriela continued, her voice carrying despite her attempt at whispering.
"It has to be done, my mother wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, he's going to be with me for the next two months, that's all." Evangeline's voice was light but firm—the tone of someone used to managing difficult situations with grace.
I typed several names into the search engine, thinking that Octavia—not Gabriela—was crossing into a dangerous territory. With my trained ear, I could easily distinguish their voices. Octavia had been eyeing me up since they arrived.
"Then you won't mind if I try to flirt with him, maybe he can take me out once he's done with you," Octavia added, obviously speaking quietly but I could hear every word.
I didn't glance their way because I knew for sure that this would give me away.
I had no interest in Octavia's flirtations.
My focus was exclusively on keeping Evangeline safe—a task complicated by my unwanted attraction to her.
I glanced up briefly when Evangeline didn't immediately respond. She was looking directly at me, a calculating expression on her face that I couldn't quite read.
She shouldn't affect me the way she did, and yet there was something about her directness, her surprising strength of character, that I found compelling. I really needed to seek professional help.
"Aren't you seeing someone, Octavia?" She asked, with an edge in her voice. "I mean, sure you can try going out with him, but I doubt he's going to be interested. That man is a total grump that doesn't seem to like anything or anyone."
She spoke loudly enough that I knew she wanted me to hear what she said. I was almost amused because the princess had me figured out. She knew exactly what kind of person I was and she wasn't trying to sugarcoat it.
"Besides," Evangeline continued, her smile brightening the room, "if anyone's going to crack that stone face, it'll be me. I love a challenge."
I kept my expression neutral, but something shifted inside me. The princess was sunshine and determination packaged in royal grace—my complete opposite. And for the first time in years, I felt a crack forming in the walls I'd built around myself.
"Just watch," she told her friends with a confident toss of her head. "By the end of the month, I'll have him smiling."
I doubted that. But as she caught my eye across the room and gave me a challenging smirk, I realised that these few months ahead might be more dangerous than any battlefield I'd ever faced.