Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
James
The palace corridor stretched before me like a battlefield.
Roger Halliwell stood with his back to the wall, his perfect suit and perfect hair somehow making me detest him even more than I had during our previous encounters.
The smug American had been everything I'd predicted—overconfident and underqualified.
Dara hovered nearby, her expression a mixture of concern and irritation.
I could feel her disapproval radiating from across the room, probably wondering why I'd returned.
It had been only nine days since I'd left for London.
Nine fucking days since that night with Evangeline.
Nine bloody days that felt like nine years.
The memory of her skin against mine, the taste of her lips, the way she'd whispered my name—it had haunted me every moment, awake or asleep.
I'd tried drowning it in whiskey, burying it in work, but nothing helped.
So here I was, back in Bellavista against all better judgment.
I'd seen the news reports about Viktor Kozlov's body being found, about the marriage revelations, about the media circus surrounding Evangeline.
But it wasn't until Alexandra's death announcement, and my inability to reach Evangeline for hours, that every protective instinct overrode my determination to stay away.
This wasn't about professional duty anymore—it was about the woman who'd got under my skin so completely that nine days away felt like nine years in hell.
"Look, Banks, I don't see what the problem is," Roger said, his American accent grating on my nerves. "The princess is my responsibility now. I've got this. You can head back to London, back to your comfortable office job."
I kept my face expressionless, my breathing steady despite the rage boiling inside me. "I'm here to assess the current security situation given recent developments."
Roger laughed, the sound echoing off the ornate walls. "She doesn't know what she needs. That's why she has professionals like me." He adjusted his tie, a smug smile playing at his lips. "Besides, after what happened in Luxembourg, it's clear your protection wasn't cutting it."
The muscles in my jaw twitched. "Careful, Halliwell."
"James," Dara interjected, stepping between us. "Roger is her assigned security detail now. The palace selected him for a reason."
I turned to her, surprised by her tone. We'd always maintained a professional respect for each other. "Dara, you know as well as I do he doesn't have the experience for this assignment."
"What I know," she said, her voice strained with obvious conflict, "is that you left when your assignment ended, as planned.
But then you show up unannounced, and now there's violence in the palace corridors.
" She rubbed her temples, looking genuinely torn.
"James, I have always respected your work; however, I must adhere to protocols. "
Her words hit harder than I expected. She wasn't wrong—I had left when my assignment ended.
That had always been the plan. But when I'd seen the news coverage of Viktor Kozlov's death, followed by speculation about threats to the royal family, and then Alexandra's death announcement, I'd realised that Evangeline was in more danger than ever.
She needed proper protection, not some inexperienced American who saw her as a "job perk.
" My protective instincts had overridden everything else—she needed someone who actually knew how to keep her safe, and that someone was me.
Before I understood, I couldn't breathe properly without her near.
"You have a job in London," Dara continued, her voice softer but still firm. "An established security firm. The princess needs stability, James. Not someone who leaves when things get complicated."
The accusation stung because it contained a kernel of truth.
I had left when my assignment ended, as planned.
But then everything had gone to hell—Viktor's murder, Alexandra's death, the media frenzy.
And then—like a bloody fool—I'd realised that walking away from her had been the biggest mistake of my life.
Roger stepped forward, invading my space. "Face it, Banks. You're obsolete. You're an old school guard. The princess needs someone who understands modern security, someone who can adapt to her lifestyle."
"And you think that's you?" I asked, eyeing him with undisguised contempt.
"I know it's me." His smile widened. "She and I already have a rapport. She appreciates someone who doesn't hover like a storm cloud, someone who can actually smile once in a while."
A surge of jealousy ripped through me. Had they developed a friendship in my absence? Had she forgotten me so quickly? The thought of her laughing with this smug prick made my blood boil.
I took a measured breath. "You don't know the first thing about her."
Dara's radio crackled, and she stepped away to take the communication, leaving Roger and me momentarily alone in the corridor.
Roger leaned in closer, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper.
"I know enough. Read her file, took the time to study her patterns.
" His smile turned predatory. "Plus, she's not exactly hard on the eyes, right?
Makes this assignment a hell of a lot more pleasant than my last few.
Watching that body move is definitely a job perk I'm enjoying. "
Years of military discipline warred with the primal need to protect what was mine. The professional in me knew I should walk away. The man who'd held Evangeline through her nightmares couldn't let this slide.
Something inside me snapped.
My fist connected with his jaw before I'd even consciously moved. The crack of bone against bone was deeply satisfying, as was how he stumbled backward, his eyes wide with shock.
"You son of a bitch!" he shouted, his hand flying to his face. Blood trickled from his split lip.
Dara rushed forward. "James! What the hell are you doing?"
I stood my ground, my body coiled tight, ready for whatever came next. "He needs to learn some respect."
Roger lunged at me, but I sidestepped easily, using his momentum against him to send him crashing into a nearby table. A priceless vase wobbled precariously before Dara steadied it.
"Stop this immediately!" she commanded, her authoritative voice filling the corridor. "This is the royal palace, not some back-alley brawl."
Roger straightened, adjusting his now-rumpled suit. "He's unstable, Dara. Clearly unfit for duty. I want him out of the palace within the hour."
"You don't have that authority," I said evenly.
"Maybe not, but I do," Dara countered, her eyes flashing with anger. "James, I've respected you for years, but this is unacceptable. You've assaulted the princess's appointed security detail."
"He disrespected her," I growled.
"And you think she'd want you defending her honour with your fists?" Dara shook her head, disappointment evident in her expression. "You left, James. You made that choice. You don't get to dictate what happens now."
The truth of her words settled like a weight on my shoulders. I had left. I'd walked away. My assignment was over, because I thought it was the right thing to do. And now I was trying to muscle my way back in as if I had the right.
Roger smirked, sensing his advantage. "Listen to Dara, Banks. Your time here is done. The princess is moving on. We all are." His smirk broadened. "She seemed quite receptive when I suggested we might get to know each other better once she's settled back into palace life."
I lunged forward, grabbing him by his expensive shirt collar. "You stay the fuck away from her."
"Or what?" he taunted, his eyes flashing with challenge despite the blood on his face. "What are you gonna do, Banks? Hit me again and you'll be banned from the palace permanently."
I wanted to beat him senseless. I wanted to erase that smug expression from his face, to make him understand Evangeline wasn't just another assignment, another pretty face to ogle. She was—
What was she to me? My client? My princess? My one-night stand?
The woman I couldn't stop thinking about, couldn't stop wanting, couldn't stop needing?
"What's going on here?"
Evangeline's voice cut through the tension like a blade. She stood at the end of the corridor, her simple blue dress making her look regal and approachable. Her eyes travelled from Roger's bloodied lip to my fist still clutching his collar, understanding dawning in her expression.
God, she was beautiful. Even now, with disappointment clouding her features, she was the most stunning thing I'd ever seen. Nine days, and I'd forgotten how her mere presence could knock the air from my lungs.
"Your Highness," Roger began, immediately, adopting a deferential tone that made my stomach turn. "There's been a misunderstanding."
She ignored him, her gaze fixed on me. "James?"
My name on her lips sent a jolt through me. I released Roger, stepped back, and struggled to regain my composure.
"Mr. Banks was just leaving," Dara said firmly. "After an incident with Mr. Halliwell."
Evangeline stepped closer, her composure perfect even as her eyes flashed with determination. Her scent—vanilla and jasmine—hit me like a physical force. Nine days, and I'd forgotten how intoxicating it was to be near her.
"That won't be necessary. Mr. Banks isn't going anywhere."
The corridor fell silent. Dara looked as if someone had slapped her. "Your Highness, with all due respect—"
"Mr. Banks will be remaining as my primary security detail," Evangeline continued, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Dara, I'll need you to file the necessary paperwork to make this official. Mr. Halliwell's contract will be terminated effective immediately."
Dara looked uncomfortable. "Your Highness, I'll need to discuss this with the palace administrator and—"