Chapter 26 #2
I glanced over at James, who appeared absorbed in his phone, though I knew he was scanning the café regularly, monitoring exits and entrances, assessing potential threats.
"It's complicated," I sighed, turning back to my friends. "After Alexandra's funeral, we agreed to keep things professional. And we were. Mostly. Until recently."
"Recently meaning...?" Octavia prompted.
"He pulled a fire alarm to get me out of a self-defense lesson with Frederick," I admitted.
Their reactions couldn't have been more different. Octavia burst out laughing, nearly spilling her coffee, while Gabriela's eyes widened in shock.
"He did what!" Gabriela hissed. "That's illegal! And dangerous!"
"It's also hot as hell," Octavia countered, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Mr. Stone-Cold-Professional lost it over another man touching you? I knew it!"
"It's not funny, Octavia," I said, though I couldn't quite suppress a smile at her enthusiasm. "He threatened Frederick. Graphically."
That sobered them both.
"Threatened how?" Gabriela asked, her voice dropping lower.
I glanced around to ensure no one was listening, then repeated James's words from the car. Both my friends stared at me, momentarily speechless.
"Wow," Octavia finally said. "That's... intense."
"That's terrifying," Gabriela corrected. "Eve, are you sure he's stable?"
"He wouldn't actually hurt Frederick," I said, though the absolute certainty in James's voice when he'd spoken those words made me wonder. "He was just jealous."
"Jealousy is sending nasty looks across the room," Octavia pointed out. "Threatening to dismember someone and deliver their hands in a box is something else entirely."
When It’s put that way, it did sound alarming. But I'd seen the control behind James's fury, the calculation behind his words. He wasn't unstable—he was protective. Possessive?, yes, but not dangerous. At least, not to me.
"It doesn't matter," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "The point is, I can't stop thinking about him. About us. About what happened in Luxembourg."
Both leaned forward at that. I hadn't told them all the details of that night—only that something had happened between James and I, and that we'd agreed to forget it afterward.
"Did you sleep with him?" Octavia asked bluntly.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks, answer enough without words.
"Oh my God, you did!" she squealed, then immediately lowered her voice when heads turned our way. "When? How was it? I need details!"
"After the kidnapping," I admitted. "And it was... intense. Perfect. Everything I'd imagined and more."
"And then what?" Gabriela asked, always focused on the pragmatic elements.
"And then he left. Went back to London the next day." The memory still stung, despite everything that had happened since. "When he came back, he said it was a mistake. That we needed to maintain professional boundaries."
"But he's still jealous enough to threaten mutilation if another man touches you," Octavia pointed out. "Sounds like those 'professional boundaries' aren't working out so well."
"That's the problem," I sighed. "One minute he's cold and distant, the next he's... not. And I don't know which is real—the professional who wants nothing to do with me, or the man who can't stand seeing me with someone else."
"They're both real," Gabriela said thoughtfully. "The question is which one he decides to be."
I toyed with my coffee cup, watching the design in the foam slowly disintegrate. "It doesn't even matter. In a few months, I'll be back in Belavista permanently. My mother's stepping down once I graduate. I'll be queen, Gabi. And James will be—"
"Your lover?" Octavia suggested with a raised eyebrow.
"My ex-bodyguard," I corrected. "Back in London, running his security firm, forgetting all about the princess he once protected."
Both my friends exchanged a look I couldn't quite interpret.
"What?" I asked.
"Eve," Gabriela began gently, "I've never seen you like this about anyone. Not even Pierre, and you were crazy about him."
"That was different," I protested. "I was younger then. It wasn't as—"
"Intense?" Octavia supplied. "Because that's the word you keep using when you talk about him. Intense."
She was right. Everything about James was intense—his focus, his control, his rare moments of vulnerability. Even his silences were intense.
"Have you thought about what you want?" Gabriela asked. "Not what's practical, or what's expected of you as future queen. What you, Evangeline the woman, actually want?"
I stared at her, caught off guard by the directness of the question. What did I want? The answer came immediately, with a clarity that was both liberating and terrifying.
"I want him," I said simply. "Not just physically. I want all of him—the professional and the possessive, the controlled and the passionate. Even the parts that scare me a little."
Saying it aloud felt like stepping off a cliff, exhilarating and frightening in equal measure.
"Then maybe you should tell him that," Octavia suggested. "Before you both drive yourselves crazy dancing around each other."
"It's not that simple," I sighed. "Alexandra's death changed everything. The timeline for my return to Bellavista, my coronation—it's all accelerated now. And my mother's health..."
I trailed off, the familiar weight of grief and worry settling over me again. In the chaos of recent events, I'd barely had time to properly process Alexandra's loss or what it meant for my future.
"How are you doing with all of that?" Gabriela asked softly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. "Really?"
The gentle concern in her voice nearly undid me. I blinked rapidly against sudden tears.
"I miss her," I admitted, my voice cracking slightly. "We weren't close like some sisters, but she was always there—steady, reliable. I keep expecting to get a text from her about some royal protocol I'm forgetting, or advice about how to handle the press."
"And your mom?" Octavia asked.
"The doctors still don't know exactly what's wrong. They're running tests, but..." I swallowed hard. "She's getting weaker. More confused sometimes. It's why she's stepping down after my graduation. She doesn't think she can continue ruling effectively."
"Which leaves you," Gabriela said, understanding in her eyes.
"Which leaves me," I echoed. "Future Queen Evangeline, who once dreamed of being a simple veterinarian."
"You'll still be a veterinarian," Octavia insisted. "Just one with a crown."
That startled a laugh from me, breaking the momentary heaviness. "I doubt I'll have much time for animal care once I'm coronated."
"We're getting off track," Octavia said, redirecting the conversation with characteristic bluntness. "The question is what you're going to do about Tall, Dark, and Homicidal over there." She nodded toward James, who was surreptitiously watching us while pretending to check his phone.
"Nothing," I said firmly. "At least not yet. We're both too volatile right now. And there's still the Sicily internship to consider."
"Ah yes, Sicily," Gabriela nodded. "Have you heard back from any of the practices?"
"All three, actually. They're interested, just waiting on final security arrangements." I didn't mention that those arrangements would be made by James, or that Sicily was where his family was from, where his grandfather still lived with a farm James loved.
"So you'll be spending three months in Sicily with Hot Bodyguard before returning to Bellavista to become queen," Octavia summarized, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Sounds like the perfect opportunity for a royal rendezvous."
"It's not like that," I protested, though the image her words conjured was tempting—James and me in Sicily, away from the pressures of palace life, free to explore what was between us before duty called me home. "He's not some vacation romance."
"No," Gabriela agreed, studying me thoughtfully. "He's not, is he? This is serious for you."
I nodded, unable to deny it. "More serious than I want it to be. More serious than it can be, given the circumstances."
"Circumstances change," Octavia shrugged. "Rules change. Traditions change. Especially when the person in charge wants them to."
"I won't even be in charge for months," I pointed out. "And by then, James will be long gone."
"Will he?" Gabriela asked, her gaze drifting to where James sat, his attention now fixed on a man who had entered the café and was scanning the room. "Because he doesn't look like a man planning to go anywhere."
I followed her gaze, watching as James's entire body tensed, ready for action.
The man he was watching approached the counter, ordered a coffee, and left.
Only then did James relax marginally, his eyes immediately seeking me out.
When our gazes met, something electric passed between us, even across the crowded café.
"I do not know what he's planning," I admitted, turning back to my friends.
"Or what I'm planning, for that matter. All I know is that when I'm with him, everything else—Alexandra's death, my mother's illness, the crown waiting for me—feels more manageable somehow. Like I'm not facing it all alone."
"Then maybe that's your answer," Gabriela said quietly. "Maybe it's not about what happens in the future, but what you need right now."
What I need now. The thought was revolutionary in its simplicity. All my life, I'd been trained to think of the future—of duty, of responsibility, of the greater good. What I needed in the present moment had always been secondary, if considered at all.
But what did I need now? Security, yes. Protection from the threats still looming over me, also yes.
But the connection. The Understanding. The fierce, unwavering support only offered by James, even manifested in ways that should frighten me.
The opposite happens; exhilaration, craving and possession present themselves instead.
As if sensing my thoughts, James stood, a subtle signal that it was time to leave. I nodded slightly to acknowledge him, then turned back to my friends.
"I should go," I said, reluctance clear in my voice. "Self-defense lessons at six tomorrow morning."
Octavia wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Self-defense lessons, huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
"Shut up," I laughed, punching her arm lightly. "It's just training."
"Training that involves his hands all over you," she pointed out with a smirk. "No wonder he didn't want Frederick doing it."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't quite suppress a smile at her teasing. "It's not like that. He's completely professional during lessons."
"That's what makes it hot," Octavia insisted. "The restraint. The control. Knowing he wants to touch you but won't let himself."
"Ignore her," Gabriela advised, shooting Octavia a quelling look. "Just be careful, Eve. With your heart and with your safety."
Suddenly grateful, I hugged them both in these normal moments. Wrapped up in an increasingly complicated shit-show of a life. "I will. I promise."
James's eyes followed me as I moved towards him. His look was cautious, possessive, and serious. One thing in his eyes never changed when he looked at me — intensity. His gaze was always intense.
"Ready?" he asked, voice neutral but his eyes burned with something far from professional.
"Yes," I replied, letting our gazes lock for a moment longer than necessary. "I'm ready."
And I was—not just to leave the café, but for whatever came next between us. For the first time, I allowed myself to acknowledge what I truly wanted: not just the safety James provided, but the man himself, complicated and dangerous and thoroughly essential to me now.
Sicily awaited us. Three months away from palace pressures and protocols. Three months to discover who we could be to each other, before duty reclaimed me.
Three months might not be enough. But it would have to do.