The Bodyguard (Norcross Security #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

I can’t wait to wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze. To watch you struggle, and see the fear in your eyes.

With a sniff, Princess Sofia of Caldova crumpled the note in her hands.

Her stalker wasn’t particularly creative.

She leaned back in the plush seat of the private jet and threw the ball of paper like a mini basketball. It hit the rim of her empty water glass, bounced off the table, and rolled to the floor.

She looked out the window. San Francisco lay in the distance. They’d be landing soon. It had been a long flight from Caldova, with a stopover in New York to refuel. She’d be happy to get off the jet and stretch her legs.

She’d hoped to escape her stalker for the week and a half that she’d be in San Francisco. Unfortunately, the bastard had slipped a note into her bag. He was proving very industrious, and extremely annoying.

She rubbed her temple. She’d been born royal. She’d grown up in the spotlight and was used to people being interested in her life, talking about her, and prying into her private affairs. But her stalker was starting to give her the creeps.

Her parents were worried, so they’d saddled her with extra security for this trip. She eyed the two Palace security guards at the front of the jet. It was their job to deliver her to her new bodyguard—Rome Nash.

Sofia’s belly did a fluttering, sickening roll. Why, of all the men on the planet, did it have to be him?

Embarrassment filled her like hot, sticky goo. She’d first met Rome four months before, when he’d provided her security for a ball she’d attended in New York with her parents. He was former military, and worked for a private security firm in San Francisco.

The moment she’d first laid eyes on him, her body had malfunctioned. Even now, she remembered the hot ripple that had passed through her when he’d introduced himself.

She pressed her head back against the headrest. It took no effort to remember what he looked like, probably because she’d thought of him every day since. He was big. Tall, broad shoulders, long, powerful legs.

His dark hair was shaved close to his scalp, and his skin was a beautiful dark brown. Strong brows sat low over eyes that were a startling pale green.

He’d been with her the entire night, and when a crazed gunman had stormed the ballroom, Rome had carried her out, locked them in an office, and kept her safe.

Then she’d ruined it all by kissing him.

Embarrassment was a hot rope around her throat.

He hadn’t kissed her back.

Sofia closed her eyes. After that, the police had arrived and she’d been swept away by her father’s security team. She’d flown back to Caldova the next day. She remembered acutely the impassive, cool look on Rome’s handsome face when she’d kissed him.

Not a flicker of interest.

So, he wasn’t attracted to her. She got it. She wasn’t attracted to every handsome man she saw.

She swallowed a groan. She hated that she’d humiliated herself, and no doubt embarrassed him.

Well, she was a princess, and pretty used to dealing with uncomfortable situations. She’d survive spending almost two weeks with Rome. She just needed to be professional and polite.

Besides, she had a very important job to do in San Francisco. She wasn’t about to let anything, or anyone, distract her from it.

Her laptop resting on the table in front of her chimed. She opened it.

Her best friend’s face filled the screen.

“Caroline!”

Her friend smiled and waved. Caro’s golden hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and she looked tired. They’d met at university years ago, and after a spilled latte in the campus coffee shop, become fast friends.

“Sofie, you look wonderful,” Caro said.

“As do you.”

“Liar,” Caro replied with a laugh.

“Are my godsons asleep?” Sofie asked.

“You mean your god-monsters? Hans is getting them settled. No doubt they’re asking him to read story number ten.”

Caro had adorable, energetic, two-year-old sons. Sofie spent as much time with them as she could.

“I’d prefer to be with you.” Caro waved her hand in the air. “Wearing glamorous dresses, attending galas to celebrate exquisite jewelry collections, and having hot flings with sexy Americans.”

Rome’s rugged face filled Sofie’s mind before she squashed the image. She smiled. She’d give her favorite tiara to have Caro’s life. Hans was often away on business, but he loved his wife and sons. They had a gorgeous, sprawling home on the outskirts of the Caldovan capital.

And freedom. To be who they were, act as they pleased, and show their love.

Sofie shook off the burn in her stomach. She was healthy, wealthy, and privileged. She had nothing to be sad about.

She also had purpose.

Their other best friend from university, Victoria, had none of those options anymore.

Sofie’s jaw tightened. Three years ago, after a vicious robbery and attack, Victoria had committed suicide. In the blink of an eye, a bright, wonderful woman had been gone.

“You’re thinking of Tori.”

At Caro’s comment, Sofie blinked at the screen. Her friend was staring at her intently. Caro had always had the uncanny ability to read Sofie, even when she had on her best, expressionless, “princess” face.

“I miss her.”

“Me, too,” Caro said quietly.

Tori had been the outgoing, funny, life of the party in their trio.

Then, a gang of ruthless international thieves had targeted her. She was from a wealthy, aristocratic family, and Tori had owned an impressive collection of family jewels. The thieves had taken the gems, and two of them had brutally raped her.

Tori had been…shattered.

On top of that, her family had blamed her for the loss of the family heirlooms. Despite her boyfriend’s support, she’d sunk into a dark depression, and Caroline and Sofie hadn’t been able to pull her out of it. Several months after the attack, Tori had swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

“I wish…” Sofie wished a lot of things were different. Tori’s absence had left a gnawing ache in Sofie’s chest.

“I know,” Caro said. “But Sofie, to honor her, we have to live.”

Sofie nodded.

“I’m going to go hug my babies. And I want you to find a hot, American Hollywood star to have a fling with.”

Sofie laughed.

“You’re attending a star-studded gala, and of course, wearing some of my best jewelry designs. I’m sure you’ll find a square-jawed hunk to give you wonderful orgasms.”

Caro was a successful, highly-sought-after jewelry designer all across Europe. Sofie’s collection of jewelry was arriving separately under heavy guard.

“For a happily married woman, you sure have sex on the brain,” Sofie noted dryly.

“When was the last time you had sex?” Caro demanded.

“Quit obsessing over my sex life. You know it’s…difficult.”

She had constant security, and the eyes of the press on her. The last time she’d had a man in her bed was when she’d dated a German diplomat. Martin had been…handsome, with impeccable manners. And very boring in bed.

Before that was her almost-fiancé, Prince Not-So-Charming. The self-absorbed, spoiled ass had cheated on her. Multiple times.

“Darling, I have twin toddlers,” Caro said. “My sex life is nonexistent, so I’m hoping to live vicariously through yours.”

Sofie rolled her eyes.

“Have a good time, that’s all,” Caro continued. “You’re stalker-free for the next week and a half.”

Sofie wrinkled her nose. “He slipped a note into my things.”

Caro cursed.

“Don’t fret, my parents organized additional security.” Sofie wrinkled her nose again. “I’m picking up a big, stoic local bodyguard here in San Francisco.”

“Good.” Caro pressed her fingers to the screen. “Stay safe, look gorgeous, and have some hot sex.”

“Off you go, you sex fiend.”

Laughing, they ended the call.

The plane started descending and Sofie looked out the window. She had a perfect view of the city of San Francisco, the waters of the Bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge.

She had almost two weeks of interviews and photo shoots to help promote the Glittering Court: A Royal Jewelry Exhibition and Gala starting in just over a week. The exhibition would donate a large sum to her charity. She was also fitting in some work to support her charity.

In just a few moments, she’d have to put on her “princess” face. She’d smile, be polite, gracious.

The copilot appeared from the cockpit. “Your Highness, we’ll be landing momentarily.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

With a sigh, Sofie picked up the note she’d tossed on the floor earlier and stuck it in her bag. No doubt someone would want to see it.

She clicked her belt on, and focused herself to be ready for the onslaught. For the most part, she liked it. When little girls handed her flowers and asked about being a princess, it was fun. When she got the chance to talk about her charity and the work they did, she appreciated the attention.

But the paparazzi, hoping for topless shots of her, or catching her in a clinch, made her shudder. She sighed.

She had fairly thick skin. The tabloid stories could get pretty ridiculous. She was pretty sure that over the last year alone, she’d been secretly married to a sixty-eight-year-old Italian count, had a famous model’s love child, and had been in a secret conspiracy with aliens.

She leaned back in her seat. What no one knew was her real reason for being in San Francisco.

She’d gotten information that the same jewelry gang—known to Interpol as the Black Fox gang—responsible for stealing Victoria’s jewelry and raping her was planning to target the exhibition.

Or more specifically, they were planning to steal the Sapphire Wave Tiara. A long-lost tiara that had recently resurfaced, and had once belonged to the Romanovs of Russia. Sofie would be wearing it to the gala.

She tapped her nails on the armrests.

They wouldn’t get the tiara. She planned to stop them.

Along with some help from the international jewel thief known as Robin Hood.

She smiled.

So, she’d do her royal duties, and when required, slip out from under the watchful eye of Rome Nash to get her real objective achieved.