Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“G et back!” Rome roared.
He shoved people out of his path. He had to get to Sofia.
Some assholes were still taking pictures. Rome pushed through. The princess had her arms around the two little girls, shielding them from the man with the knife.
The man slashed out, and Sofia shoved the girls back.
With a growl, Rome lunged. He rammed his arm down, hitting the man’s forearm. There was a sharp crack, and the man let out a high-pitched yelp. The knife hit the ground.
Rome kicked the blade away, grabbed the man, and shoved him facedown on the tarmac. “Move and I’ll break your neck.”
The man went still.
Security guards rushed in, some controlling the crowd, while two sprinted toward Rome.
“Secure him and call the police,” Rome ordered, spinning back to Sofia.
She was trying to console the crying girls. Her pink-gold hair had tumbled free, spilling around her shoulders.
“It’s okay now. You’re safe.”
Not worried about her own safety. Two frightened women ran to the little girls.
“Thank you,” one cried. “My baby.”
As the mothers grabbed their daughters. Rome moved to Sofia, he saw her face was pale, her breathing fast. Not stopping to think, he scooped her into his arms. He pulled her tight against his chest and felt her burrow into him, one arm sliding across his shoulders.
He heard her quick, shaky intakes of breath.
He jerked his head at the other guards. The men fell in behind him, blocking them off from the crowd.
Ahead, a limousine was waiting, the driver watching with a shocked expression. A worried assistant stood beside him, wringing her hands.
“Meet us at the house,” Rome barked.
He bypassed the limo and strode to the black Norcross Security BMW X6 he’d driven.
He maneuvered her so he could open the back door of the SUV.
Sofia shook her head. “I want to sit in the front.”
Her face was sheet-white, but she met his gaze. She was getting herself together.
Made of sterner stuff than he’d guessed.
“I hate sitting alone in the back like a self-important idiot,” she said.
He nodded and circled the car. He put her in the passenger seat before heading for the driver’s seat.
Once in, he gunned the engine and pulled out. He drove out of the airport, and once they were heading north to the city, he glanced her way.
Her hands were twisted in her lap. Her hair was falling in waves of pink-gold around her shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, thanks to you.” She dragged in a deep breath. “I’ve grown up with this, and sometimes I forget the insanity of obsession.” Her voice lowered. “They don’t see me as a living, breathing person.”
“Hey.” He reached out and grabbed her hand.
He immediately regretted it.
She sucked in a sharp breath, and her fingers squeezed his. Rome felt a jolt through his body. Sofia must have felt it too, because she froze.
At least she had some color back in her cheeks now.
“I’m going to keep you safe, Princess. I promise.”
She swallowed, then let his hand go. “Thank you, Mr. Nash.”
“Rome. It’ll be a long, few days if you keep calling me Mr. Nash.”
She hesitated. “Rome.”
She rolled it around, saying it with her slight accent. He liked hearing her use it.
Shit . His hands flexed on the wheel.
There was a smudge of red on his hand. He looked down at his shirt and saw a bigger smear. Every muscle in his body stretched tight.
“Princess, I have blood on me, and I’m not cut.”
A shaky breath. “I think it’s just a nick.”
Rome cursed. She was hurt . Bleeding.
He yanked the wheel and took an exit. He sped down several streets before pulling off to park on a residential street lined with neat houses. He scanned around. At this time of day, it was quiet.
He climbed out, circled the SUV, and yanked open her door. His heart was hammering in his chest.
“Rome, really, it can wait until—”
He saw the blood stain on her dress, like an ugly flower. “Let me see.”
“Um—”
He pressed a finger to her chin and tilted her face up. “Let me take care of you.”
Sofia bit her lip and nodded. She waved at her side.
Rome pushed her coat open. He saw the slash in her dress on her right side. He probed it gently, even though his damn pulse was pounding hard.
“I can’t see well enough.” Shit . He eyed her dress. He didn’t have a better option. He grabbed the hem and started pushing it up.
She sucked in a breath. “What are you doing? You can’t—”
“I need to check how deep it is. I’m not letting you bleed out because you’re shy.”
Sofia looked out the windshield. “Fine.”
He dragged the fabric up, revealing slim, toned legs. Heat ignited in his gut. Shit . He struggled to get a lock on it.
Asshole. She’s hurt. Next, tiny panties the same blue shade as her dress made his breath catch in his throat. He moved on. Then, he finally had her hip uncovered.
The cut wasn’t bad. Air whistled through his teeth. He carefully touched it and watched the muscles in her belly clench. Such delicious golden skin under her clothes. “Cut isn’t bad. Won’t need stiches.”
“See, I told you.”
“Here.” He opened the glove box and pulled out a small first aid kit. He pulled out some gauze and pressed it to her side. “Hold that. When we get to the house, we’ll need to clean it. No telling what germs were on that guy’s knife.”
She shuddered and pulled her dress back down.
Carefully, he pulled her belt back on.
Brown eyes met his. “Thanks, Rome.”
He wanted to cup her cheek, but he made himself step back and nod. As he headed back to the driver’s seat, he paused for a second to pull in some steadying breaths.
She was okay. And his unruly cock was going to have to learn that the princess was way out of his league, and way off-limits.
* * *
Sofie watched the buildings of San Francisco stream past. She was still a little shaky, but already felt better.
She’d be fine . The cut didn’t need stitches.
She’d learned very young to dust herself off and get on with things, thanks to her mother.
Princess Emily was the most practical woman in the world, and Sofie adored her.
And her father, Prince Nicholas, was a very proper prince, who’d taught her to focus on what she could control.
She glanced over at Rome.
His delicious cologne filled the vehicle. It had a woody undertone, with a hint of something that made her think of incense. She drank in his strong profile, and watched as he held the wheel in an easy, firm grip.
There was something sexy about watching a man drive with obvious skill.
She felt a lick of desire.
God, the man had just seen her underwear.
Sofie quickly looked away. It wasn’t done to be attracted to one’s bodyguard, not at all.
It definitely wasn’t done to outrageously lust after the gorgeous man who’d scooped her up like she weighed nothing, and held her against his strong, hard body. A man who’d protected her.
She mentally rolled her eyes. He was just doing his job, Sofie. And remember the last time you gave into this attraction.
Shaking it off, she dragged in a breath. She didn’t let too many people close. Rome Nash didn’t know her, and she wouldn’t get the chance to know him well. Her stomach clenched.
Finally, she spotted the familiar rotunda of the Palace of Fine Arts ahead. It was one of her favorite places to visit in the city.
Rome pulled the vehicle to a stop, and she looked up at the Marina-style house. She’d combed through rental listings and selected this one to be her home-away-from-home for her trip.
She loved it. It was painted a pale gray, with lots of windows and Art Deco-like curves. She threw open the car door.
Rome joined her, lifting a hand to acknowledge several security guards near the house. He slipped his keys into his pocket, then slid an arm around her. “How’s your side?”
“It’s okay. Stings a little, but it’s tolerable.”
His scowl deepened. “We’ll take care of it inside. The team from Norcross came earlier. They’ve upgraded the security system, and I’ve planned out schedules for the exterior guards, who’ll patrol the grounds.”
She walked toward the door, trying to hide her grimace. Walking actually hurt a bit. “You sound unhappy, Rome.” She raised a brow. “Or do you always sound like that?”
He grunted. “I figured you’d be staying at a hotel, or a fancy penthouse.”
“Ah. Somewhere easy for you to secure.” She shrugged. “I like a place to feel like home.”
Suddenly, he stepped close and lifted her into his arms.
“I can walk!”
“I can see it hurts.” He opened the front door and strode in.
The man was way too observant. She felt a little spike of worry. How hard would it be to slip out when she needed to?
The house was gorgeous. The floors were a warm wood that instantly felt homey and welcoming. Out the main windows, there was a perfect view of the Palace of Fine Arts rotunda. She felt like she could open the window and touch it.
He carried her straight into a stylishly decorated guest bedroom and set her on the bed. “I’ll grab a first aid kit. You strip.”
Sofie jolted. “Strip?”
He strode to the closet and pulled out a fluffy robe. “This will have to do until the limo arrives with your luggage. I’ll be right back.”
Well . Sofie straightened and winced. She quickly slipped her coat and dress off. She thumbed the slash in the dress before tossing it over a chair. She’d just wrapped herself in the robe when Rome reappeared.
Sofie’s pulse did a crazy dance. He took up so much space, and somehow, that made her excruciatingly conscious of the fact that she was only wearing her bra and panties under the robe.
Perched on the edge of the bed, she watched him fish around in the big first aid box. He ripped open some antiseptic wipes and gestured.
Swallowing, she lay back and opened the bottom of the robe. The first touch of his hand made her jump.
“Sorry,” he rumbled.
“No, I’m sorry. This must be…uncomfortable for you.” Having to see her half naked.
She felt his gaze on her but didn’t look. He kept wiping and she glanced at the mirror on the wall. Her belly tightened. All she could see was his dark head bent over her body.
Don’t lust after your bodyguard. Don’t lust after the man who isn’t interested.
“I’ve seen injuries before,” he said. “This doesn’t bother me. I’m just pissed you got hurt. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“Rome, it wasn’t your fault. I asked to greet the crowd, and we couldn’t have guessed an unhinged, knife-wielding maniac would be there.” She stilled and wondered if that guy was her stalker? No, she doubted it.
“It’s my job to anticipate that.” Rome cleaned her wound, fingers brushing her skin, making her stifle a moan.
His job. Of course. She was sitting here, breathing in his scent, weaving silly fantasies, but to him, she was just a job.
“Thank you again, Rome. I know this is beyond your job description.”
“Hey.” He gripped her chin. “I’m here, whatever you need.”
If only. Be an adult, Sofia. “I want you to know that what happened in…” Goodness, this was much harder than she’d thought. “That what happened in New York won’t happen again. I know you…are a professional, and it’s clear you don’t think of me that way. I’m sorry I ever put you in that situation.”
Rome cocked his head. “What?”
Was he going to make her spell it out?
“I…” Ugh, this was horrible. “I won’t make the mistake of letting things get personal. I get that I’m…not your type, and you aren’t interested.”
Rome carefully pressed a bandage on her wound. “Are you serious?”
She blinked. “Yes. I’m trying to clear the air, after New York.
” Then the horrible thought hit her. God, what if he’d forgotten?
Hadn’t even thought about it or her? Nausea washed through her and she felt her cheeks burn.
Sofie prayed for an earthquake, or maybe a crashing meteor, to hit and save her. “Just forget I said anything.”
“You think I’m not attracted to you?” Rome said slowly.
She managed what she hoped looked like a smile. “You probably haven’t given me a thought. Let’s just…pretend I didn’t say anything.”
He gripped her chin again, forcing her to meet his gaze. A dark, intense look crossed his face, like he was fighting something. “Have you looked in the mirror?”
She made an annoyed sound. “I know what I look like.”
Then his thumb stroked along her cheekbone. It ignited a whole slew of sensation inside her.
“Thought of you a lot, Princess Sofia. Especially wearing that sexy column of green silk you wore to the ball.”
Her chest hitched. Oh, God.
She shifted and her robe gaped. It displayed the secret she kept well hidden—her navel piercing. Rome’s gaze fell on her belly and the purple amethyst in her piercing, and he froze.
Oh. Her cheeks caught fire. She fumbled for the robe. What if he thought she was displaying herself on purpose?
He reached out as well, but when she moved, his hand fell on her skin, right above her piercing.
They both froze.
His fingers moved over her skin and she felt the sensation right between her legs. She stifled a moan. His big hand practically spanned her belly. She looked up and she saw heat in his green eyes.
She blinked. Terrified that she was imagining the desire.
“I’m not allowed to think of you that way.” His voice was deep, harsh.
Her belly clenched. “Rome—”
“But I have.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m your bodyguard.” He stepped back. “I have to be focused on your safety.”
She tried to breathe, tried to talk. She managed a nod.
“I don’t sleep with my charges. Ever.” He straightened. “Air clear now?”
Sofie swallowed. “Um, no, I don’t think it is.”
His lips twitched, and his gaze roamed over her face. “You should take some painkillers.”
She nodded. Her side stung, so she wasn’t going to fight that. She closed the robe and tightened the belt firmly. She tried to ignore the heat in her belly.
“If it gets infected, let me know,” he said.
She nodded again. She really needed a minute by herself, away from his overwhelming presence, to gather her thoughts.
Rome wanted her. Her heart did a giddy dance. But he wouldn’t cross the line because he was her bodyguard. Boo .
“If you aren’t too tired, I’d like to go over your schedule,” he said.
Schedule? The man was giving her mental whiplash. “Okay.”
“Get dressed, Princess. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
He strode out, and Sofie let out a huge, shaky breath. What the hell had just happened?