Chapter 1 #2
If only it were that simple. It would be for him, since the Dutch were so wonderfully direct. The thought of being that straightforward gave me the shivers. “Not bloody likely, but I appreciate the advice.”
“Use it as time to experiment,” Tore said softly. “To be yourself as much as you can be.”
Which was code for see if you can find a man to lose your virginity to, but there was no need to say that out loud when we all understood. “Right. Well, I should prepare for this briefing. Wish me luck.”
After a chorus of encouraging words and promises to check in soon, I ended the call and stared at my laptop screen.
In fifteen minutes, I would meet the man who would be my constant companion for the next year.
The man who would witness whatever personal revelations or catastrophic mistakes I might make during my time at Cascade Bay University.
Brilliant. Not only was I venturing into uncharted territory with a small but stubborn hope to finally find a guy to hook up with, as the Americans would say, but I’d have a professional observer documenting my inevitable humiliation. How marvelous.
At precisely three o’clock, I joined the video conference. My private secretary, Marcus Whitmore—a man so efficiently organized, it bordered on the obsessive—was already present, along with Rebecca Hartwell, the head of our security office.
“Your Highness,” Marcus began in his crisp tone, “we’re waiting for Special Agent Puller to join us, and then we can begin the briefing.”
Special Agent Puller. Even the name sounded solid, dependable, thoroughly American. I straightened my shoulders and prepared to meet my fate.
The screen flickered, and suddenly, a new face appeared in the call.
I nearly spilled tea on my laptop.
The man looking back at me through the screen was nothing like the grizzled, imposing security professionals I was accustomed to.
Special Agent Puller appeared to be roughly my own age, even though I knew he had to be older, with warm brown eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners and dark hair that looked like he’d recently run his fingers through it.
There was a small scar visible along his jawline, and when he spoke, his voice carried the distinctive drawl of the American South.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness. I’m Secret Service Special Agent Basil Puller, but most people call me Bash.”
Bash. Even his nickname was devastatingly appealing.
“Er, yes, hello,” I managed, grateful that my voice came out mostly steady. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Special Agent Puller.”
“Bash is fine, Your Highness,” he said with what might have been the hint of a smile. “After all, we’ll have to sell our cover of being roommates.”
Roommates. The word sent an entirely inappropriate thrill through me. “Yes, of course.” I swallowed. “So we can leave out the formalities of my title as well. Please call me Eddie.”
“Eddie it is,” he said, and something about the way my assumed name sounded in his Southern drawl made my stomach flutter in a thoroughly alarming manner.
“Special Agent Puller, thank you for joining us,” Rebecca said. She’d spoken to him before, of course, having interviewed him for the job, and she’d assured me he was highly qualified.
He was twenty-seven years old—though he looked younger, which was one of the reasons he’d been hired since he’d have to pose as a college student—and had spent six years in the Marines, followed by a position as deputy sheriff while getting his bachelor’s degree in criminology.
He’d been hired by the Secret Service before he even graduated and had worked there for a year now.
By all standards, he was qualified for the job and came highly recommended.
I forced myself to focus on Rebecca’s voice as she began outlining the security arrangements, but my attention kept drifting back to Bash’s face on the screen.
He was listening intently, occasionally asking pointed questions about campus layout, emergency protocols, and communication procedures.
Professional. Competent. And unfortunately for my peace of mind, absolutely gorgeous.
“Now, regarding your cover identity, Your Highness,” Rebecca was saying, “We’ve created a complete background for you as Eddie York with a wealthy British family, international business connections, and a private school education.
Nothing too far from the truth, but sufficient to hide your real identity. ”
Eddie York. It felt strange to hear my assumed name spoken aloud, but there was something liberating about it as well. Eddie could be anyone. Eddie could make mistakes, could explore, could perhaps even be honest about his attraction to men without bringing shame upon the Crown.
Perhaps.
Bash met my eyes through the camera. “The key is to keep things as normal as possible. I’ll be your roommate, we’ll both be students, and my job is to keep you safe while making sure nobody suspects anything unusual about the arrangement.”
“Quite right,” I agreed, then immediately winced at my own phrasing. “That is to say, yes, maintaining the appearance of normality will be essential.”
Something flickered in Bash’s expression, but his voice remained professional. “I’ve reviewed the campus layout and your class schedule. The classes look interesting enough, even for someone who’s never studied International Relations.”
I appreciated his attempt at normality. “I hope you won’t find them too boring.”
He gave a warm smile. “I look forward to broadening my knowledge.”
When Rebecca started talking about the logistics, something she said caught my attention.
“Excuse me, I didn’t quite catch that.”
“The most secure housing on campus are apartments that are for couples only, so on paper, you and Special Agent Puller will be posing as a couple. This is just so no one else, especially fellow students, will get suspicious.”
Posing as a couple? With this man?
I was absolutely, thoroughly, and utterly buggered.
I fought to keep my face blank, however. Bash’s expression was neutral as well when he said, “That’s good to know.”
That’s good to know? That was all he had to say about it? Then again, what else could he say? It wasn’t like he had much of a choice either.
When the call finally ended, I sat staring at my laptop screen long after everyone had disconnected.
Bash’s face lingered in my mind with those warm brown eyes, the way his voice had softened slightly when he’d agreed to call me Eddie, the professional competence that somehow made him even more attractive.
On impulse, I rang Floris. He would not only understand, but his direct, level-headed advice often got through my panic.
“Well?” he demanded immediately. “How did it go? Please tell me your bodyguard isn’t some enormous, intimidating brute who’ll spend the year glowering at anyone who tries to talk to you.”
“I’m doomed, Floris,” I said, letting my head fall back against the chair. “Absolutely doomed.”
A beat of silence. Then, much softer, “Oh no. He’s attractive, isn’t he?”
“Attractive doesn’t begin to cover it.” I groaned. “He’s… He’s perfect. Young, competent, kind eyes, this lovely Southern accent, and I have to spend an entire year living with him while pretending I’m not having completely inappropriate thoughts about my bodyguard.”
“Of course he’s young. He has to pose as a fellow student.”
Like I said, level-headed. “But did he have to be this good-looking? And have that irresistible drawl? And get this: we have to pose as a couple.”
Floris’s laughter filled my apartment. “This is wonderful! Finally, something interesting happens in your carefully orchestrated life.”
“Wonderful? This spells disaster. I’m supposed to be exploring my authentic self, not developing an enormous crush on the man whose job it is to protect me. The professional boundaries alone are—”
“Professional boundaries are overrated. You’ve never had the opportunity to explore this side of yourself. This could be exactly what you need.”
I stared at the ceiling, contemplating the magnificent irony of it all. I’d spent years carefully avoiding any situation that might reveal my true nature, and now I was voluntarily placing myself in the most tempting circumstances imaginable. “What if I make a complete fool of myself?”
“Then you’ll be a fool who’s finally being honest about who he is,” Floris said gently. “Greg, you’ve spent your entire life being the perfect prince, the dutiful nephew, the future Duke who never puts a foot wrong. Maybe it’s time to see what happens when you let yourself be human.”
After we hung up, I sat in the growing darkness of my apartment, watching the lights begin to twinkle across London.
In four weeks, I would board a plane to Seattle.
I would become Eddie York, ordinary university student.
I would share living space with a man whose mere presence on a video call had reduced me to a stammering, tea-spilling mess.
Perhaps Floris was right. Perhaps it was time to see what happened when I stopped being Gregory Edward William Mountbatten-Windsor, future Duke of York, and became Eddie York, when I simply allowed myself to be… myself.
Whatever that might turn out to be.
Whoever that might turn out to be.
Eddie York was about to embark on an adventure that would either be the most liberating year of his life, or the most thoroughly humiliating.
Knowing my luck, it would probably be the latter.