Part one: First chapter

NOTE TO READERS:

This story takes place over four years and includes several

time jumps, especially in Part I, in order to bring us to the

present. It has overlapping timelines with the preceding

book, Twisted Love.

Part I takes place through the epilogue of Twisted Love (the

past); Part II takes place after (the present).

It is recommended but not necessary to read Twisted Love

first in order to understand what happens.

BRIDGET

“Spank me! Master, spank me!”

I stifled a laugh at my bodyguard Booth’s face as Leather

the parrot squawked in his cage. The parrot’s name said all

you needed to know about its previous owner’s sex life, and

while some found him amusing, Booth did not. He hated

birds. He said they reminded him of giant flying rats.

“One day, he and Leather are going to get into it.” Emma,

the director of Wags & Whiskers, clucked her tongue. “Poor

Booth.”

I held back another laugh even as I felt a small pang in my

heart. “Probably not. Booth’s leaving soon.”

I tried not to think about it. Booth had been with me for

four years, but he was leaving for paternity leave next week

and staying in Eldorra after to be closer to his wife and

newborn. I was happy for him, but I would miss him. He was

not only my bodyguard but a friend, and I could only hope

his replacement and I had the same rapport.

“Ah, yes, I forgot.” Emma’s face softened. She was in her

early sixties, with short, gray-streaked hair and warm brown

eyes. “Lots of changes for you in a short time, my dear.”

She knew how much I hated goodbyes.

I’d been volunteering at Wags & Whiskers, a local pet

rescue shelter, since my sophomore year of college, and

Emma had become a close friend and mentor. Unfortunately,

she, too, was leaving. She’d still be in Hazelburg, but she was

retiring as the shelter director, which meant I would no

longer see her every week.

“One of them doesn’t have to happen,

” I said, only halfjoking. “You could stay.”

She shook her head. “I’ve run the shelter for almost a

decade, and it’s time for new blood. Someone who can clean

the cages without her back and hips acting up.”

“That’s what volunteers are for.” I gestured toward

myself. I was belaboring the point, but I couldn’t help it.

Between Emma, Booth, and my impending graduation from

Thayer University, where I was majoring in international

relations—as expected of a princess—I had enough

goodbyes to last me for the next five years.

“You are a sweetheart. Don’t tell the others, but…” She

lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re my

favorite volunteer. It’s rare to find someone of your stature

who does charity because she wants to, not because she’s

putting on a show for the cameras.”

My cheeks tinted pink at the compliment. “It’s my

pleasure. I adore animals.” I took after my mother in that

regard. It was one of the few pieces of her I had left.

In another life, I would’ve been a veterinarian, but in this

life? My path had been laid out for me since before I was

born.

“You would make a great queen.” Emma stepped aside to

allow a staff member with a wriggling puppy in his arms to

pass. “Truly.”

I laughed at the thought. “Thank you, but I have no

interest in being queen. Even if I did, the chances of me

wearing the crown are slim.”

As the princess of Eldorra, a small European kingdom, I

came closer to ruling than most people. My parents died

when I was a kid—my mother at childbirth, my father in a

car accident a few years later—so I was second in line to the

throne. My brother Nikolai, who was four years my senior,

had been training to take over for our grandfather King

Edvard since he was old enough to walk. Once Nikolai had

children, I would be bumped further down the line of

succession, something I had zero complaints about. I wanted

to be queen as much as I wanted to bathe in a vat of acid.

Emma frowned in disappointment. “Ah, well, the

sentiment is the same.”

“Emma!” one of the other staff members called out.

“We’ve got a situation with the cats.”

She sighed. “It’s always the cats,

” she muttered.

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you about my retirement before

you heard it from anyone else. I’ll still be here until the end

of next week, so I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Sounds good.” I hugged her goodbye and watched her

rush off to deal with a literal catfight, the pang in my chest

growing.

I was glad Emma hadn’t told me about her retirement

until the end of my shift, or it would’ve been in my head the

whole time.

“Are you ready, Your Highness?” Booth asked, clearly

eager to get away from Leather.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

“Yes, let’s go!” Leather squawked as we exited. “Spank

me!”

My laugh finally broke free at Booth’s grimace. “I’ll miss

you, and so will Leather.” I stuffed my hands in my coat

pockets to protect them against the sharp autumn chill. “Tell

me about the new bodyguard. What’s he like?”

The leaves crunched beneath my boots as we walked

toward my off-campus house, which was only fifteen

minutes away. I adored fall and everything that came with it

—the cozy clothes, the riot of earthy colors on the trees, the

hint of cinnamon and smoke in the air.

In Athenberg, I wouldn’t be able to walk down the street

without getting mobbed, but that was the great thing about

Thayer. Its student population boasted so many royals and

celebrity offspring, a princess was no big deal. I could live

my life like a relatively normal college girl.

“I don’t know much about the new guard,

” Booth

admitted. “He’s a contractor.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

The Crown sometimes hired private security contractors

to serve alongside the Royal Guard, but it was rare. In my

twenty-one years, I’d never had a bodyguard who was a

contractor.

“He’s supposed to be the best,

” Booth said, mistaking my

surprise for wariness. “Ex-Navy SEAL, top-notch

recommendations, experience guarding high-profile

personalities. He’s his company’s most sought-after

professional.”

“Hmm.” An American guard. Interesting. “I do hope we get

along.”

When two people were around each other twenty-fourseven, compatibility mattered. A lot. I knew people who

hadn’t meshed with their security details, and those

arrangements never lasted long.

“I’m sure you will. You’re easy to get along with, Your

Highness.”

“You’re only saying that because I’m your boss.”

Booth grinned. “Technically, the Director of the Royal

Guard is my boss.”

I wagged a playful finger at him. “Backtalking already?

I’m disappointed.”

He laughed. Despite his insistence on calling me Your

Highness, we’d settled into a casual camaraderie over the

years that I appreciated. Excessive formality exhausted me.

We chatted about Booth’s impending fatherhood and

move back to Eldorra for the rest of our walk. He was near

bursting with pride over his unborn child, and I couldn’t

help a small stab of envy. I was nowhere near ready for

marriage and kids, but I wanted what Booth and his wife

had.

Love. Passion. Choice. Things no amount of money could

buy.

A sardonic smile touched my lips. No doubt I’d sound like

an ungrateful brat to anyone who could hear my thoughts. I

could get any material thing I desired with a snap of my

fingers, and I was whining about love.

But people were people, no matter their title, and some

desires were universal. Unfortunately, the ability to fulfill

them was not.

Maybe I would fall in love with a prince who’d sweep me

off my feet, but I doubted it. Most likely, I’d end up in a

boring, socially acceptable marriage with a boring, socially

acceptable man who only had sex missionary style and

vacationed in the same two places every year.

I pushed the depressing thought aside. I had a long way to

go before I even thought about marriage, and I’d cross that

bridge when I got there.

My house came into sight, and my eyes latched onto the

unfamiliar black BMW idling in the driveway. I assumed it

belonged to my new bodyguard.

“He’s early.” Booth raised a surprised brow. “He’s not

supposed to arrive until five.”

“Punctuality is a good sign, I suppose.” Though half an

hour early might be overkill.

The car door opened, and a large black boot planted itself

on the driveway. A second later, the biggest man I’d ever

seen in real life unfolded himself from the front seat, and my

mouth turned bone dry.

Holy. Hotness.

My new bodyguard had to be at least six foot four, maybe

even six-five, with solid, sculpted muscle packed onto every

inch of his powerful frame. Longish black hair grazed his

collar and fell over one gunmetal-gray eye, and his legs were

so long he ate up the distance between us in three strides.

For someone so large, he moved with surprising stealth. If

I hadn’t been looking at him, I wouldn’t have noticed him

approach at all.

He stopped in front of me, and I swore my body tilted

forward a centimeter, unable to resist his gravitational pull. I

was also strangely tempted to run my hand through his thick

dark locks. Most veterans kept their hair military-style short

even after leaving the service, but clearly, he wasn’t one of

them.

“Rhys Larsen.” His deep, gravelly voice rolled over me

like a velvety caress. Now that he was closer, I spotted a thin

scar slashing through his left eyebrow, adding a hint of

menace to his dark good looks. Stubble darkened his jaw, and

a hint of a tattoo peeked out from both sleeves of his shirt.

He was the opposite of the preppy, clean-shaven types I

usually went for, but that didn’t stop a swarm of butterflies

from taking flight in my stomach.

I was so flustered by their appearance I forgot to respond

until Booth let out a small cough.

“I’m Bridget. It’s nice to meet you.” I hoped neither man

noticed the flush creeping over my cheeks.

I omitted the Princess title on purpose. It seemed too

pretentious for casual, one-on-one settings.

I did, however, notice Rhys didn’t address me as Your

Highness the way Booth did. I didn’t mind—I’d been trying to

get Booth to call me by my first name for years—but it was

another sign my new guard would be nothing like my old

one.

“You have to move.”

I blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your house.” Rhys tilted his head toward my spacious

but cozy two-bedroom abode. “It’s a security nightmare. I

don’t know who signed off on the location, but you have to

move.”

The butterflies screeched to a halt.

We’d met less than two minutes ago, and he was already

ordering me around like he was the boss. Who does he think he

is? “I’ve lived here for two years. I’ve never had an issue.”

“It only takes one time.”

“I’m not moving.” I punctuated my words with a

sharpness I rarely used, but Rhys’s condescending tone

grated on my nerves.

Any attraction I’d felt toward him crumbled into ash,

dying the quickest death in my history with the opposite sex.

Not that it would’ve gone anywhere. He was, after all, my

bodyguard, but it would’ve been nice to have eye candy

without wanting to drop-kick him into the next century.

Men. They always ruined it by opening their mouths.

“You’re the security expert,

” I added coolly. “Figure it

out.”

Rhys glowered at me beneath thick, dark brows. I couldn’t

remember the last time anyone had glowered at me.

“Yes, Your Highness.” His inflection on the last two words

made a mockery of the title, and the embers of indignation

in my stomach stoked brighter.

I opened my mouth to respond—with what, I wasn’t sure,

because he hadn’t been outright hostile—but Booth cut in

before I said something I would regret.

“Why don’t we go inside? It looks like it’s about to rain,

”

he said quickly.

Rhys and I looked up. The clear blue sky winked back at

us.

Booth cleared his throat. “You never know. Rain showers

come out of nowhere,

” he muttered. “After you, Your

Highness.”

We entered the house in silence.

I shrugged off my coat and hung it on the brass tree by

the door before making another stab at civility. “Would you

like something to drink?”

Irritation still stabbed at me, but I hated confrontation,

and I didn’t want my relationship with my new bodyguard to

start on such a sour note.

“No.” Rhys scanned the living room, which I’d decorated

in shades of jade green and cream. A housekeeper came by

twice a month to deep clean, but I kept the place tidy myself

for the most part.

“Why don’t we get to know each other?” Booth said in a

jovial, too-loud voice. “Er, I mean you and Rhys, Your

Highness. We can talk needs, expectations, schedules…”

“Excellent idea.” I mustered a strained smile and

gestured Rhys toward the couch. “Please. Sit.”

For the next forty-five minutes, we ran through logistics

for the transition. Booth would remain my bodyguard until

Monday, but Rhys would shadow him until then so he could

get a feel for how things worked.

“This is all fine.” Rhys closed the file containing a

detailed breakdown of my class and weekly schedules,

upcoming public events, and expected travel. “Let me be

frank, Princess Bridget. You are not my first, nor will you be

the last, royal I’ve guarded. I’ve worked with Harper Security

for five years, and I’ve never had a client harmed while

under my protection. Do you want to know why?”

“Let me guess. Your dazzling charm stunned the wouldbe attackers into complacency,

” I said.

Booth choked out a laugh, which he quickly turned into a

cough.

Rhys’s mouth didn’t so much as twitch. Of course it didn’t.

My joke wasn’t Comedy Central worthy, but I imagined

finding a waterfall in the Sahara would be easier than finding

a drop of humor in that big, infuriatingly sculpted body.

“The reason is twofold,

” Rhys said calmly, as if I hadn’t

spoken at all. “One, I do not become involved in my clients’

personal lives. I am here to safeguard you from physical

harm. That is all. I am not here to be your friend, confidant,

or anything else. This ensures my judgment remains

uncompromised. Two, my clients understand the way things

must work if they are to remain safe.”

“And how is that?” My polite smile carried a warning he

either didn’t notice or ignored.

“They do what I say, when I say it for anything securityrelated.” Rhys’s gray eyes locked onto mine. It was like

staring at an unyielding steel wall. “Understand, Your

Highness?”

Forget love and passion. What I wanted most was to slap

the arrogant expression off his face and knee him in the

family jewels while I was at it.

I pressed the pads of my fingers into my thighs and

forced myself to count to three before I responded.

When I spoke again, my voice was frigid enough to make

Antarctica look like a beach paradise. “Yes.” My smile

sharpened. “Luckily for us both, Mr. Larsen, I have no

interest in being your friend, confidant, or ‘anything else.’”

I didn’t bother dignifying the second part of his

statement—the one about me doing what he said, when he

said it—with a response. I wasn’t an idiot. I’d always heeded

Booth’s security advice, but I’d be damned if I fed into

Rhys’s inflated sense of self.

“Good.” Rhys stood. I hated how tall he was. His presence

obliterated everything else in the vicinity until he was the

only thing I could focus on. “I’ll assess the house before we

discuss next steps, including upgrading your security

system. Right now, any teenager with access to YouTube

tutorials can bypass the alarm.” He shot me a disapproving

glare before he disappeared into the kitchen.

My jaw dropped. “He—you…” I sputtered,

uncharacteristically speechless. “Why, I never!” I turned to

Booth, who was trying to melt into the giant potted plant by

the front door. “You’re not leaving. I forbid it.”

Rhys could not be my bodyguard. I would murder him, and

my housekeeper would murder me for staining the carpet

with blood.

“He probably has first-day jitters.” Booth looked as

uncertain as he sounded. “You’ll get along just fine after the,

ah, transition period, Your Highness.”

Perhaps…if we made it out of the transition period alive.

“You’re right.” I pressed my fingers to my temple and

took a deep breath. I can do this. I’d dealt with difficult people

before. My cousin Andreas was the spawn of Satan, and a

British lord once tried to grope me under the table at

Monaco’s Rose Ball. He only stopped after I “accidentally”

stabbed his hand with a fork.

What was one surly bodyguard compared to entitled

aristocrats, nosy reporters, and evil family members?

Rhys returned. Surprise, surprise, his glower hadn’t

melted.

“I’ve detected six security vulnerabilities we need to

address ASAP,

” he said. “Let’s start with number one: the

windows.”

“Which ones?” Stay calm. Stay reasonable.

“All of them.”

Booth covered his face with his hands while I

contemplated turning my hairpin into a murder weapon.

Rhys and I definitely weren’t making it out of the

transition alive.

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