My attempt at humor doesn’t seem to faze her as she diverts her stare to our clasped hands. “I don’t need your protection. Just your support.”
“That you already have, dear sister. I’m simply a phone call away.”
She sighs in resignation. “Right.”
Emalia lifts crystal blue eyes to mine as she squeezes my hand. Almost two years apart, my sister and I have often been mistaken for twins because of our shared features and coloring, although my hair is a shade darker than her sandy blonde locks.
“When will I meet this mysterious bodyguard you’ve hired for me?” I project a tone of humor to my words, more for my benefit than hers. I’m not yet keen on the idea of having a bodyguard, but at least we found a workable solution—one I hope will convince my teammates.
“At the airport. She’ll meet the car there and make sure your pretty face doesn’t get harmed in any way.”
“I still don’t see the necessity.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Frustration tinges her sigh this time. “Yes, we’ve been over this again and again, Payton. But itisnecessary. You’re now the heir apparent. You know how the system works.”
I nod, clenching my jaw to prevent spewing my own suppressed irritation. When they finally declared our cousin had perished at sea, the wheels went into motion right away topass the title to the next person in line—my sister, which then put me in the mix.
Initially, I was told I would have to quit hockey and move back to England. I resisted, stating that I had a commitment to fulfill. My contract with the Sun Kings has two more years left. And the powers that be could find nothing that would require my presence in parliament.
So, we made an agreement. I can return to the States as long as I agree to have a bodyguard with me twenty-four-seven. Never imagined she’d take my half-joking suggestion that said bodyguard should be a female who could pose as my girlfriend so seriously. After hours of hashing out ways to make this work, Emalia informed me she’d contacted a firm in London that trained and provided female bodyguards.
Then she had the nerve to outline her brilliant plan—her words, not mine—of me pretending I had a whirlwind romance over the summer and returned with a bride. I told her that seemed unnecessary, as couples live together all the time without involving a marriage contract. She insisted that despite our little deception—okay, major deception—our family values needed to be upheld. However, I know for a fact my sister is a raging romantic because she’s read romance novels as far back as I can remember. I’m almost certain she plucked this story of hers from one of her books.
Emalia lifts her face to mine and kisses my cheek. “Make sure you’re a dutiful husband, little brother. You wouldn’t want to upset your new wifey.”
I growl in reaction to her tinkling laughter. “You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”
She holds her hands out and dons an innocent expression that might fool others but not me. “You always said you wanted to settle down one day.”
Now she’s playing dirty, repeating something I said after a nasty breakup last year. I rise and take a step back. “Yes, after I’m done living my life and doing thethings I want to do.”
Her face turns serious as she stands. “Sometimes we have to do what’s required.”
Em’s words twist like a knife in my chest. She had to give up her medical practice to fulfill her newly acquired role of Baronet of Tillendale, which I know wasn’t easy.
I take her hands and pull her up to hug her, but she remains stiff. “I’m sorry. I understand this has cost you more than it has me.”
She softens and settles against me. “I keep wishing I’ll wake up and find out it was a mistake. That Sebastian will walk in with that goofy smile of his and say it was all a joke.”
I plant a kiss on top of her head. “I wish that for you, too, dear sister. I truly do.”
She lifts her face to look at me. “I know you don’t believe there’s a threat, but promise me you’ll do whatever your bodyguard tells you?”
Her gaze is relentless in her demand for my agreement, and her tone makes it clear she’s left no room for arguments. I only hope my teammates in Florida will be none the wiser as to my true identity. I’ve done a fair job of avoiding deeper questions about my family. They only know I’m the third male to bear the name Payton Gerard Maxwell. That alone gave them more fodder than they needed in those first months of playing, but with every ribbing, I knew I became one of them, a part of the team. This new title development could change all of that if my ties to the monarchy were to become known.
The true test came last year when a photojournalist followed us for the entire season. I managed to avoid her questions about my familial origins, and thankfully, she didn’t do much digging into my family. Not that she would have found much of interest. The Maxwell name was only second in line before now, and most people outside of Tillendale don’t know or don’t care about what title we might hold. Surely, this ruse won’t be any more difficult than that.
“I promise.” I strengthen my resolve to not let this become an issue as I hug her tighter for reassurance.
“Thank you.” Her stern expression breaks into a gentle smile for the first time today, sending a spike of relief through me. Seeing my sister so troubled these last few weeks weighed heavily on me—probably what finally pushed me to concede to her insistence that I have a bodyguard.
Do I want to play a charade, deceiving my teammates, who have become like a second family to me? No. But I don’t appear to have much choice. And I know deep down it’s the least I can do for my sister, who’s doing her best to accommodate me.
As she said, sometimes one must do what’s required. I’m sure the long plane flight will give me plenty of time to get acquainted with my new fake bride and develop a plan to make this believable.
Unless I can figure a way out of this, that is…
Chapter Two
