"Good, because she doesn't need to like me; she just has to follow my orders," I said, my lips twitching in what might have been a smile on another man. On me, it looked more like a grimace.
"She won't. She's very particular about everything she does and has always clashed with her security detail. She threw a fit when Cameron wouldn't let her go to this flower festival inPoland," Ella explained. "In the end, she got her way, and things had been frosty between them ever since."
"So she's one of those, is she? Demanding, self-centred, and someone who doesn't care about what others do and how hard they work whilst trying to keep her safe," I said, shaking my head and thinking that this assignment was already more complicated than I'd expected. I didn't doubt that the princess was like any other celebrity, always obsessed with her self-importance and confidence. I felt my jaw tighten at the thought.
"She definitely knows what she wants, but if you get on her good side, then maybe she will listen to you," Ella continued, sounding cheerful.
"I have no desire to get on her good side, Ella. I will be her bodyguard, and there is nothing more to it," I insisted. My voice was cold and rigid. "She will listen, or I will make her royal life a living hell."
"And how are you proposing that you do that, Mr. Banks?"
I heard her before I saw her. Evangeline Romanov stepped forward from behind one stall, wearing practical work clothes and boots and a slight smirk on her face. "I apologise for the intrusion. I heard voices whilst checking on the new mother cow in the back stall. I stayed to finish my examination, but couldn't help overhearing your… professional assessment." Her blue eyes held mine steadily. "I do hope you'll find our working relationship more manageable than expected."
Chapter Two
Evangeline
After finishing my morning correspondence, I stole a few minutes of peace before meeting my new bodyguard. The ducklings always calmed my nerves, and I felt I'd need all the serenity I could get.
I wandered off to the barn, hoping to see the ducklings before my appointment with my new bodyguard, and walked straight into Ella, who was talking to an enormous man. I couldn't quite see him from where I was standing, and I hadn't planned to eavesdrop, but then Ella mentioned me.
"She definitely knows what she wants," Ella said, her voice warm and cheerful as always.
"I have no desire to get on her good side, Ella," the man replied, his voice cold as ice. "I will be her bodyguard, and there is nothing more to it. She will listen, or I will make her royal life a living hell."
Make my royal life a living hell? Who did this man think he was?
My blood instantly boiled. I stepped around the fence where most of the ducklings were being kept—twenty precious babies I'd been visiting since they hatched—and revealed myself.
"And how exactly are you proposing that you do that, Mr. Banks?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips.
He rose in fluid motion, and I almost stepped back. Almost. Whatever calm demeanour he might have had moments before was gone—his posture was rigid, his face a professional mask. He was massive—built like one of those professional wrestlers I'd once seen at an event in London when I was sixteen. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. He wasn't just built like a fortress; he was also handsome in a rugged, unapologetic way. Dark brown hair cut short, and the most piercing blue eyes I'd ever seen—eyes that were now studying me, making butterflies dance in my stomach.
Very bad idea indeed, Evangeline.
Bellavista was suffering through a heatwave, but standing before him felt like standing too close to the sun. The heat radiated from him in waves, making the air between us shimmer with tension. I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching. No one had ever called me self-centred or threatened to make my life hell before. The audacity was almost impressive.
"Your Highness," he said with a curt nod, his expression completely unreadable.
Ella must have slipped out when I announced my presence—I caught a glimpse of her wide-eyed expression as she hurried away. Smart girl. She'd probably realised she'd inadvertently caused a problem by discussing me with my new bodyguard. She was kind-hearted, the daughter of one of my most trusted advisors, though she'd chosen to work managing the agricultural side of our estate rather than follow a more traditional court path. I could only assume he'd wandered over here whilstwaiting for our appointment—Dara probably told him to wait in the gardens, but he'd found his way to the barn instead.
I noticed the duckling still in his massive hands, fidgeting uncomfortably. He seemed to have forgotten he was holding it in the tension of our confrontation.
"The duckling is in distress," I said, stepping forward purposefully. "Give it to me."
I took the baby duck from his hands, our fingers brushing briefly. For just an instant, something in his expression softened as he watched me with the duckling—a glimpse of the gentleness I'd witnessed when I first saw him. But it vanished so quickly I almost thought I'd imagined it. An electric current shot through me, and I struggled not to show any reaction. The duckling made gentle peeps into my palm. I needed distance from this enormous man, so I moved around the barn and gently placed the baby in the small enclosure with the others.
"Your Highness, I shouldn't have said what I said earlier," he finally spoke, his deep voice causing my heart to skip a beat despite my anger.
I turned to face him, putting on my best royal smile—the kind that didn't reach my eyes. He towered over me, and I was already tall for a woman. He had to be at least six-foot-four—no wonder Dara had looked small next to him when I'd seen them together.
"Save it, Mr. Banks," I replied, my voice sharp but controlled. "I've heard enough. I'll see you shortly at the palace—or not."
I walked out of that barn with my head high, refusing to run even though my instincts screamed at me to flee. Once I slipped through the kitchen entrance and found myself alone, I leaned against the wall and tried to calm my racing heart. My skin felt feverish, and anger pulsed through my veins.
He judged you without knowing you and called you self-centred when he hadn't spent a minute in your shoes.
I didn't know why his words cut so deeply, but they did. Cameron had been much nicer when we first met—always professional until he fell for Olga a few months ago. Things had changed quickly after that.
