AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He likely won’t approve.” But I agree. Topher has to invite our parents, even if they say they can’t come. Lauren’s mum too, though she’d likely rather be at the official one.
“Probably not.” Topher sighs. “I don’t know about this, sis. There are already paparazzi circling here, trying to get the latest scoop on the wedding details. I’m frankly surprised Lauren hasn’t been accosted yet, but I’ve got a man following her at long range just in case.”
Why doesn’t that surprise me? “I’ll be fine. Nobody here’s recognized me as royalty, not even on the last trip when I was here for a week.” Of course, the three of us (plus Tia) mostly planned Shelby’s wedding and hung out on The Purple Seashell’s private beach, but I won’t tell him that.
“If I agree to this, you can’t tell people who the wedding is for. That would certainly draw extra attention.”
Does the man think I was born yesterday? I’m only five years younger than him, but twenty-nine years of being held hostage by the media and their opinions have made me an expert. “Obviously.” I slow down my pace, take a moment to step off the boardwalk, into the sand.
He’s quiet for a long moment while I stand there, letting the sun soak into my skin, trying to breathe, to slow my heart rate. It’s out of my hands now, but I realize that I need him to say yes. Not just for him and Lauren, but for me.
I need a reason to be here, away. I need to figure out what’s next for me.
“All right. You win.”
Squealing, I jump. A group of college guys eyes me appreciatively, whistling. If I did have a bodyguard nearby, I’d either be hustled away or those guys would regret their actions.
But for one blessed day, I’m still free, so I smile at them and start walking back toward my hotel. “You won’t be sorry, Toph.”
“Just be careful, Chloe. For goodness’s sake, return to your hotel and wait for my man to arrive.”
“Love you, brother.” I hang up quickly, not wanting to make a promise I know I can’t keep.
Because I have a wedding to plan—and not much time to do it.
two
FREDERICK
When the Prince of Kentonia texts youNeed you ASAP, mate, you rush to his side immediately.
Unless, of course, you’re in the middle of bench pressing more weight than you probably should on your own.
I mutter under my breath and strain against the barbell threatening to crush my chest as the mobile lying on the floor at my feet reads my text message aloud to me a third time. Annoying blighter.
Of course, I’m even more annoyed with myself. I probably shouldn’t have added that extra twenty kilos, but sometimes all you can control in life is how much weight you place on your barbells. So you take what you can get.
Now, though, I’m regretting such actions.
Sweat drips down the sides of my temples as I push against the weight. I could probably call for help, but nobody else is in the small staff gym located at the back of the Kentonian palace. And even if there was someone passing by, I’d rather lose a limb than give the guys this particular reason to give me grief.
Imagine: one of the prince’s bodyguards, stuck underneath a problem of his own making. I’m paid to be precise, to see the dangers in every situation—and yet here I lie, having severely overestimated my own capabilities.
There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but I don’t have time to find it.
Instead, I grunt with the grunt of a thousand gorillas (gorillas DO grunt, right?) and manage to get the barbell up and secured onto the rack with shaky arms. Then I lean down, scoop up my phone, and haul it out of the gym in my T-shirt and athletic shorts, reeking of sweat.
But my prince—and best mate since our shared armed forces days—is in trouble. And I might be off duty as a bodyguard, but I’m never off duty as a best mate.
After all, I owe Topher everything. If he needs me, I’m there. No questions asked.
I’m fairly certain at this time in the afternoon on a weekday, he’s in his study, but while I careen around corner after corner—passing footmen who wrinkle their noses at my stank and a few maids who put their heads together and giggle as I jog by—I swipe open my mobile app to locate Topher, whose watch always tells us where he is.
Yep, he’s in the study.
Feeling one of my customary migraines coming on, I leave the servants’ wing, where I’ve lived off and on again for twelve years since becoming the royal family’s youngest bodyguard at the age of twenty-two thanks to my father’s intervention. Not that Topher needed much of a nudge to hire me after we’d spent four years in the Kentonian armed forces together and bonded like brothers.
Of course, the prince is not my actual brother—I’m nowhere near good enough to be royal. And my name is stained forever, thanks to the accusations leveled against my father a decade ago. But considering I no longer have a blood brother on this earth, Topher is the closest thing I’ll ever have.
