Code Name: Tiara by Sawyer Bennett
CHAPTER 4
Camille
“Why are you in such a crappy mood?” Marius asks from beside me.
True to Dmitri’s word, Marius is waiting outside the Enovia amphitheater hosting my mother’s private fundraiser. We’re here to champion her cause for education reform in underprivileged countries. She’s currently working on a project to develop a school that would allow over a thousand lower- and middle-class school children to attend for free, along with food stipends for entire families, in Haiti.
Jackson Gale drove us in one of Father’s Bentleys, and I was grateful he didn’t attempt small talk. In fact, he didn’t attempt any talk at all. Didn’t even offer a “good evening, Your Highness” when I met him at the east side carport.
He was polite enough to open the back door and made sure I pulled the length of my silver gown in all the way, but he was silent on the ten-minute drive to the amphitheater. Marius saw us arrive and jogged down the steps to open my door before Mr. Gale could even get out of the driver’s side.
Which was fine by me. I intended to ignore the man all night because, frankly, he wasn’t worth my attention.
Even if he was worth my attention—which, honestly, okay … he’s super hot—I wouldn’t be in the frame of mind to exert the effort. My mind is preoccupied by other things.
“My father is hiding something from me,” I say to Marius as my eyes sweep the outdoor venue. The lower level of chairs that make up the base of the stadium have been cleared, and tables have been set up for people to sit if they don’t want to stand and mingle. An orchestra plays, and waiters flow through the crowd offering canapés and champagne.
I chose something stronger, a gimlet on the rocks, but I’ve barely taken a sip. Instead, I stare across the crowd at my father, dashing in his tuxedo and royal sash draped across his chest. He wears no other adornments, and his coronation crown has been locked in a vault since he took the throne almost thirty years ago.
My mother, Juliana Winterbourne, is a vision next to him. I inherited her blond hair and blue eyes, and she looks like my sister rather than my mother. She’s Brazilian, and my father met her during the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul. He was there to watch, and she was there to play volleyball for her home country.
While she is tall and lithe, the epitome of queenly grace at fifty-two, she’s also a strong, powerful woman. She works out religiously—as does my father, who is powerful in his own right—and plays in a local recreational volleyball league where she crushes pretty much all the competition.
She must sense me staring at her, because she turns her lovely face my way and gives me a smile. Her eyes cut to Marius, the smile turns sly and comes back to me.
I smirk and shake my head at her.
Don’t go there, Mother. Marius and I are just friends.
And the infuriating woman knows it.
God love her, but it’s her queenly duty to help my father in his quest to find me someone suitable to marry and procreate with. Deep down, she knows I’m going to hold out for true love—whatever that means and wherever I find it—rather than be forced into something.
It’s just … my mom thinks it’s Marius, because we’re such close friends. She thinks that building block is what’s going to catapult our hearts together.
Sweet woman.
My eyes cut over to my father, and I feel my ire rise. When I demanded he tell me what’s going on—because I know he’s hiding something—he patronized me. Patted me on the head, figuratively, and told me not to worry my pretty self on such things.
I wanted to kick him, but I would never because I love him too much.
“What could he be hiding?” Marius asks drolly. “He has the dullest monarchy in the history of monarchies. There’s no political intrigue or royal scandals. His business operates so smoothly a monkey could run the mines, and he has the perfect family, except for one highly suspicious and daft daughter.”
There’s no stopping my elbow as it shoots sideways and catches him in the ribs. Marius was expecting it, though, and turned slightly so I only grazed him.
He laughs, sliding an arm around my waist and drawing me into him. To most, this would seem a romantic gesture. To Marius and me, it’s his way of offering comfort. His shoulder is the one I’ve cried on the most over my lifetime, and while he’s teasing, he knows I’m legitimately upset. I told him everything that happened after Dmitri busted me outside the walls, including the meeting with the American security team. I told him Dmitri and Father are hiding something, and I know there’s an important reason Dmitri isn’t handling my security. I also told him that after Father pointedly refused to tell me anything, he did order that I was never to step foot outside the walls again without security, and if he caught me doing so, he’d lock me in my room until I ascended the throne.
He wouldn’t, of course, but I know I have to cool it. If Marius and I want to go cliff diving, I’ll need permission and arrangements for security. This will obviously defeat the spontaneous acts of adventure Marius and I take together, not to mention our privacy to talk about all the secretive things we share.
Mostly his active sex life and my nonexistent one, but still… that’s private.
“There’s something wrong,” I say adamantly, although he’s right—we’re probably the dullest monarchy in history. “This whole story about the American government insisting on this Jameson company to lend protection and that’s why Dmitri is staying back doesn’t make sense. Especially since Father and Mother have suspended all their travel while I’m on my trip. They’re going to be safe at the compound, so why would Dmitri not accompany me?”
“Why do you care?” Marius asks curiously. “You can’t stand Dmitri. Don’t tell me you actually want him glowering at you for the next few weeks.”
“That’s beside the point,” I snap. “There’s something fishy about him not traveling.”
I mull it over, again scanning the venue. I nod and smile at those I make eye contact with. I pass over Jackson Gale as he stands at a table ten feet from me and Marius. He’s in a tux, and I have to say, he wears it well. Because he’s not supposed to look like security, he has a drink in hand, but I’m sure there’s no booze in it. Deception at its finest, but admittedly, he looks like he belongs.
He looks very fine indeed.
I grit my teeth at the unbidden thought.
“What if Dmitri’s refusal to accompany you has nothing to do with your parents but has something to do with Dmitri himself?”
My head quickly turns his way, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Marius shrugs noncommittally. “I’m just saying, we all know the rumors—”
I can’t help but snort. “You mean that he’s former KGB?”
“Why is it you can’t possibly consider that?”
The expression on his face looks almost sympathetic.
Piteous.
As if I couldn’t possibly understand the ways of the world, and it’s the saddest thing he’s ever seen.
It’s true… I’ve led a sheltered life, much of it on this island surrounded by a stone wall. It’s why this trip to the United States—my first ever—is so incredibly exciting. All the wonders of the Land of the Free. The great melting pot of the world.
Granted, my parents let me go to Switzerland for university. They’ve allowed me to travel across Europe with friends and family.
But every bit of that was done with heavy security and a long list of rules. To my parents, the United States seems far more dangerous and unpredictable, and they’ve always been hesitant to let me visit.
“Darling,” my mother would say, “it’s so big and full of so many walks of life. We would fear for your safety.”
I thought this was ludicrous because everywhere I go, my safety is an issue. It was a constant debate, my parents feeling like Europe was safer for me, but after pressing my case for a few years, they finally relented.
I’m going on my dream trip. Two solid weeks traveling across the United States, taking in every bit of touristy crap I can while working in some philanthropy and business for our mines at the same time. I’ll see the intensity of the Big Apple, the warm beaches of the Florida Keys, and sunny Los Angeles where the stars abound. I’ll even do some skiing in Wyoming—which I’m quite good at—and take in my first-ever rodeo. I’ll see more in two weeks than I will probably have seen in my travels so far.
I really should quit worrying about Dmitri and his reasons for not coming. As Marius points out, I don’t really like the man, and I should be grateful not to have him breathing down my neck. In fact, I bet it will be easier to give this guy Jackson the slip than it ever would Dmitri.
Should I have an inkling to do so.
My eyes move back to Jackson Gale. He’s not looking right at me, but I can tell by the way he holds his body, he’s completely aware of me and every person within a twenty-foot radius. I recognize that because it’s how Dmitri protects me. It means Jackson is very good at what he does. Maybe it won’t be so easy to give him the slip, but that’s not something to ponder right now. I generally follow the rules when I’m outside the compound—I’m no idiot. I know the value of my life to determined kidnappers.
It’s going to be weird having this stranger in my presence for the next few weeks. Awkward, really. I may not like Dmitri, but I’ve known him for almost thirteen years. There is a level of comfort there that I’m going to miss, despite his brutish ways.
“This party blows,” Marius grumbles. “Why do I even bother coming to these things?”
I roll my eyes, pulling away from him so that his arm around my waist disengages and instead I link our arms at the elbows, all without spilling a drop of my drink.
I lean my head on his shoulder, let it rest there a moment, and smile in fondness over such a stupid question. He knows the answer, but I provide it anyway, looking up at him. “Because, you know damn well you’re going to hook up with some heiress or waitress—you’re not picky—and you’ll go to sleep with a smile on your face. All this boring stuff will have been worth it.”
Marius snickers. “You know me way too well.”
“Come on,” I say as I give a tug of my elbow against his. “Let’s go walk along the docks and get away from all these stuffy people.”
“Best idea I’ve heard in years.” Marius slugs down his drink, and I place mine on the platter of a passing waiter. Marius slips his hand in mine and turns to lead me toward one of the exits.
I make it no more than three steps before something grabs hold of my free hand and jerks me to a stop. I gasp in indignation, tugging free of Marius to face whoever grabbed me.
It’s Jackson Gale, and he’s staring down at me with a thunderous expression.
I can’t even think why he’s looking at me like this, as if I’ve done something wrong, but I kick myself metaphorically for taking a moment to get lost in those fabulous eyes of his. If you broke them down with the mix of green, gold, and brown, you’d call them hazel. The truth is, they’re the lightest shades of those colors mixed in bands and striations. From a distance, and because of his dark hair providing contrast, his eyes are so light, they almost look unholy. But when you get up close and are able to see past the luminescence to the actual colors, you realize you’re looking at a work of art.
I blink to dispel the magic of his irises and my ridiculous poetic ruminations, instead cocking my head in silent question.
His eyes flash with annoyance. “Don’t ever leave my proximity without letting me know where you’re going and giving me the opportunity to make sure things are safe,” he growls, and I don’t like the message that sits just behind the command… that I’m a child who needs babysitting.
I jerk my hand away and take a step back only to come up against Marius’s body. His hands on my hips steady me, and he steps in closer. My friend knows me well enough to know that I’m offended by having my choices questioned in my own city where my father’s security forces are in attendance.
I lean forward slightly, eyes narrowing even more. I drop my voice, but it is no less imperious. “You do not own me, Mr. Gale. You do not control me. Your job is to watch. Your job is to protect. Therefore, if I choose to go for a walk, I’m going to go. You need to figure out how you can keep up and do your job at the same time. I don’t answer to you.”
If I thought that would put him in his place, I was sorely mistaken. He doesn’t even blink in astonishment or look apologetic. Instead, his expression turns impassive as he studies me long enough for me to feel like a bug under a microscope. Not once does he look over my shoulder at Marius who still stands behind me with his hands on my hips.
The message is clear. He doesn’t think my words matter nor does he think Marius is any type of threat.
What comes next is so surprising, neither I nor Marius has the wits to stop it. One second Marius has a hold of me from behind, and the next, Jackson has my hand in his, and he’s leading me toward the dance floor. “Let’s dance. We need to talk.”
I glance over my shoulder at Marius, leveling him with a look that pleads with him to rescue me. To my horror, my best friend abandons me. His gaze seems calculated as it moves to focus on Jackson. He then gives a slight shake of his head, smirk fully in place, before turning and walking away.
“I’m going to murder that bastard,” I mutter.
“Pissed your boyfriend is abandoning you?” Jackson mocks as he leads me straight to the middle of the dance floor and deftly turns me in his arms.
His right hand goes to my waist and his left takes my right, holding it at an angle away from my body. He puts appropriate distance between us and sweeps me across the large, parquet dance floor beside the orchestra.
I keep my lips pressed together and don’t disabuse Jackson of the notion that Marius is my boyfriend. The mere fact he threw that in my face would only give him satisfaction if I were to deny the nature of our relationship. Besides, it’s none of his business.
Instead, I say, “Do you treat all your clients so bullishly?”
“Bullishly?” Jackson asks with a bark of laughter. “I would never treat a princess bullishly. I would handle a spoiled brat who recklessly put herself in danger by bending said brat over my knee and spanking some sense into her.”
That should’ve pissed me off.
I should be so offended I’d be within my right to slap his face, not that I’ve ever done something like that.
His threat should make me want to berate him for his temerity. It should make me want to run to my father and Dmitri and tell them they’ve made a huge mistake letting this obnoxious man have control over my safety.
Rather, I’m horrified to realize that I have a vivid image of me over Jackson’s lap, and my skin tingles just from the promise of a spanking.
I shake my head hard. What the fuck am I thinking?
Why would I ever imagine such a scenario?
I banish it from my head, but it comes roaring back, except this time with more clarity. Jackson’s in his tux, sitting on the edge of a bed. I’m in my gown, bent over his lap and held in place with his large hand on my lower back. His other hand slides my gown up my legs, over my ass, which, I’m shocked to find, isn’t covered by any panties. His palm grazes over my flesh—
I stumble over my own feet as we dance, and Jackson easily rights me. I’m so embarrassed by where my mind had gone that I blurt out almost hysterically, “So, what do you think about the weather on our island?”
I wince internally because that was the most asinine thing to say. It propelled me from a position of power down to the echelons of bumbling idiots.
It made clear that this man intimidates me.
I hope it doesn’t make it clear that I’m attracted to him.
If he has an ounce of sense, he’s going to know something just threw me into disarray.
Jackson’s lips curve upward, and the sparkle in his eye tells me he knows I got sidetracked by the threat of a spanking.
I clear my throat. “There’s a really great beach along the eastern side of the island you should check out, and if you want a tour of the ruby mines, I could arrange—”
“Just stop it,” Jackson interrupts, and gone is the amusement I thought I just saw. “I get that you don’t know me and I don’t know you, and that Dmitri and his crew may do things differently, but as of this evening, I am exclusively in charge of your personal protection. So let’s just get one thing straight… unless you are inside your family’s compound, you are in my sight at all times. You don’t leave my sight without permission, and if you need to go somewhere, you give me an opportunity to determine the safety of it.”
“But we were just going down to the docks,” I insist angrily. “I go there all the time. I was with Marius, who would protect me. And I guarantee there were at least four of Dmitri’s crew outside, ready to follow at a distance.”
“Yes, you would have been so safe,” Jackson says dryly, bringing our dance to a sudden stop. His hands drop, and the areas of my body he’d been touching feel ice-cold now. “I imagine any one of those men protecting you could have stopped a sniper’s bullet fired from three buildings away.”
I blanch at the scenario, immediately dismissing it. “Who would want to kill me?” I demand. “I get I’m an ideal kidnapping target, but I’m worth more alive than dead.”
Jackson’s mouth snaps shut and he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t give me any plausible reason someone would want to kill me, but he also doesn’t give me any opportunity to push for an answer.
Instead, he nods across the way, and my gaze follows. It’s Marius, flirting with two women.
“If you and your boyfriend would like to go take that walk, I’ll be glad to escort you both. But you’ll need to pull him away from those women first.”
His tone sounds smug, almost victorious. Once again, I don’t correct him that Marius isn’t my boyfriend. I lift my chin and pin him with a confident smile. “Actually … I think I’d like to go home now if you can have the car brought around.”
Jackson inclines his head graciously. “As Your Highness desires.”