He’d managed not to talk about it for a whole three days, before Toni brought up the coming fiasco…at the most inconvenient time.

“So, explain to me again why your mother marrying her Science Advisor is such a bad idea?” She feinted twice, her left fist darting out on “mother” and “bad.”

Alek narrowed his eyes, his fists held up to block, and absently grunted, “No.”

She danced back, her own lovely blue eyes widening at his blunt denial. He liked it when he could manage to surprise her. She was always so sure of herself—especially when they sparred here in the palace’s gym—and always so ready to get the drop on him. But he wasn’t going to let that happen today.

She must’ve recovered, because she moved back into her fighting stance—a mix between three martial arts styles and what he swore had to be some kind of ballet move.

“Why not?” she asked as she circled him.

He kept his shoulders loose and his knees bent as he turned to keep her in front of him. “Because you’ll use my distraction to attack.”

When one corner of her lips tugged upwards in that lopsided grin of hers, Alek knew he’d guessed correctly. It had taken a few months of sparring with her to understand her tactics, but now that he did, he was determined not to let her have an advantage over him. It was bad enough the woman could land him on his ass four out of five times, even without distractions. Whatever the US Army had taught her, she’d expanded on it. He’d seen her drop Rogers too, and the other bodyguard weighed twice as much as her.

“So…” She danced behind him, and he twisted to follow. “You can’t manage a conversation without being distracted?”

She was doing it again. He merely grunted in response, and kept his eyes on her collarbone, a better indicator of when she was going to attack than watching her fists or her face.

So when she stepped in for two jabs at his stomach and one at his face, he was ready and blocked all three…but not without stumbling backwards two steps. She followed, that lopsided grin growing.

“One day your mother is going to turn this whole country over to you, Prince Alek.” She stalked towards him, her fists raised as if she were about to attack. “And it seems like a shame if you can’t hold a conversation and defend yourself at the same time. Seems like you should be able to handle more than one thing at once.”

Despite knowing what she was trying to do—he had five younger brothers who’d spent their lives trying to annoy him, for godsakes!—Alek flushed, partly in embarrassment and partly in anger. She knew as well as anyone—better, since she was with him so often!—that he was perfectly capable of running this country, and to say otherwise was an insult of the greatest level.

“How dare you—”

Her foot lashed out, aimed for his knee, and he lunged at the last moment to catch the blow on his thigh.

Damn. He’d fallen for her distraction again.

And yeah, there was that triumphant twinkle in her eyes as she spun around, probably ready to launch one of her leaping kicks at his head or his shoulder. She thought she’d won already.

Well, screw that. He was already in the correct position, so he stepped into her reach, instead of out of it, and just as she twisted in midair to throw her weight behind her kick, he grabbed her around the waist.

They both froze.

Part of him had known she could easily turn his momentum against him, tossing him head over heels. But a larger, and considerably more virile, part of him had wondered what it would feel like to touch her skin like this.

Pretty damn good, apparently.

They stood in tableau for a long moment, and Alek swore he could see her pulse pounding in her throat. She wore her usual capris and sleeveless shirt; one side had lifted when he grabbed her, and he could feel the warmth of her stomach under his palm. But instead of punching him—Alek felt like he could be knocked out by a feather right now—Toni just stared at him.

Say something witty. Something that makes you sound like a prince, not an idiot! He wracked his brain, but couldn’t come up with anything beyond “duuuurrrrr.”

Not quite the image he was going for. Not quite the way he wanted to impress her.

Wait, I want to impress my bodyguard?

Before he could fully examine that thought, Toni’s tongue flicked out over her lower lip, and Alek nearly groaned aloud. Who would’ve thought a woman who routinely kicked his butt when they sparred could look so damn sexy, dripping sweat and breathing heavily?

“Your Highness, you gunna let me down?”

She sounded so much like an American—a cowboy from an old movie—Alek had to smile. He knew Toni was perfectly capable of sounding formal when the situation called for it…but apparently that wasn’t when she was being held off the ground by her employer. He liked that he could fluster her as much as she flustered him.

“Nah,” he drawled in his best John Wayne impression. “I like having you at my mercy.”

She burst into laughter—whether from his ridiculous attempt at an American accent, or the idea she could be at his mercy, Alek didn’t know. Her laughter shook her whole body, and he was struck by the difference between her and Marcia. While he’d never held his almost-fiancée off the ground during a sparring match—she wasn’t the type to even watch a sparring match!—she’d been in his arms several times, and she didn’t feel like this.

Marcia was beautiful and poised, the perfect prince’s wife. Toni was loud and hard and dangerous…and he was glad she was on his side.

That’s when she punched him in the ear.

Seriously, mid-laugh, she hauled off and punched—maybe that was a slap?—him right in the side of the face. She followed up that move by twisting out of his grip, doing some kind of weird ninja flip in midair, and kicked him in the stomach on her way down.

Dammit, I fell for it again?

“Ow.” That was all Alek could manage, hunched over the way he was.

Toni, of course, landed upright out of arms’ reach, and bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. “Couldn’t let you go thinking you had me at your mercy, Alek.”

He held up one hand while he breathed heavily through his nose, letting her know he wasn’t done…he just needed to get his breath back. The other hand drifted unconsciously to his ear, and when he glanced at his fingertips he was pleased to see he wasn’t bleeding. Not that he was surprised; he trusted her enough not to harm him permanently during practice, and a broken eardrum could cause some issues…

“You ready to go again?” She danced back and forth a little, her hands raising to her usual “ready” position.

He righted himself. “Yeah, yeah.” This wasn’t hard work—this wasn’t even one of her early-morning treadmill runs she’d started him on months ago—but that blow to his stomach had left him breathing heavily. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She laughed again and launched a series of blows and kicks. For a few minutes, all of Alek’s attention was focused on blocking and returning the punches, living in the moment. He spun and lunged, careful to maintain his center of balance throughout, and soon they were both sucking in air through their noses and grinning as they tried their damnedest to hurt one another.

Blocking one of his blows, Toni grabbed his forearm and spun away from him, her outside leg already up to deliver a vicious kick to the back of his head if he didn’t move in time. He did, ducking under her foot and punching upwards. She fell back, hopping slightly, and launched two quick kicks to his bicep and shoulder. But thanks to his blow, they lacked strength, and he was able to swat her foot away.

They fell apart, breathing heavily, and he realized he liked the way she was grinning. Not her usual corner-of-her-lips turned up, but a full-on grin. He returned it.

“Had enough?” he asked imperiously.

“Hell, no!” she replied in that brash American way, and threw herself forward once more.

He managed to land a few punches this time, but she merely grunted and danced out of the way, spinning and returning his blows with kicks of her own. He couldn’t kick nearly as well as she did, but he was bigger and could absorb more. She didn’t absorb his punches; she found a way to turn the momentum and energy against him, but he’d gotten good at seeing the move she was about to make and avoiding it.

As long as she wasn’t trying to engage him in conversation, he could hold his own in a sparring match against Toni. In fact… He stepped into one of her blows, so her fist glanced off his bicep, and wrapped one arm around her waist. With the material at the back of her shirt wrapped in one fist, he twisted and spun her out away from him.

I can be sneaky too.

But she was chuckling again, as she spun to a stop. “Good move, Your Highness.”

He gave a mock bow, feeling his own chuckle trying to climb up his throat. “Thanks. I figured you were nimble on your feet, and could handle it.”

She went up on one set of toes. “It’s all a kind of dance, really.”

Alek had to force his eyes away from her calf, flexing to hold herself upright. Not just because it was an impressive feat of strength, but because he wasn’t supposed to be admiring his bodyguard’s legs. Or waist, or the way she laughed with all of her being, or the way that shirt molded to her sports bra…

And good thing too, because she used his distraction to throw herself forward once more.

As he blocked her attack and skipped away from her—careful to remain inside the taped circle on the ground to delineate the fight’s boundaries—he reflected that more than the exercise regimen she’d put him on, more than their daily sparring matches, Toni had taught him something really important: being distracted is dangerous. He could be single-minded when it came to politics or economics, but somehow she managed to distract him.

It was inconvenient.

Her grin was back as she twisted and jabbed, and one time dropped to her hands to sweep his feet out from underneath him. And when he jumped straight up to evade, and brought his heel down for the back of her neck, forcing her to roll out of the way, he realized he was grinning too.

“See, Your Highness?” She was panting when she jumped back up to her feet. “It’s all a dance.” A quick one-two jab, her still smiling. “We punch and block and twist and move—”

She spun, her foot out, and he caught her ankle before it drove into his side.

Another moment of stillness, while she waited for him to throw her. Instead, he finished her sentence. “Together.”

Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, and Alek knew his matched hers. It had been a good workout. He couldn’t imagine doing something like this with Marcia.

“Together.” She nodded. “You’re a good dance partner.”

One of his brows rose, and he felt her pulse pounding through her ankle under his fingertips. “I don’t see how. You keep kicking my ass.”

Her lips pursed, and he wondered if she was trying not to laugh at him. “True. But your size makes us well-matched. I get a better workout with you than with Rogers or Karanov, because I have to take them out fast or get beaten to a pulp.”

Alek resisted the urge to run his hand up her calf, reminding himself he was practically engaged. Instead, he lifted her foot a little higher, forcing her to go up on her tiptoes if she wanted to maintain her balance.

“I can’t decide if you just complimented me by saying I’m a good partner, or insulted me because I can’t beat you to a pulp.”

Under that shaggy blonde short hair—sweaty now from their workout—her blue eyes widened mischievously. “You are my employer.”

“And thus responsible for your health care bills.”

“Yeah,” she drawled. “And I can’t afford to insult you. No matter if I can take you out with one hand tied behind my back.”

Tough words for a woman whose leg was being held four feet off the ground. Still, Alek’s growl wasn’t serious when he pushed her away. “I liked it better when you were complimenting my dancing skills.”

She kept her balance—of course—as she brought both feet together. “Just different kinds of dance, sir.”

Yeah. His smile was a little tighter when he nodded in agreement. She was an American, raised on a ranch out in the Wild West. She’d gone into the army, she’d learned all this kung-fu business…she kept her hair cut military-short, she wore her black uniform and carried her weapon like she was born with it.

He was the crown prince of a nation, next in line to rule. The latest in a forty-generation line dating back to Magnus the Great, and had been raised knowing his position and his power. His poise, his responsibility.

Different kinds of dance, indeed. He knew all the steps for his kinds of dances—the waltz, the foxtrot, even the tango. But this? He wasn’t sure he knew how to dance with her.

“You’re distracted again, Alek,” she cautioned as she stepped towards him.

The warning blinked him back to reality. Damn. How come he only did that around her? He lifted his hands to block whatever she threw his way, but to his surprise, her hands were loose by her sides. Another trick? But she was still coming closer, only a step or two away. He didn’t want to back up, to give ground…but what was she planning?

Toni stopped in front of him when she was close enough to touch. Close enough that if they both took a deep breath at the same time, their chests would brush against one another. And Alek had the almost-overwhelming urge to try.

“Alek…”

The way she drawled out his name as she blinked up at him made him realize his mind had wandered yet again.

Instead of admitting his fault though, he merely raised a brow down at her.

Her little lopsided smile should’ve been his first warning.

Her little wink should’ve been his second.

But she still took him by surprise when she hooked her knee around his, pulled him off-balance, and threw her weight against him.

“Think fast,” she whispered just as they hit the floor, a tangle of arms and legs.

 

 

The man was just too darn dreamy for his own good. And not just dreamy in that “Oh-Em-Gee, he’s got a dimple!” sort of way she giggled about with her sister, but dreamy in a “get your head out of the clouds, dude” way. Which was funny, because everyone else in this kingdom thought he was a focused and devoted leader.

In fact, when Toni had first started working for him, she’d thought Prince Alek was a total stick in the mud. He didn’t know how to relax or have fun or joke about anything. She remembered complaining to her little sister, Lin, back in Idaho about how Alek was so wrapped up in his own importance and devotion to duty.

But now that she knew the man, she knew he was only that way because he was devoted to duty. He wasn’t that way for his own glory, but because he cared so deeply about his country. Only problem was, all of that went out the window when he was sparring with her. She had to actively work to keep his attention focused on her next blow…because no matter how satisfying it was to beat an opponent, it was a little embarrassing when it was your employer. A prince.

Still, that didn’t stop her from taking advantage of it. She liked the way he looked down at her like he was trying to figure out what she was up to…right before she hooked him and slammed him down against the floor.

She couldn’t contain the wince, either. Not just because she went down hard with him—bouncing off his chest, to be exact—but because his head clonked against the floor loud enough for her to hear.

“Are you alright?” She lifted herself up on her palms—still pressed against his chest, which she tried not to notice thankyouverymuch—and peered anxiously down at him.

His grey eyes sharpened. “Did you just barrel into me like we were brawling?”

If he was well enough to snap at her… “Oh, is that what I did? Barreled into you?”

“Yes,” he said archly.

“Then, yep.” Her smile was fake, but bright. “Just like we’re brawling.” Leaning a little closer, she lowered her voice. “Anything’s fair in war, Your Highness. You’ve gotta be ready.”

To her surprise, she felt his hands clasp around her upper arms. What was he—?

With a quiet grunt, Alek lifted his hips and twisted on one elbow, and then she was pinned beneath him.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been pinned under a man. Heck, it wasn’t even the hundredth time; she’d sparred enough and lost enough that she knew all the best ways to get up from under an opponent.

But it was the first time since the assault that she didn’t feel…dirty being under a man. This was the first time where her first instinct wasn’t to freeze, then to buck wildly to remove him. This was the first time where the feel of his muscles and the warmth of his skin made her want…

More.

“I believe the phrase is ‘All’s fair in love and war,’ Dryden.” He was smirking down at her, and oh dear God his dimple was showing.

She was in trouble.

From far away, someone began to clap, and Alek blinked, the spell broken.

The mocking call came from the other side of the gym.“It’s about time! I thought she was going to kick your butt from here to Oslo and back again!”

Alek rolled off her, and offered her a hand up. Toni, still feeling a little weak-kneed, accepted his help and gladly let him pull her to her feet. Across the room, someone laughed at his own joke, and she watched Alek scowl at one of his brothers.

It was hard to tell which one, but judging from the fact the man was strapped into a climbing harness and was dangling by one hand three stories off the ground, it had to be Kristoff. That prince spent more time in the gym—and dangling from cliffs, swimming across open water, sailing out in the bay, and hang gliding—than anyone else in the kingdom. Apparently he didn’t mind spying on others while he did it, either.

“Just ignore him,” Alek muttered under his breath as he stalked towards the benches. Some servant always made sure there was cucumber water—I could get used to this royal treatment!—and folded towels after their sparring matches. “He’ll go away.”

Toni, still trying to understand her body’s reaction to him, followed at a more sedate pace. “I’m not so sure. He’s busy.”

Alek snorted as he rubbed a towel over his short hair and neat beard, then left it dangling around his shoulders. “Nah. He’s really just hanging around.”

The pun was delivered in such a dry tone, it took Toni a moment to get it. When she did, she stopped in her tracks and groaned out loud, adding in an exaggerated eye roll for good measure. He smirked and tossed a fresh towel to her, which she grabbed and used to wipe the sweat off her face and neck.

Their after-sparring cool-down routine was familiar, and they did their stretches in companionable silence. Toni did her best not to stare at his butt, or his muscles, or his—

Eyes front, Dryden.

“So…” She needed something to talk about, so she didn’t have to think about the way it felt to be under him, and how disturbing it was to feel that way about her boss. “Now can you explain why your mother marrying her Science Advisor is such a bad idea?”

Alek grunted, pulling his elbow in a stretch. “They’re not…well suited.”

“Why not? Because he’s a scientist and she’s queen? Are they in love?”

“Love is irrelevant when it comes to royal marriages.”

The surety in his voice made Toni look up in surprise from where she was sitting on the floor mat. He really believed that?

“Love is relevant to all marriages.” She thought about her little sister Lin, so in love with her new husband Brandon, and building a life together out in Idaho. “It’s essential.”

“No, it’s not.” Smoothly, Alek moved into another stretch. “Royal marriages are about compatibility, and alliances. They’re about public image.”

Her mouth dropped open. What? This isn’t the medieval ages! “And…” She had to clear her throat, she was so incredulous. “And you don’t think her Science Advisor is a good, ah…public image?”

He grunted again. “Dr. William Hayes might be brilliant, but he’s a bumbling American fool who doesn’t know a thing about court life. He’s a terrible match for my mother.”

Her eyes had widened at “American.” Did he consider all Americans fools? Beneath him? Well, you were beneath him a minute ago, girl. She scoffed at that part of her brain. Quit reminding me.

But was it the being American part which made Dr. Hayes unsuitable for Queen Viktoria? Or the bumbling part? Or was there more Alek hadn’t mentioned? Toni grabbed her foot and pulled, stretching the muscles in the back of her leg. Why was Alek objecting so vehemently to this match?

And how come he was so adamant that love didn’t have a place in royal marriages?

She wanted to ask, but despite their closeness of a minute ago, despite the fact he was speaking to her as an equal, it wasn’t her place. He was the crown prince of Aegiria.

And she was just his bodyguard.