Page 24 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
He dropped the pizza back in the box and scooped up his phone. “Hey, um… gotta take a call, and it might take a while, so I’m just going to… move to the couch.”
She stared at him in bewilderment, looking beautiful and utterly adorable with her legs tucked beneath her like a cat. The sight of her tore at something deep in his chest as he forced himself to turn away. Her inviting looks told him everything he needed to know—she’d been scared to marry him, and he’d sensed her nerves had been on edge at being alone with him tonight, but he’d also detected a gleam of curiosity when they’d locked gazes—he might even mistake that for… interest? Yeah, itwouldn’t have been long until they were drowning their sorrows in chocolate milk and even more sugary kisses.
“You’re leaving? On our wedding night?” Her voice was sharp with disbelief.
“Business call,” he said, already moving toward the door. “Can’t be helped.”
He noticed her shoulders stiffen in fury. “Okay, Scaredy cat… but this is a record… even for you!”
“What?”
“Breaking hearts then running away.” She stretched back against her pillows with feline grace, then shrugged with absolute indifference. “Too bad I don’t have one to break.”
His mouth went dry. The way she watched him like he was mildly entertaining, all while looking utterly untouchable—it was devastating. The only thing that gave away her depth of emotion was the flash in her golden eyes.
Yeah, seconds away from kissing. The smart thing would be to keep walking. The safe thing. The right thing.
Achilles closed the door behind him with the most decisive click in his life. He set up camp on the plush sofa in their sitting room, grabbing a throw pillow and trying to get comfortable on the expensive but unforgiving cushions. Bris deserved to be truly loved, thoroughly, and in every way.
What would it be like to be that man?
His eyes drifted to the closed bedroom door. He half laughed, half groaned.Venice… remember your promise to Venice!Bris would make him pay for taking a call on their wedding night, but she was a firecracker—one explosion and it was over. Venice… well, he was terrifying. His best friend was the type who took his revenge cold, carving it up methodically with his sharpest knife, and yeah, Achilles would be the Sunday roast in this analogy.
His phone buzzed in his hand like an angry wasp. For one terrible moment, he thought it was Charisse, until he saw hissister’s name flash across the screen. He answered immediately. “Gena!”
“A bodyguard, Achilles? Really? He’s following my every move. I can’t go anywhere without him insisting he tag along!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache building. “Yeah, well… things have changed.”
“I’ll say they have!” Gena shouted, her voice crackling through the phone. “You didn’t even invite me to the wedding. I had to find out through Deedee’s channel on TalkieTalk.” His stomach dropped like a stone. Gena wasn’t into social media—she barely tolerated having a phone. If she’d seen it already, how many millions of others had? “Are you really that afraid to be close to me that you wouldn’t tell me about your own wedding?”
“Wait… whoa!” Horror filled him at the suggestion, making his voice crack. “No, that is not why I did that.”
“You really hurt me, Achilles.” She sniffed and he could tell that she was crying, her voice thick with tears that made his chest ache.
“Hey, hey!” He’d always been helpless around tears, especially hers. “Gena, you know I love you more than anything. We’re going to figure this out, okay? You and me—we’re going to be okay.”
“Okay?” She shrieked, her voice climbing to a pitch that made him wince. “You know how to make things okay? Call back that man you have shadowing my every move.”
He groaned, running his free hand through his hair. He’d known this would be her reaction—Gena had always been fiercely independent, more likely to climb out a window than accept help. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Life isn’t going to be… the same—you’re going to be a target, and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
She turned silent, and somehow that was worse than the shouting.
“None of us saw this coming,” he said quietly.
True to Gena form, she picked up on his darkening mood immediately. “You don’t sound like yourself,” she said, her voice softening with concern. “Is it Bris? You know she’s crazy about you, right? If you break her heart…”
He cut her off before she could finish that threat. “I won’t.” His eyes ran back to the closed door, guilt twisting in his stomach. “Look, I’ll feel a whole lot better about this if I know you’re safe.”
“This bodyguard you put on me is going to make it impossible to do my job,” she grumbled, but he could hear her starting to cave. “Do you know what it will be like going into homes and helping kids pronounce their ‘r’s’ and ‘s’s’ while some burly guy is breathing down my neck?”
A deep, gravelly voice rumbled in the background: “I can wait in the car, My Lady.”
Achilles winced. The poor guy had probably gotten an earful when he came.
“Oh, now you back off!” Gena shot back at the bodyguard. “After ruining my date tonight!”
He groaned, feeling the ache spread down his neck. “Make it work, Gena.” His sympathy was waning, especially since he felt so helpless about all of this already. “For now… we can revisit this later when things start to calm down.”
