Page 43 of Royal Affair
Her proposition echoed in my mind—one night together, no strings attached. Her words had ignited something I couldn't extinguish, a powerful need that terrified me. I'd turned her down not because I didn't want her—Christ, I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anything—but because giving in would destroy whatever remained of my professional integrity.
And because she deserved better than a broken man with blood on his hands.
"Fine," I said curtly. "Three days. But if I find Halliwell's performance lacking in any way, I'm documenting it officially."
"As is your right," Dara conceded. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have the state dinner security arrangements to finalise."
I left without another word, striding down the palace corridor with barely contained fury. The conversation with Dara had been the final straw after last night's emotional minefield with Evangeline. Her proposition in the armoury still echoed in my mind, along with the hurt in her eyes when I'd walked away. I had to endure watching her at tonight's state dinner, knowing it might be one of the last times I'd see her.
Servants scurried out of my path, sensing the storm cloud around me. I needed to hit something—preferably Halliwell's perfect white teeth.
Instead, I found myself on the palace grounds, the crisp December air biting my skin. I walked without a destination, trying to clear my head of Evangeline—of her blue eyes watching me, her soft voice asking me to stay.
Just for tonight. Before you leave. Before everything goes back to the way it was.
I stopped by a frozen fountain, my breath clouding before me. What would happen if I gave in? If I went to her room tonight, would I take what she offered so freely?
The thought alone made my body respond, heat coursing through me despite the winter chill. I could almost feel her beneath me, her soft skin against mine, those perfect lips parting on a gasp as I?—
"Fuck," I muttered, driving the fantasy away before it consumed me. This was precisely why I needed to leave. The longer I stayed, the weaker my resolve became.
I turned back toward the palace, where the staff was preparing for the Christmas state dinner. Another tedious royal function where I'd stand in the background watching Evangeline shine from afar. Only this time, I'd also have to endure Roger Halliwell's insufferable presence.
Perfect.
The state dinner was every bit the nightmare I'd anticipated. I stood against the wall in the grand dining room, watching two hundred of Bellavista's elite making small talk over seven courses of pretentious food. Evangeline sat at the royal table.
"Pretty impressive spread, huh?" Halliwell sidled up beside me, champagne flute in hand. I gave him a sidelong glance, noting the expensive tuxedo that fit him too perfectly, the perfectly styled hair, the Rolex that caught the light with every gesture.
"You shouldn't be drinking on duty," I said flatly.
He laughed as if I'd made a joke. "Relax, Banks. It's sparkling water. I'm not an amateur." He took a sip to prove his point. "Besides, look at this room. The biggest threat here is someone choking on a lobster tail."
"The biggest threat," I said through gritted teeth, "is assuming there is no threat."
Halliwell rolled his eyes. "You old-school guys are all the same. Doom and gloom. This is a cushy assignment—beautiful princess, fancy parties, exotic locales. A hell of a lot better than babysitting some paranoid tech CEO who thinks his competitors are poisoning his kombucha."
I remained silent, counting backwards from ten to avoid grabbing him by the throat.
"Speaking of beautiful," Halliwell continued, oblivious to my growing rage, "the princess is something else, isn't she? Those legs, that arse—perfect for a man to?—"
Without a word, I seized him by the throat, my fingers digging into his windpipe with precise pressure. His eyes bulged as I dragged his body behind the heavy velvet curtains, throwing him against the stone wall with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs.
Before he could recover, my forearm slammed across his throat, pinning him in place. My other hand found his right thumb, bending it back to the breaking point. The pain froze him instantly.
"Listen carefully, you worthless piece of shit," I hissed, my face inches from his. "If I ever hear you speak about PrincessEvangeline like that again, I will break every bone in your body, starting with your fingers, your arms, your legs, and finally your fucking neck."
The pressure of my arm made his face turn purple, veins bulging as he struggled to breathe. I eased up just enough to let him gasp, not out of mercy, but so he could hear what came next.
"She is royalty. She is your principal. And I swear on my life, if you so much as look at her wrong, they will never find all the pieces of your body." I applied more pressure to his thumb, feeling the joint strain. "I've killed men for less than what you just said. I've buried men who thought they could disrespect what's mine to protect."
"Jesus—Banks—" he choked, genuine terror in his eyes.
I released his thumb only to grab his jaw, forcing his head back against the wall. "I'm staying in Bellavista for a few days after the handover. I will be watching your every move. One mistake, one inappropriate comment, one second of unprofessional behaviour, and I will end your miserable existence. Do we understand each other?"
He nodded frantically, and I released him with a shove. Halliwell straightened his tuxedo, breathing hard, all his swaggering bravado gone.
"Jesus, Banks. You're fucking insane. What is she to you, anyway?"
