Page 59 of Royal Agenda

“Trust me. I wish you were at the bottom of the ocean, too.” Ryker finished sweeping up after the last appointment in preparation for his next one. The new shaving cream and after-shave honey products arrived this morning, and he was anxious to try them on Griff who complained after every appointment that his scalp ached or itched or sometimes both.

Sean occupied himself by doing knife tricks with his five-inch diving blade. Actually, Ryker changed his mind, Sean entertained himself by making Ryker’s clients nervous by doing knife tricks with his five-inch diving blade. They stared at him in the mirror, their eyes wide and flinching every time he pretended to fumble and recover.

The knife tricks did not bother Ryker. He had not been able to talk to Grace and he missed her. It made him grumpy.

“Grandpa’s calling.” Sean stood up. “I’ll take it in the hallway.”

“Do not hurry back!” Ryker called after him.

As they had three thousand times in the last three days, his thoughts jumped to Grace. He wondered what she was doing, if her classes went well, if she’d been able to locate the grandfather for one of her clients, if she planned another trip, if she was thinking about him as he thought of her.

He wanted her.

He wanted her laughter. The world, his life, and the universe were brighter when she laughed. Her blue eyes sparkled and he felt as if his soul expanded.

He missed her wit. She did not shy away from teasing him, in Italian most times. The way her lips created words was enchanting. After one conversation, she had picked up his accent like a chameleon. She had given a hilarious impersonation of Mack’s brogue one afternoon that positively delighted him.

His mother would love her.

She was kind to others, listened intently, noted and complemented their strengths. All who attended her class left feeling competent and capable. She had a gift to empower others.

She would make a wonderful princess.

Sean returned, looking sheepish with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Che cosa?” Ryker asked. Sean wasn’t the type to be embarrassed.

Sean smiled, and alarms went off in Ryker’s head. “Wipe that frown off your face–we’re going bowling with Grandpa and his friends tonight.”

Ryker scoffed. “I do not want to go bowling.” He did not want to go anywhere—except to see Grace. And since he was—possibly—in danger and would therefore put her in danger, he could not visit her.

There was also his obnoxiously friendly bodyguard to consider. How would he whisper sweet words of apology into her beautiful ear with Sean standing five feet away, ready to burst into the conversation with one of his jokes? This was not how apologizing to a beautiful woman was done.

With his phone in Liam’s care, he had no way to communicate with la sua sirena, and it was killing him. The taste of freedom Grace had given him was enough to make him yearn for more. Just at the moment he had seen the light, the coffin lid slammed shut above him.

Stupid bounty hunter.

The bounty hunter had woken up with Sweetie on his chest and told them the price on Ryker’s head: a cool million American dollars. He claimed he did not know who put the hit out. After some research, Liam found that he was a professional who took jobs all over the world, but had never been caught. He also claimed he wasn’t going to kill Ryker–just knock him out and haul him back to the dropoff point.

They’d turned the man over to the Navy Police for further questioning. Mack did not believe they would get any more information from him than Sweetie had when she’d opened her mouth wide and yawned. The bounty hunter did not know it was a yawn and barked like a sea lion. Apparently, in all his “years” he’d never come face to face with as many teeth.

“I’m Grandpa’s favorite and I’d like to keep it that way.” Sean grinned but ran his hand through his thick, dark hair—clearly a genetic gift from Don. Something he did often whenever his Grandpa Don came up.

“You will go bald doing that,” Ryker warned him.

He stopped and glared. “You’re messing with me.”

Ryker lifted a shoulder. “Continue doing it and see how that works out for you.” He turned away to hide the grin that threatened to appear.

He went to the mirror and checked his hairline. Giving Ryker a smirk.

Griff came in and sat down without so much as a hello. For him, a visit to the barber was as bad as seeing his dentist.

Ryker went to work trying the honey-scented products on Griff’s head. Twenty minutes later, Griff was done. There was no itching, no sense of tightness, and overall a nice shine. “I think you found a winner,” Griff pronounced.

Ryker half-smiled. He had found a winner in Grace but she was as out of reach as a magical moon shell. For now. He was not a man who gave up easily. “I will order more of their products I think.”

He hurried through his next two clients until his shop was blessedly client-free, then cleaned up.

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