Page 42 of The Prince and the Bodyguard
So I’d have to keep my distance from Eddie, had to hold the line. I had to make sure my parents wouldn’t even catch a whiff of what had happened between us.
Besides, this wasn’t real. Whatever intimacy Eddie and I had been building, whatever soft feelings I had for him, it existed in a fantasy world that had nothing to do with our actual lives. He was a prince, and when this assignment ended, Eddie would go back to his royal duties and his palace life, probably with a suitable partner chosen by his family. And I’d go back to the Secret Service, hopefully after paying off my parents’ debt and with a recommendation from the British, and that would be that.
There was no future for us.
Hell, there wasn’t even anus.
The sooner I accepted that reality, the better off we’d both be.
By the time we landed in North Carolina, I’d managed to shift back into professional mode. It wasn’t easy. Every time Eddie smiled at me or made some casual comment, I had to remind myself that this was work, not a romantic getaway. But I’d done it before, compartmentalizing my feelings when a job required it, and I could do it again. Semper Fi meant something, and that included putting duty before desire.
Even if it felt like swallowing glass every time I had to step back from the intimacy we’d been building.
“You’ve gotten quiet,” Eddie observed as we disembarked from the plane. “Everything alright?”
“Just thinking about the next few days,” I said, which was true enough. “Making sure I have all the logistics worked out.”
What I didn’t say was that I’d been thinking about how to survive four days of pretending Eddie meant nothing more to me than a professional obligation.
The rental car was waiting for us—a basic SUV that felt painfully ordinary after the private jet, but it wouldn’t stand out. As we drove through the familiar countryside, I relaxed slightly. These roads I knew, this landscape I understood. Whatever else was complicated about this situation, at least I was back on familiar ground.
“It’s beautiful,” Eddie said, looking out at the rolling farmland and dense pine forests. “Very different from the Pacific Northwest.”
“Different from England too, I imagine.”
“Yes, though there’s something about the countryside that feels familiar. The sense of history, of families living in the same place for generations.”
He wasn’t wrong. We passed farms that had been in the same families for a century, small towns where everybody knew everybody else’s business, the kind of rooted community that probably felt both foreign and appealing to someone from Eddie’s background.
“There,” I said, turning into the long driveway to my parents’ house. “That’s home.”
The house I’d grown up in looked smaller than I remembered, though that might’ve been perspective. It was a modest ranch-style home on about five acres of land, with a detached garage that served as Dad’s workshop and a vegetable garden that Mama tended with religious devotion. Not much to look at compared to whatever palaces Eddie was used to, probably but it had been in my family for four generations and had been my home for twenty-six years.
I’d texted them our time of arrival, so both my parents were waiting on the front porch when we parked in front of the garage. Mama was wearing her best dress, the one she saved for church and special occasions, prettier than Sunday morning. Dad had clearly made an effort with his appearance as well, trading his usual jeans and T-shirt for slacks and a button-down shirt.
“They’re nervous,” I explained as I turned off the engine. “They’ve never met royalty before.”
“I’ll try to put them at ease.”
Something in his voice made me look at him more carefully. He looked calm, composed, every inch the gracious prince I’d seen him be with professors and university administrators.
We got out of the car, and I led Eddie toward the porch, my heart racing as my two worlds collided. I hugged my mom fiercely. I studied her for a few seconds once I let go. She’d definitely lost some weight, but she had color in her face and her eyes were sharp. “So good to see you, Mama. You look well.”
“I’m feeling good today, honey. And I’m so tickled you’re home.”
“Me too, Mama.”
“Good to see you, son,” my dad said as we exchanged a firm handshake. “Glad you could make it home.”
I heard what he didn’t say: that it meant a lot to my mom.
“Mama, Dad, I’d like you to meet Prince Gregory.”
Eddie stepped forward with that natural grace that probably came from a lifetime of formal introductions, offering a slight bow to my mom that managed to be respectful without seeming excessive. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Puller.”
“Likewise, Your Highness,” Mama said, and I could hear the nerves in her voice despite her attempt at formality.
“Please, call me Gregory,” Eddie said warmly, taking her offered hand. “Or Eddie, as that’s the undercover name I’m using. I’m deeply grateful for your hospitality in welcoming me to your home.”
