Christmas In The City (Imperfect Match 1.50)

ould see that having everything is not always enough?

“It’s time,” he says abruptly, looking at Maxim and no one else. “The car’s waiting.”

“Hell, I forgot.” Maxim grimaces and offers me an apologetic glance. “I have a meeting. I know it’s late, but this gentleman leaves the city tonight and won’t return until the New Year.”

“I understand,” I say, disappointed I won’t get to see the man with the bite much longer.

“Forgive my rudeness,” Maxim says. “Your Majesty, my friend Brock Grimsby, who also oversees security. Brock, Her Royal Highness Noelani, Queen of Manaroa.”

“Good evening, Your Majesty,” the mountain of a man murmurs in a voice that rolls over my nerve endings like hot oil.

My eyes snap to his face. I’m shocked, not because of what he said, but that he said it in near-flawless Manaroan.

“You speak our language?” I reply in kind, hoping I sound imperious and not breathless.

“I picked it up when I met a solider from your country a few years ago,” he replies, his words friendly enough, but his demeanor severe. “My family is Polynesian and I grew up in Hawaii. Hawaiian, along with English, is the state language. It’s very similar to Manaroan.”

He says all of this in Manaroan, and something about hearing my native tongue in a roomful of strangers on a foreign snowy night makes me homesick for my tropical kingdom.

“Grim, it’s rude to speak in a language we don’t understand,” Lennix chides.

“Grim?” I flick a glance up at the man towering over us all.

“The best he could come up with for a nickname,” Grim says in clipped English, nodding to Maxim. “The car’s waiting for you two. Rick will take you.”

Another man approaches. This one nondescript in that way so many security people strive to be, wearing a suit made for you to forget you ever saw it or the person wearing it.

“Rick,” Grim says. “Take Mr. Cade and Ms. Hunter to the car.”

“Yes, sir.” Rick stands by patiently while we say our goodbyes.

“We’ll see you tomorrow then,” Maxim says. “I believe your secretary has the details.”

“She always does.” I smile, even though disappointment lands like a stone in my belly. The most fascinating sight since I landed in this country, and I had two minutes with him.

“It was such a pleasure meeting you,” Lennix says. “And thank you again for all you shared in the council meetings.”

She dips her head in a bow, and on impulse, I take her hands and kiss her cheek. Manaroans are warm people, and we like to touch. I’ve missed that in this city where so many of the people I’ve met are as cold as the snow on the trees and the ice on the streets.

“It was lovely meeting you, Lennix.”

She smiles, and Maxim leads her away, a large, possessive hand at the small of her back, and Rick trailing them like a bulldog.

“Where is your security detail?”

It takes a moment for it to sink in that Grim’s still here and we’re standing alone. In a roomful of people, but in this tiny corner of the grand ballroom, alone.

“Oh.” I scan the room until I spot Hehu in conversation with a neighboring country’s prime minister, and Rangi, the guard who came in with us, beside him. “Over there.”

He glances across the room, following the direction of my nod. “Are they always so loose with your protection?”

“Loose?” A humorless laugh slips past my lips. “Unfortunately, no. The rest of the team is probably just beyond the ballroom. Most people here have security. It would get quite crowded if we all brought in our full entourages.”

“Unfortunately?” he asks, one thick, dark brow quirked. “You don’t like feeling safe?”

“There’s safe, and then there’s cloistered. The thing about sheltering someone so much that danger can’t get it, is that nothing gets in.”

“You know they’re just doing their jobs,” he says, his tone firm, but his eyes seem to gentle some as they scan my face.