Dirty Dealers

Logan

The waters of Occitan are emerald blue and clear as crystal. I stand at the broad French doors on the balcony of the royal estate and look down on the small family I’ve been trusted to guard, mother and child.

I’ve been with them for almost a year now, ever since Zelda Wilder ran away from Monagasco, leaving her younger sister Ava behind with the crown prince. A lot has changed since that day last spring when I was sent after her, to find her, to protect her and ultimately to bring her back.

For starters, the crown prince is now the king, Ava is now his wife, making her the queen regent, and I’m in his office waiting to request a release from this assignment. My time is done, the threat is neutralized, and I need a change.

I watch as Ava lifts her baby niece into the air, laughing and gently rocking her side to side. As queen regent, Ava is always refined and elegant, but when her sister visits, she becomes a completely different person—she

becomes more like Zee.

Formal gowns and designer dresses are discarded in favor of bikinis and cut-offs, and the two spend every day here beside the ocean, running around the grounds barefooted.

I confess, I like them better this way. It tugs at old memories I thought I’d put behind me long ago.

The little girl squeals with delight, and Ava lowers her so their noses touch. Belle’s chubby hands grasp her aunt’s pretty face. She’s a sweet baby with a halo of pale blonde curls around her small face. She’s Zelda and Cal’s child, and she’s part of the reason I can no longer guard their family.

I got too close. I let my feelings get involved, and now I can’t be around them without wanting things I can never have. It’s inappropriate and unprofessional, and it goes against everything I vowed to uphold when I entered the service.

“It’s a beautiful day, Logan,” Rowan’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Why such an angry expression?”

My brow immediately relaxes, and I turn away from the door, bowing to the king. “Your majesty,” I say.

“I think we can be a little less formal, considering all we’ve been through.” He reaches out to give my hand a firm shake, patting my shoulder at the same time.

The king and I are equally matched in height. We both have the dark hair and blue eyes of our country’s heritage. Our only noticeable difference is my muscle mass, which serves two purposes—it gives me a more intimidating appearance to potential attackers, and it relieves the tension of suppressing these feelings. The burn of pumping hundreds of pounds of steel takes the edge off the constant longing and regret.

God, I need a break.

“What’s on your mind?” Rowan’s voice is controlled, and he moves with the calm dignity of his position as leader of our tiny nation-state by the sea. He’s so different from his brother.

“With all due respect, sir, I’m here to ask you to release me from service.”

He’s visibly taken aback. “You want to retire? But why?”

“I’d like to go to Italy… Perhaps join the foreign legion.” My answer is mostly true.

“And start all over again? In the desert?”

I understand his disbelief. Six years ago, when I entered our country’s military, I’d had nothing—no money, no clear goal. I thought being a part of the guard, defending our way of life, was a noble endeavor. Monagasco is small, but we have a long history holding the border between France and Italy. For eight hundred years we’ve been one of the richest countries in western Europe.

It was a smart choice. Apparently my temperament is exactly right for the service. I’m focused, controlled, and it’s only taken me a few short years to rise to the top of the food chain. I serve directly under the king, I earn more money than I have time to spend, and I travel everywhere the royal family goes…

Now, all I want is to get out.

Rowan laughs, momentarily breaking the tension. “So you’ve had a taste of adventure. Now your work here is too boring for you. Is that it?”

“Not at all.” It’s true the events of the past year have been dramatically more exciting than my usual role, lurking in the background, shadowing the royal family, but I don’t care for such high stakes.

I don’t like finding mutilated bodies in seedy motel rooms. I don’t like knowing that one wrong choice could mean finding the queen’s sister in a body bag. We’d been lucky in our last job.

“What is it, then?”

Hands in my pockets, I step away from the patio doors. “The job is over. Matters here are under control, and I’d like to travel… while I still can.”

For a moment, he only regards me, steel eyes slightly narrowed. Then he shakes his head, and my insides tighten. “I’m sorry, Logan. I won’t accept your resignation.”

“You must.” My tone is sharp, and my gaze instantly drops. “Forgive me, your highness, but you must.”