Bridget
I wokeup the next morning sore but smiling. I hadn’t woken up in such a good mood in ages, and it took me a minute to remember why.
Bits and pieces from last night came back to me, slowly at first, then all at once, and I blushed when I remembered the filthy things I’d said and done in this very room.
But I couldn’t stop smiling.
I need to make bucket lists more often.
I lingered in bed for a while, reluctant to break the dreamy haze enveloping me, but we were leaving today for New York and I needed to get up soon.
When I did, I found my travel clothes laid out for me on the dresser, and I realized the rest of the room was spotless. No wayward shoes littering the floor, no bikinis hanging over the chair or makeup scattered over the vanity.
Rhys must’ve finished packing for me. I’d crashed so hard I hadn’t even heard him.
My suspicions were confirmed when I went down to the living room, where I found him waiting next to our luggage. Gone were the casual T-shirts and board shorts he’d worn the past few days; in their place was his usual all-black outfit.
I felt a small pang in my chest. I missed Vacation Rhys already.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” he said without looking up from his phone. “Breakfast is ready in the kitchen. Our flight is at noon, so we should leave in the next forty-five minutes.”
My smile faded. Your Highness. Not even a princess.
We’d agreed to keep what happened last night to last night, but I hadn’t expected such a one-eighty so soon. Rhys was almost colder now than when we’d first met.
“Thank you.” I was so caught off guard I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “For packing and breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.”
My good mood from earlier drained away, but I hid my disappointment as I ate breakfast alone while Rhys checked to make sure everything in the house looked okay before we left.
He saved the kitchen for last, maybe because I was in there.
“Mr. Larsen.” It didn’t seem right to call him Rhys, given the chill hanging between us.
“Yes?” He opened the now-empty fridge and gave it a cursory scan before closing the door.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He tensed, and I couldn’t hold back a bitter smile.
“Not that kind of proposition,” I said. “And before I say it, I want you to know, it has nothing to do with…recent events.” I hoped I wasn’t making a fool of myself, but if I was, so be it. If I wanted something, I needed to voice it. Otherwise, I had no one to blame except myself when I was wracked with regrets over what-ifs. “You’re a good bodyguard, and I’m already going through enough changes with Nikolai’s abdication. I would like someone by my side who I’m comfortable with during the transition.”
Rhys was so still he resembled a statue.
“If I put in the request, I think the palace would be amenable to extending your contract until I’m more comfortable in my new role.” I took a deep breath. “It would mean you’d have to move to Eldorra temporarily, and I understand if that would be too much. But I wanted to give you the option. In case you wanted to stay.”
I hadn’t lied when I’d said it had nothing to do with last night. The idea had been brewing for weeks, and I’d kept putting it off. But we were getting down to the wire, and if I didn’t speak up now, it would never happen.
Rhys finally blinked. “When do you need an answer by?”
I fought back another wave of disappointment. Of course he needed to think about it. It was a huge commitment. But still, I’d thought…
“Within the next week, before your contract officially ends.”
He nodded, his expression neutral. “I’ll let you know my answer before the end of the week. Thank you for the opportunity.” Rhys left the kitchen, and I stared at the spot where he’d been standing.
That was it.
No smile, no hint as to whether he was happy or surprised or uncomfortable. Just I’ll let you know my answer before the end of the week, like we were nothing more than professional acquaintances.
I tried eating another bite of toast before I gave up and buried my face in my hands.
Bridget von Ascheberg, what have you done?
* * *