Twisted Games: A Forbidden Royal Bodyguard Romance

“Five days in paradise,” I drawled. “Swimming, sunbathing, fucking—”
“Rhys.”
“What, you don’t like the itinerary?”
“Lower your voice,” she hissed, her face the color of the tomatoes on her plate. “People will hear.”
“No one’s listening.”

Jules sighed. “Tell your man he’s hot as hell but a total buzzkill.”

“He’s not my man. He’s my bodyguard.” I lowered my voice, but I thought I saw Rhys pause for a millisecond before he resumed polishing his knife.

“Even worse. He’s running your life and you’re not getting any dick from it.”

“Jules.”

“In Costa Rica, you asked if I’d ever been in love. I said no.” I lowered my head until our foreheads touched and her lips were scant inches from mine. “Ask me again.”

It was the same request I’d made at the hospital, but this time, Bridget didn’t break our gaze as she asked, “Have you ever been in love, Mr. Larsen?”

“Only once.” I slid my hand up from her neck to the back of her head, cupping it. “And you, princess. Have you ever been in love?”

“Only once,” she whispered.

I exhaled sharply her words sank into my soul, filling cracks I hadn’t known existed.

Until Bridget, I’d never loved or been loved, and I finally understood what the fuss was about. It was better than any bulletproof armor or oblivion I found at the bottom of the bottle during my short-lived affair with alcohol.

Alcohol was for numbing, and I didn’t want to be numb. I wanted to feel every goddamn thing with her