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At least toward this woman.
In general, I try to keep his jackass tendencies in check, but there’s something in particular about him being a jerk to this woman that rankles.
Maybe it's because she is as much a victim in this situation as he is. Her grandfather was in on the stupid poker game that resulted in their arranged marriage as much as Diarmuid was. Just because she's a better sport than Torin doesn't mean that she doesn't deserve to be treated with respect.
So I walk next to her. Not just because it's polite, but because it also keeps me from looking at her ass.
Yes, I looked at it when she was walking out of my bedroom. Sue me. I was standing there naked, and she's a gorgeous woman with a nice ass.
I won't make that mistake again. Like checking her out in the black sheath dress that hugs her curves even better than the silky pants she'd had on earlier. And the fucking heels she’s wearing tonight. These are three inchers, and I still know that if I stood right next to her, she would not quite reach my shoulder.
I step to the doorway, not needing to open it for her, but gesturing for her to precede me into the room. Because I'm a fucking gentleman.
She glances up at me, then quickly away.
She's been doing that all night. Sitting across from her at dinner, I couldn't help but notice how she would steal glances and quickly look away as soon as I met her gaze.
She was picturing me naked.
There's no doubt in my mind.
Of course she was. I would've been doing the same thing if I had been the one who walked in on her ironing her clothes in the nude.
Not that I would ever do that. I know who is staying in every single room in this palace, and at any given time, I know if they are actuallyinthose rooms or not. I’m head of security. I take my job seriously.
There will never be a time when I walk in on Lady Linnea naked. At least not accidentally.
I shut that down right away.
There's no time I'm going to see her nakedpurposefully,either.
Definitely not that.
Whether or not Torin wants to be married to her, is in love with her, or even eventually somehow gets out of this engagement, it would be completely inappropriate for me to start anything with her.
As if she would even consider that.
I'm a bodyguard. I might be a step up or two from…I don’t know, “the help”, maybe…but I am definitely not the guy a duchess is going to be getting romantic with.
I shut the door behind us and watch my best friend cross to his desk. He sighs, shrugs out of his jacket, and rolls up the sleeves on his shirt. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button as if he's just horribly uncomfortable in general. He comes around the front of his desk and leans back on it, placing his hands on either side of his hips, clearly trying for a casual pose. Finally, he makes eye contact with Linnea. Who was standing perfectly still, her fingers linked in front of her, dressed impeccably and looking very—yes, I’m going to say it again—regal.
“I apologize if I insulted you,” he starts.
I'm proud of him.
She tips her head. “I appreciate that.”
“Of course you are an excellent representative for Cara.”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn't need to. That's just a statement of fact.
This woman has lived in Cara for the past eleven years, while Torin has been in the United States. She’s been doing the things that Diarmuid would've liked hisgrandchildren, the heirs to the throne, to be doing. She is the youthful face of the leadership in the country. To the people of the country as well as the world.
Cara is a tiny country that most people didn't even know of until Astrid and Alex Olsen became famous. Their fame is thanks to Linnea.
But she has studied world politics, history, and political science. She’s met with world leaders from the countries of Europe that Cara trades with. She’s established a relationship with the royal family of Denmark, Cara’s closest ally. She’s friends with the Prime Minister of the Faroe Islands. She is ready to be queen. She'll be excellent in the position.
Even Torin would admit that. That's not his beef with her at all.