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After he swallows, he says, “You know, you should probably ask a royal bodyguard how he went from a regular kid in North Carolina to best friend and bodyguard to a prince in a country that he’d never even heard of. That might be an interesting story.”
I look at him. Then I actually think about that. I lean in. “You’re right. There is no straight line between North Carolina and the Royal Palace in Cara.”
He smiles and lifts his bottle again. He’s dressed in a dark suit, as he often is, his hair is styled perfectly, his beard trimmed, and he’s wearing a watch that cost more than probably most of the cars in the parking lot. Still, he manages to look at ease, and like a regular guy in many ways.
It’s his attitude. His air. He never acts better than anyone and I swear he can fit into any situation or crowd.
I prop an elbow on the table and rest my chin in my hand. “So how did you become a bodyguard for the royal family of Cara?”
“I grew up in Durham, North Carolina. My mom was a lawyer and then a judge. My dad was a stay-at-home dad as soon as my mom graduated from law school. Prior to that, he ran my grandpa’s hardware store with him in a little town outside of Durham.”
I reach into my clutch for my phone. I pull it out and open a browser window.
“What are you doing?” Jonah asks.
I look up. “Looking up North Carolina and Durham. I know nothing about it.”
He gives me a smile, and it makes my belly swoop. It’s warm and affectionate, and he looks almost as if he expected my answer and is pleased by it.
I smile back. “So, how did you get from Durham to Cara?”
He grins. “I was in college, studying criminal justice. Thought I’d follow in my mom’s footsteps. I was going to be a cop first, then look at law school. So I took a bunch of poli sci classes and world history classes. Loved them. Excelled at them. I was actually invited by one of my poli sci professors to this book club that met monthly. It was an interesting mix of some younger guys, past students of his, and also men in various fields—business, law, politics. They just got together, talked about books, current events, and inevitably the conversations drifted to things like politics and history. I loved it. I felt so flattered to be there.”
“Wow. He really saw something in you,” I comment. Jonah is quiet and absolutely is in the background when he’s with Torin. That’s the job. But I’ve seen them interact one-on-one. Jonah absolutely holds his own with the prince. They have lively discussions about any number of topics. Jonah is intelligent and articulate and knows as much about Torin’s role and all of the nuances to it as Torin does.
I know Torin sees how incredible Jonah is. I’m also very glad this professor and members of this impressive ‘book club’ did.
He goes on. “One day, after a really big test, that professor asked me to stay after class. I thought maybe I’d bombed the exam or something. Instead, he introduced me to someone from the U.S. Secret Service.”
My eyes widen. “Oh. Wow.”
He nods. “He was more connected than I realized. One of the men in the book club had been an advisor to a senator at one time. There was a big D.C. network that I wasn’t aware of. Anyway, my professor had talked me up and, long story short, they asked if I had any interest in applying. I gave them an enthusiastic yes. That was a little above and beyond what I’d imagined, honestly, but when they asked, it just clicked. I knew immediately that I’d love to be a part of something like that.”
“That makes sense.”
He looks curious. “It does?”
“Of course.” He’s watching me as if what I’m saying is significant, so I go on. “You’re drawn to big things and able to immediately see something as special, but you’re okay with not being able to tell anyone about it.
“You kept Torin’s identity—hell, Fiona, Saoirse, and Cian’s too—secret for a decade. You know that people who are doing the big, out-in-front, public facing work have scores of people behind them who never get recognized. But you know those people behind the scenes are just as important. You know the leaders in frontneedthose people and you’re comfortable knowing you’re doing vital work even without any fame or fanfare.
“You can’t even really flash your badge. You don’t wear vests with three big letters emblazoned across the front or shout out your identity when you storm into a room. You’re very confident justknowingyou’re doing something big without everyone else needing to know. You’re perfect for Secret Service.”
He stares at me for another several seconds. Then he clears his throat. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” I smile. “Though I guess you’re not as behind the scenes as you thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“I see you. So did these people.”
His gaze turns more intense, and I feel the air around us heat.
I swallow hard. “So, did the U.S. Secret Service assign you to Torin?” I ask. I want every detail about Jonah.
“No. I never was in the U.S. Secret Service. They were just the contact Cara made. They said they’d been approached about a special assignment and were looking for someone like me. My age, with my interests and competency. So, I came to D.C. for a sit-down with some very high-up people. One of them was from Cara, though I didn’t know it at the time. After my interview, they filled me in on a prince from a small, barely known country who had abdicated the throne, but needed a companion and bodyguard who could pass for his best friend and roommate at college.”
“You gave them an enthusiastic yes about that, too?”