Page 2 of Awestruck (Starstruck Love Stories #4)

I do not believe that for a second. Not when there is still a shadow of that smirk on his lips as he continues to watch me. Why is it now that he has looked at me he does not look away? The depth of his gaze is unnerving.

I am not the type of person to be unnerved.

“But really,” Hex says, frowning now. “Why are you outside?”

“Her Majesty has decreed it,” I grumble.

Glancing at the door, Hex lifts an eyebrow. “Mum’s keeping you out?”

“She didn’t tell me her reasons,” Reid says.

I glare at him now. “Could you not have said as much earlier?”

Oh, that smirk is going to frustrate me to no end, and he seems to know it.

I do not know whether it is Hex’s influence or the fact that this is my first real conversation with my new bodyguard, but Elliot Reid is coming to life as he silently laughs at my growing anger.

“I figured it wouldn’t help the situation,” he says lightly. “Again, my apologies.”

“Being sorry does not justify a wrongful action,” I warn him. “If you intend to keep your position—which you do not yet have, as you have said—then you should learn to keep your opinions to yourself, Mr. Reid.”

He dips his head so slightly that it almost feels like an insult rather than a gesture of agreement.

“I will take that into consideration, Your Highness.” Then he grins at me.

The expression only lasts long enough for me to make note of it before he is back to standing stalwart at his post, his eyes fixed over my head.

“In my defense, none of my actions have been wrongful. I’ve followed orders, nothing more. ”

In all the failed candidates for the position of my bodyguard, I have not once encountered insubordination like this.

Although, that is not quite what this is.

He is faithfully following my mother’s orders, and as she outranks me, I cannot be angry with him for that.

But I can be angry for his disrespect. His amusement at my expense.

His…sass. The last thing I need is a bodyguard who will talk back to me and treat me like a child when he is several years my junior.

How old is he? I learned the information when he first arrived, but the last month has kept me too busy to remember.

Twenty-six? That sounds right. When Derek first recommended the soldier to me, I nearly laughed when I discovered his age.

Surely he is too young, both to have so many accolades and to be responsible for my life.

But Derek assured me Sergeant Reid was the best of the best, and I trusted my friend.

Reid’s résumé is, in a word, impressive, assuming it is all accurate, but I would have thought Derek recognized my need for a personality that would match mine.

That has been ninety percent of the battle in finding a bodyguard who fits.

Whoever becomes my protection agent in a more permanent capacity will be with me at all hours of the day.

He will be privy to my every moment, good and bad.

A snarky ex-soldier who is younger than my immature brothers and finds amusement in my frustration is likely to drive me mad before I ever ascend to the throne.

“So,” Hex says, once again glancing between the two of us. “Does this mean you’re stuck here and therefore not available for a quick match, El?”

Reid’s eyes narrow. “As long as your sister wants to get into the conference room, yes. I’ll be here.”

An unladylike groan slips out of me, and I take several steps back as embarrassment fills my face with heat.

I turn before I can see Reid’s reaction to the sound, pulling my phone from the pocket of my slacks.

Hex happily starts chatting with Reid, so I hope my conversation is relatively private.

Just in case, I take a few more steps down the hall as I pull up Derek’s number and hit the dial button.

If I go too far, I worry Reid will follow.

“Hey, Peach.” To my relief, Derek answers. It is always a gamble with him. As one of the most sought-after actors in Hollywood, he has a lot of people eager to take his time, and it is early in California. “What’s up?”

“‘What’s up?’” I repeat. “What is up is you are clearly determined to drive me to insanity.”

He chuckles. “Elliot started today, didn’t he?”

The fact that he so easily guesses the source of my frustration does not bode well for Reid’s future career in Candora. “You knew he would get on my nerves?”

“I knew he would keep you on your toes, but that’s not the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?” Leave it to Derek to know my schedule as well as he knows his own.

I grip my phone tighter, glancing behind me to make sure Reid and Hex are still occupied. Reid’s impressive résumé included the ability to speak several languages, as well as read lips. I wish I could remember which languages he speaks, as that would make this conversation easier to hide.

Turning so my back is once again facing Reid, I switch from English to Russian.

I would speak Candoran, as Derek is fluent in the language as well as others, but I would not be surprised if Reid has picked up on enough over the last month to get by.

“He has not even started as my bodyguard, and I already want to dismiss him.”

After a pause, Derek responds with near perfect Russian. “It’s that bad, huh?”

“I do not think your friend has the right temperament for a protection officer, Derek Riley, and I fear I may need to begin questioning your judgment.”

“You should do that anyway, Peach.”

He says that, but in the seven years I have known this man, he has never once been wrong.

Remembering that, I sigh and tell myself to take a calming breath.

I switch back to English; Derek’s Russian is better than mine, and hopefully I am done complaining.

“Do you really think Reid is a viable candidate?”

“Yeah, I do. But it’s also not my decision on whether he stays or goes. That’s on you, and he knows this is a trial run.”

That is comforting, and I am sure Gregor told Reid as much when he first arrived. It has been the same with all of them.

As if sensing my thoughts, Derek asks, “What does Gregor think of him?”

I sigh. “This is the only man he has spent more than a couple of weeks with. I think Gregor practically views him as a second son.”

That gets Derek laughing, which I should have expected. Gregor likes no one, but I spoke true. My old bodyguard has had nothing but praise for the ex-soldier. “Give Elliot some time, Freya. Like you said, he hasn’t even started.”

“Started as my bodyguard, no, but he has certainly begun getting on my nerves.”

“He’s good at that.”

“How, exactly, do you know a Sergeant First Class in the Special Forces?” I ask.

Derek has a habit of collecting friends and contacts all over the world, from all walks of life and levels of fame and influence, but from what I know about Reid, he has spent the last half a decade overseas.

It seems unlikely that an actor and a soldier would become close friends or even meet.

Derek hums, as if thinking about how he wants to answer that question. “I don’t remember,” he says after a moment.

“Lies,” I reply without hesitation. He does not generally keep secrets from his friends, and I am curious why he would try now. “The truth, Riley.”

“He’s my cousin.”

“Oh.” Those words hit me with more force than I expect. Derek rarely speaks of his family. I have only heard him mention his parents once or twice over the years I have known him, and I did not realize he had any relatives beyond them. “Derek, why did you not say in the beginning?”

I turn to look at Reid once more, and suddenly the similarities are obvious.

Perhaps that is because Reid is actually smiling.

Not smirking, like he did with me, but smiling wide as Hex talks with wild hand gestures.

The way Reid’s smile twists up at an angle is very much like Derek’s smile.

Though Reid’s face has softer edges, there is something in the shape of his eyes that reminds me of Derek’s as well.

Most likely Reid comes from Derek’s mother’s side, but as there is no quicker way to convince Derek he needs to end a conversation than to bring up his parents, I cannot know for sure.

“I don’t like nepotism,” Derek says after a long moment of silence. “You know how it is.”

I do. While I have a birthright to the throne, Candora will hold monarchical elections in September, only a few weeks from now.

If the people decide I am not suitable to be their queen, they will choose someone else to wear the crown.

In the history of Candora, the Alverra family—my family—has always held the monarchy seat, but that could change.

If my people do not want me as their leader, I will accept their decision because one’s parentage should not qualify them for power.

While unlikely, that chance is always there.

I firmly believe I am the best choice for my country, but deep down I have always harbored a fear that I am not enough. That I have not proven myself worthy of the people’s support.

“I wish I had known about your relation to Mr. Reid,” I tell Derek. “If he is your family, then I am certain he is a good man.”

“I hope that was never in question. But if he steps out of line, you’re more than welcome to send him packing.”

I snicker, allowing a smile despite this revelation complicating matters going forward if Reid cannot learn to fall in line.

Derek may say the choice of keeping Reid is up to me, but now I will be worried about disappointing one of my dearest friends.

“If he possesses even half of your stubbornness, Derek Riley, then we are going to have a problem.”

A throat clears behind me, and I startle, spinning around to find Reid standing mere inches away from me.

This is the closest I have ever been to the man, and he is tall enough that my eyes are suddenly fixed on the way his arms fill the sleeves of his suit.

The way the buttons on his white shirt strain with every breath he takes.

Yes, he indeed has the muscular build of a competent protector.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, nodding to the phone in my hand. “You’re needed in the conference room.”

I blink. After the way he kept me out, I did not expect to set foot in that room today. “Oh. Really?”

He nods once. “Tell Derek I say hi.”

Derek laughs. “Good luck, Peach.” He hangs up before I can say anything.

Reid steps to the side, holding out an arm toward the now-open door of the conference room. Several pairs of eyes are looking out at me, waiting for me to join them. Hex has disappeared, which does not surprise me. He and Sander avoid politics whenever possible.

I take a deep breath and stand a little taller.

“Thank you,” I tell Reid, not certain he deserves it.

But I am Princess Freya Alverra, heir to the Candoran throne, and I am nothing if not polite.

Though he bestows me with another amused smile, I hold my head high and practically march into the conference room.

My eyes land first on Dad and the way he looks uncomfortable, which does not bode well for me, but then I look at Mum and feel the weight of her gaze.

“Freya,” she says in her authoritative way she uses when in her role as queen rather than my mother. “We need to talk.”

I gulp. That is never a good sentence coming from a queen.