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T he door to the cell area opened, and Secada dragged Lahana in by her upper arm.

Tahira jumped to her feet. Her cousin’s hair was in disarray, her eyes were red and swollen, and she had a bloody, fat lip.

Bruises covered her face, arms, and legs.

Her gaze was vacant, as if she’d been drugged.

Tahira hoped she wouldn’t be able to remember the assault.

That would probably be best from the looks of things.

Lahana was still wearing her bathing suit, but her sarong and sandals were missing.

As Secada unlocked the door to their cell, Tahira felt a rage she’d never experienced before. “What did you do to her? You bastard!”

The man sneered cruelly at her, while shoving Lahana into the cell before closing the door behind her again. She fell to the floor, and Tahira dropped to her knees beside her, pushing Lahana’s hair back from her abused face. Secada shut the cell door again. “Nothing she didn’t enjoy.”

Before she realized what she was doing, Tahira was on her feet and lunging at the man, her arms extending past the bars.

But Secada took a step back, out of her reach.

“Hmm. Your cousin was feisty, but it looks like you’ll be even more of a challenge.

Maybe tomorrow night, you and I will have some fun. ”

A combination of fear and rage coursed through Tahira and flared in her eyes. Secada cackled loudly as he turned on his heel and headed for the door. “Oh, yes. I definitely think we’ll play before you’re sold, princesa .”

The door clanged shut. Spinning around, Tahira joined Nala who’d crawled over to Lahana. The injured woman was moaning in pain as tears rolled down her cheeks. Her lips and hands trembled as she grabbed Tahira’s arm. “H-he h-hurt me, T-Tahira.”

With tears welling up in her own eyes, she petted Lahana’s long, dark hair with a soothing motion.

“I know he did. I am so sorry, my cousin. There is nothing I can do to change what happened. If only I could take away your pain, I would. Just know that I am I here for you. Nala and I will take care of you.”

Tahira’s head whipped around at the sound of the door opening again.

One of the guards strode in with a bucket and some rags and set them down just outside of their cell.

He pointed at Tahira, and there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his eyes or voice when he said, “Clean her up. We’ll hide her bruises with makeup and clothes for the auction. ”

Without another word, he left. Silence filled the air, broken only by the occasional sob or whisper from one of the other women.

Tahira reached between the bars, grabbed one of the rags, and wet it.

Returning to Lahana, she gently wiped her face, neck, shoulders, and arms. Angry red welts circled her throat.

“Did he strangle you?” Tahira asked.

“Y-Yes. While he—he was ...” Lahana gulped and cried harder, and Tahira could figure out what she’d left unsaid. “I—I almost passed out, and all he did was laugh.”

She did her best to clean away the evidence of the assault. She could see Lahana’s eyelids getting heavy. “It is over now ... you will be okay. Just close your eyes.”

In the next cell, Melinda sat on the floor next to the row of bars that separated her from the three cousins. “If he gave her the same stuff as the others, she’ll sleep for a few hours. If she’s lucky, she’ll forget what happened when she wakes up—some do, some don’t.”

Tahira nodded, her heart heavy with sorrow for Lahana.

When they were rescued, she would make sure her cousin received the best care, physically and emotionally.

And she was certain they would be rescued.

Once the royal guard discovered the three women were missing, they’d move heaven and earth to find them.

Amar would immediately bring in every special operative he knew to help.

Ian Sawyer would be his first call—over the past eighteen months or so, Tahira had become close to the retired Navy SEAL and his wife.

She no longer saw him as a guard, but as an older brother or uncle who cared for her well-being.

She cared about his employees, as well. In fact, she looked forward to her visits to the United States when the Trident Security teams would join her bodyguards in watching over her.

Yes, she loved to tease many of them—taking them shoe shopping was one of her favorite ways to rile them—but she trusted them completely and thought very highly of them.

They were honorable men and many of them had found their soul mates.

She loved to discover when one of them had fallen in love.

Sometimes she knew before they did just from studying their auras.

Yes, Ian, Amar, and their teams would find them—Tahira just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

“Then I will pray that she does.”

* * *

Several months ago ...

Darius took a bite of the sandwich he’d just made and then glanced toward the hallway leading to the foyer as the sound of shuffling feet caught his attention.

He’d pulled “Princess duty” tonight after several guards, stationed at the Clearwater Beach mansion with Her Royal Highness, had come down with some stomach virus that had them puking and shitting up a storm.

The captain in charge had contacted Trident Security to fill in for the incapacitated guards, and Darius had pulled one of the short straws.

So, there he was, at two o’clock in the morning, wondering who else was up besides the two bodyguards from Trident’s Personal Protection Division, who were walking the perimeter of the gated estate, and the one monitoring the security cameras in a little cottage in the backyard.

No alarms had gone off and all the windows and doors were locked up tight, so whoever it was belonged there.

A shadow flashed a moment before Princess Tahira sashayed in. She gasped when she spotted him, then relaxed again. “Darius Knight, shame on you for startling me. I did not realize anyone was down here.”

He stood in respect of her title, but he couldn’t keep the slight sarcasm from his voice. “I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness. Next time I’ll leave a sign at the bottom of the stairs to let you know I’m in here taking my dinner break.”

Giving him a small smile, she strode over to the commercial-sized refrigerator and opened the door to the freezer, pulling out a pint of H?agen-Dazs ice cream.

As she moved about the kitchen, he finally noticed what she was wearing.

No sexy lingerie or satin pajamas for the glamorous princess.

Nope, she was wearing cotton lounge pants with Hello Kitty all over them.

The matching pink T-shirt was a size too big for her.

Glancing down, he saw she had a pair of fuzzy, pink slippers on her feet.

Her face was devoid of makeup, and her hair was held back from her face by a black, fabric band.

She looked cute, and he quickly shook the thought from his head.

This was Princess Tahira—the woman who could make his life miserable with the mere mention of two words .

.. shoe shopping. Thank God there were no stores open at this hour.

After grabbing a spoon from a drawer, she approached the table and took a seat across from him. “Please sit, Darius Knight. That is if you do not mind me joining your repast.”

Sitting, he picked up his sandwich again. “I don’t mind at all, Your Highness, as long as you call me either Darius or Knight, not both names together.”

“I apologize. It is a habit I have had for a very long time, but I am trying to break it when I am in the United States. Obviously, I am still working on it.” She put a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, savoring it a moment before swallowing. “Do you have a preference? Darius or Knight?”

He shrugged as he chewed a bite of his sandwich. A sip of soda washed it down. “Nope. Whatever you want to call me is fine. You can even use my nickname.”

“Batman? No. I would feel silly calling you that ... besides, I am a Superman fan.” He chuckled at that surprising fact. “I think I will call you Darius. It is a strong name, and it suits you. Did you know that it means kingly or wealthy?”

“No, I didn’t. It’s a family name. My grandfather was Darius and his grandfather was too.”

“Hmm. Maybe there is a royal bloodline in your family from a long time ago. In fact, Darius the Great was one of three Persian kings to have that name.”

He snorted and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but if I’m in line for a throne somewhere, there’s probably a few thousand people who are ahead of me.

” They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their food, but Darius found he wanted to hear her talk some more.

He had a feeling he was seeing a girl-next-door quality to the princess she rarely showed the public.

“So, where did you get the habit?” When she raised her perfectly-arched eyebrows at him, he clarified, “I mean, calling people by both their given name and surname.”

“Ah. It started when I was about ten. As a member of the royal family, I am constantly being introduced to people—sometimes dozens in a single day—and many of them have the same first or last name. I found it easier to remember their names if I repeated both names in my head several times after hearing them for the first time. Some people have photographic memories, I have a memory for names. I see them in my mind like you might see them in a ... oh, what is that thing called again? It is a bunch of small cards on a wheel.”

His brow furrowed, and then a light bulb went off in his head. “A Rolodex?” he asked.

She smiled triumphantly. “Yes! That is it. A Rolodex. It sits on a desk, yes, with names and phone numbers on the cards?”

“Yup. You remember those things? I haven’t seen one in ages.”

“When I was little, my mother’s secretary had one; I liked sitting at her desk and spinning it.” Tilting her head, she studied him for a few moments. “You are a very handsome man.”

Darius stood, picked up his empty plate, and carried it to the sink. “Well, that didn’t take long,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“For you to hit on me.” He cleaned the plate in the sink, then set it on a rack on the counter to dry. “You do know that Ian threatens all his operatives with unemployment and castration if they mess around with you, right?”

“Mess around? You mean if they try to get me in their beds. Yes, I do know that. Although, I do believe the warning is that my father will see to the castration. However, I was not hitting on you , as you say. I was merely making an observation. It is not often I can let my guard down and act like a normal woman.”

Crossing his arms, Darius leaned against the island counter and stared at her. “Normal? In whose world? Everyone’s definition of normal is different.”

She swirled her spoon in the ice cream container.

“Normal like the wives and girlfriends of your Trident men.

Please do not get me wrong—I love my country, its people, our history, and our culture.

But being a princess is not what most little girls fantasize about.

My every move is watched by the guards and reported on by the news and tabloids.

And forget social media—most of the things posted about me on there never happened.

While I use certain sites to promote my charity work, I learned long ago not to read anything I am tagged in.

People can be so cruel and easily believe the lies that are told on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

They have no problem viciously attacking people they have never met.

“My life can be very lonely, even though I am constantly surrounded by people. I must always be smiling in public and never raise my voice or do anything to dishonor my crown or family. I must confess that is why I have enjoyed flirting with some of my American bodyguards. Ian Sawyer ... I mean, Ian is a man my father and Amar trust implicitly.” She smiled.

“I also have a sixth sense, if you will, about whom I can trust. It is only those men who I will flirt with, if they do not have a wife or fiancée, because I know they will not try to take advantage of me. They will not dishonor the man they respect. Ian is a good employer, but he is also a good friend to all of you. You would never do anything to betray his trust.”

“Wow.” Darius was a little stunned. He’d always thought she was a spoiled brat, but now he knew his assessment had been completely off its mark. “Forgive me for making false assumptions, Your Highness.”

“You are forgiven, Darius, on one condition. When we are alone like this, out of the public eye, please call me Tahira. I do not hear my name often, without my title, unless I am with family. I have asked Ian and several of his family members to call me by my given name only, and, now, I am asking you as well.”

He dipped his head once. “If you insist, Tahira, it would be my honor.”

Standing, she returned the half-empty container to the freezer and placed her spoon in the sink. “Thank you, Darius. Now, I am going to return to my room and try to fall asleep. I hope you have a pleasant and quiet night.”

Watching in silence as she left the room, Darius tried to wrap his head around this new side of her he’d never seen before.

She was a completely different woman than she’d been during his past bodyguard details and had definitely matured over the past two years.

After a few moments, he grinned. He liked this new version of her—a lot.