Page 13 of Risky Match (Royal Spies #1)

brIANNA

D eep breath. I’ve got this. I have to, or they’ll never trust me with another mission.

I just wish Operation Denarius didn’t involve spying on the guy I’ve spent far too many nights thinking about.

Truth is, no one since Blake has stirred passion in me the way he did. Thankfully, he’ll never know how many times he’s starred in my fantasies on lonely nights.

He may be a criminal though. I don’t know how to process that information. It doesn’t sync with anything I know, or have heard, about him. I’m probably relying too heavily on my brief encounter with him.

Of course, it’s also possible that something happened after our night together. Maybe he needed money. Maybe he was forced into the smuggling business. Matt mentioned a bad investment. I suppose that could explain it.

But why does it matter? I can’t let myself get emotionally involved. I don’t need a broken heart, and he could rip mine to shreds in a fast second.

The problem is that everything about him excites me—from his laser focus to his hard, cut body and his sexual prowess.

I have no idea when he had time to hone those skills, but boy did he learn them to perfection.

I guess that’s his thing. He strives to be the best at everything he does. I chuckle to myself at that thought.

There won’t be a repeat.

There can’t be.

With a sigh, I attempt to banish any desires for Blake from my consciousness. Ready for the next phase of Operation Denarius, I ring the doorbell accompanied by Erin and Fausto.

Oops—mental note: stop thinking of Fausto as my protector. He’s playing the role of chef to hide that I’m traveling with extra security. We don’t want anyone to ask questions.

The front door swings open, and I’m face to face with a six-foot-tall, rail-thin blonde who looks like a model.

“Hello. Who are you?” she asks.

Jealousy flickers. Just a twinge—but it’s there. It hadn’t occurred to me that Blake would have a live-in girlfriend, much less one who would be here. So much for worrying about how I’ll handle amorous advances from Blake. There won’t be any with this beauty in the house.

I push the disappointment aside. Personal feelings don’t belong on a mission. She poses an unexpected challenge. As his girlfriend, she’ll keep him busy during downtime. How will I find excuses to spend time with Blake other than on the practice court?

Before the silence stretches too long, Erin steps in. “This is Her Royal Highness, Princess Brianna of Catalinius. I’m her bodyguard Erin, and this is Chef Fausto. Mr. Knight should have told you to expect us.”

“Of course, I should have recognized you. Your Royal Highness, welcome. I’m Dr. Anastasia, but please call me Natalie. Your rooms are at the top of the stairs on the left. We’ve taken the rooms to the right. Blake is up there now if you need to speak with him.”

I reach out my hand. “Natalie, it’s nice to meet you. In private, just call me Brianna. Titles are too awkward when we’re sharing a house.”

“Perfect. How long have you known Blake? He never mentioned he’s friends with royalty,” she says.

Erin interrupts, “While you two chat, I’ll check out the bedrooms upstairs. Chef, you should inspect the kitchen.”

He nods, and they walk away. That’s their excuse for doing a discreet security sweep before they let me venture farther into the home.

For now, I’ll wait with Natalie in the large modern foyer.

From here I can see into open spaces ahead as well as a study through the double doors on my left and a sitting area through an archway on my right.

The interior of this large home has been completely renovated from what I can tell.

It’s bright and modern with light-colored floors, sleek décor, and clean lines.

The fresh feel and inviting vibes are welcoming.

“Great. I’ll be up in a minute,” I say before turning back to answer Natalie. “Blake and I met a couple of years ago here at Wimbledon. This will be our first time as doubles partners though. How about you? When did you two meet?”

“About three months ago. His coach introduced us to each other. Hopefully, my presence will be calming for Blake. Winning this tournament means the world to him.”

“It sounds like you two have a strong relationship.”

“It’s built on trust. That and good communication.”

“True. Please excuse me though. I need to unpack and get ready for practice.”

“Forgive me for monopolizing your time. It’s wonderful to have two more women in the house with all these men.”

I wave and walk up the staircase, pondering the sincerity of her comment. With looks like hers, I guess she doesn’t worry much about competition. Personally, I’ve never been that sure of myself when it comes to men.

It’s not that I can’t attract men, I just never know if they’re worth it. Men usually want me for my title, money, or the publicity that comes with dating royalty. That’s one reason I’ve sworn off relationships for now.

At least with Natalie here, I won’t be tempted to fall for Blake because I honor girl code. I’d never steal someone else’s boyfriend. I also don’t like showing up on the front page of tabloids as the butt of a joke about a relationship gone wrong. Been there. Done that. Never again.

Erin is waiting for me at the top of the stairs.

“Which room is mine?” I ask.

“This one,” she says, pointing to the first room on my left.

“Great. Please tell me it has a tub.”

Before Erin can answer, Blake joins us on the landing. “Sorry—just a walk-in shower. Unfortunately, my bath is the only one with a soaking tub. But you’re welcome to use it any time you like,” he says.

Hmm. That might come in handy.

“Thanks. I wouldn’t mind a hot bath while you’re out practicing.”

“You don’t have to wait for me to leave.” He winks.

“I’m sure Dr. Anastasia would object to that.”

He frowns. “Why would Natalie care?”

“Most women wouldn’t appreciate another woman taking a bath in their boyfriend’s room.”

Blake laughs, “Natalie is my sports psychologist. She’s helping me stay in the right mindset and avoid another failure at Wimbledon.”

“Isn’t it unusual for doctors to date their patients?” I ask.

“What gave you the idea we’re dating? Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” He smirks.

“Of course, not. Something she said made me think you two were together.”

“Natalie’s wife, Cecilia, would strongly object, so that’s not happening.”

Oops. I completely misread the situation, and I just made it worse. Now, Blake has a mischievous sparkle in his eye as if he likes the idea that I’m jealous.

I pivot. “Thanks again for letting us stay. I need to check on Chef Fausto.”

“Why not let Erin handle that?”

“Fausto speaks Italian, and I’m the only one on our team who can translate. Do you or anyone on your team speak Italian?”

“No.”

I smile inwardly. Perfect. People rarely pay attention to servers or kitchen staff and talk freely in their presence.

Conversations will flow even more freely given that Fausto is Italian.

While his English is perfect, he won’t be sharing that fact with anyone in the house.

That means he can eavesdrop without anyone knowing he understands every word.

“That’s too bad,” I say.

“Did you grow up speaking Italian?”

“English is the primary language in Catalinius, but we’re near the coast of France and Italy. My parents insisted my nanny teach me both languages when I was very young. I went to uni in Paris, so my French ended up stronger, but I’m fluent in both.”

“I wish I’d learned more than Italian growing up. It would come in handy at times like these. How will we tell Fausto what we need to eat?”

“I’d be happy to help with that. What would you like him to prepare for you?”

“I’m sure my diet is much like yours—whole grains, lean proteins, fresh fruits and vegetables, and healthy fats. I avoid processed foods as much as possible.”

“That makes sense. Are you allergic to any foods?”

“No. But please tell him I don’t eat raw fish or raw meat. I’m not willing to risk food poisoning during a tournament.”

“A lot of tennis players love sushi as part of their match-day routine, but I agree with you. I’ll let him know.”

I walk down the stairs wondering what types of food Fausto knows how to cook. He’s a big, burly man who looks like he lives on fish and chips, pizza, and burgers. Hopefully, healthy meals are in his repertoire. If not, his career as a chef will be short-lived, and his cover will be blown.