Page 64 of The Prince and the Bodyguard
I dropped my bag and went right back to work. Even if I could do nothing else to help him, I could at least keep an eye on Eddie.
The day was, once again, filled with meeting after meeting, obligation after obligation, and I watched him retreat into a shell of himself. By the time dinner had concluded, Eddie looked like he was barely holding himself together.
I waited until the hallway was clear, then made a decision that violated every protocol I’d ever been taught—British and American.
“Your Highness,” I said quietly as he walked past. “A moment?”
He paused, glancing around to ensure we were alone, then nodded curtly. I led him to a small alcove off the main corridor—not private, exactly, but out of immediate sight lines.
“You okay?” I asked quietly, keeping my voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry.
For a moment, Eddie’s careful mask slipped, and I saw the exhaustion and desperation underneath. “I’m quite alright,” he said automatically, then caught himself. “No. No, I’m not fine at all.”
“Talk to me.”
“I can’t.” His voice was strained, desperate. “Not here. Not like this. I have to be Prince Gregory here, Bash. I haven’t a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
“Have I?” The question came out harsh, bitter. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like every choice was made for me before I was even born.”
“Eddie,” I said softly, forgetting protocol entirely.
The sound of his real name seemed to crack something open in him. His carefully maintained composure wavered, and for a moment, he looked exactly like the man who’d curled up against me in our narrow university bed.
“I love you,” I said, the words falling out before I could stop them. “I love you, and watching you disappear into this place is killing me.”
Eddie’s breath caught. “Bash?—”
“I know it’s impossible. I know there are things at stake that I couldn’t possibly understand. But I need you to know that what we have is real, and it matters, and you don’t have to face any of this alone.”
“I love you too,” Eddie whispered, and the admission seemed to cost him everything. “God, Bash, I love you so much, and I don’t know what to do with that.”
We moved toward each other at the same time, drawn together by days of forced separation and desperate need for connection. The kiss was soft, careful, but filled with everything we couldn’t say aloud. For just a moment, in that small alcove, Eddie stopped being Prince Gregory and became simply the man I loved.
Which was, of course, exactly when someone cleared their throat behind us.
We sprang apart like scalded cats, Eddie’s face going white as he spun toward the sound. Standing in the doorway was Princess Charlotte, Eddie’s older sister.
She was staring at us with an expression of complete shock, her mouth slightly open as she processed what she’d witnessed.
For a moment, nobody moved or spoke, the silence stretching like a taut wire.
“Charlie,” Eddie breathed, and I heard pure terror in his voice.
“I…” Charlotte looked between us, clearly struggling to process the situation. “I was looking for you. Father wants to discuss tomorrow’s schedule.”
“Charlotte, please—” Eddie started, but she held up a hand.
“Not here,” she said quietly, glancing around the corridor with the kind of automatic caution that came from a lifetime in the public eye. “Too many people around.”
She was right. Even as we stood there, I could hear footsteps and voices from other parts of the house, the constant bustle of staff and security that made real privacy almost impossible in a place like this.
“Your room,” Charlotte said decisively. “Twenty minutes.”
She walked away without another word, leaving Eddie and me standing in the alcove, both of us trying to process what had happened.
“Bloody hell,” Eddie whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Christ almighty, I can’t believe this.”
