The Princess and the Bodyguard, The Casteloria Royals: A Royal Sweethearts Romance Novel, #3

By Kristy K. James

From the author of the popular Coach's Boys series comes Book 2 in The Casteloria Royals Trilogy

Running isn't always the answer…
When a tragedy rocks Abigail Keane's world, she only wants three things. To run as far from what happened as fast as she can. To reevaluate her life and the choices she's made. To spend time with the nephew she hasn't seen in over year. What she didn't plan on was butting heads with a doctor who rubs her wrong from day one.

It's going to be a long summer…
When a pretentious headmistress arrives in Casteloria, Nolan Campbell can't help but hope she cuts her vacation plans short. In fact, nothing would make him happier than to see her on the next plane leaving the island. But when a dark, heartbreaking secret comes to light, he begins to see the real woman hiding beneath the icy facade. Can he help her heal without risking his heart in the process?

Filled with romance, intrigue, secrets, and danger, The Casteloria Royals is a series you can't help but fall in love with. Each story is complete with no cliffhanger endings.

Originally published as A Cool Summer in Paradise

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristy K. James
• Release date: Apr 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386266785

Kristy K. James

Kristy K. James' first goal in life was to work in law enforcement, until the night she called the police to check out a scary noise in her yard.Realizing that she might someday have to investigate scary noises in yards just as dark as hers if she continued on that path, she turned to her other favorite love...writing.Since then her days have been filled with being a mom and reluctant zookeeper (7 pets), creating stories, and looking for trouble in her kitchen.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Maybe it was a smirk and maybe it wasn’t, but whatever it was, Finley Hughes wanted to wipe the expression off Gannon Kearney’s face. Since joining the Royal Guard almost three weeks ago, the young man had turned his mornings into a never-ending nightmare.

Late-October, in many parts of the world would be comfortable. Even Castelorian weather wouldn’t be too bad in the fall—or any time of year—but for the winds blowing in off the north Atlantic. Frigid windchills meant running was once again confined indoors where he made countless, miserably dull laps around the palace gymnasium.

The sound of his footsteps pounding against the gleaming honey colored wood echoed loud enough to compete with the music blasting from the slim headset, delivering James Taylor’s Greatest Hits to his ears. That was something he never had to worry about when he ran trails around the island.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Of course, it wasn't. No, Kearney barely met the minimum age requirement for guards, having just turned twenty-five late in the summer. Fourteen years his senior, Fin knew age was catching up with him. Kearney knew it too.

He'd overheard the kid talking to the other two new hires earlier in the week. An ambitious little bootlicker, his only goal was to take over as Head of Castelorian Security. Unfortunately, Mr. Kearney would have to learn to live with disappointment because Fin had no intention of retiring. Not for another couple of decades at any rate. It might come as a surprise to the boy, but job security would never be an issue for him. Not only was there a slight—very slight—ancestral tie to the Royal family, but one of his closest friends also happened to be the Crown Prince. Then there was the fact that he took his position seriously and gave it a hundred and ten percent.

Still, it rankled that this greenhorn was just waiting for him to screw up and so he pushed himself, running faster, running longer than he otherwise might have done. He could feel the sweat dripping off the ends of his short-cropped hair, running between his shoulder blades and soaking into his tee shirt, causing it to stick to his skin. And still he ran, only calling it quits when his legs started to shake and his lungs felt like they were on fire.

Kearney, he acknowledged with a curt nod, forcing the one word out in a normal tone on his way toward the hall.

Gannon, not relaxing his stance—his booted feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped in front of him—acknowledged the nod with one of his own.

Lowest man on the totem pole, he had to be in the gym an hour before King Liam and Nolan’s bride, Abby, arrived for their morning swim. Though the newlyweds now lived in a cottage about halfway between here and Birmore, she and the ruler of their small country had become best pals shortly after her arrival on the island the previous spring and she still came to visit most mornings.

Until recently, Fin timed his runs so he could greet both of them but with Kearney always watching him with that annoying, superior expression, he’d begun to come earlier. Usually, he managed to get at least half of his forty minutes out of the way before his audience showed up.

Muttering under the breath he worked hard to keep under control, he headed back to his apartment looking forward to the hot shower that would soothe his abused muscles. As he rounded the final corner, he almost collided with Cameron, who was pushing a vintage buggy his parents claimed they'd used to take both him and Briannon for walks when they'd been infants.

Two-month-old Zoey sounded like she was winding down from another crying jag and Cam looked like he’d been up with her half the night. Normally, he wouldn’t be seen outside the apartment he shared with Laura and their children in anything less than casual clothes. That all changed with the birth of his daughter. This morning, he wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a navy blue, knee length robe, and it was clear he was having a bad hair day with his dark blond locks sticking up in every direction.

You know, you have a small legion of nannies who would jump at the chance take care of her for a few hours so you could get some sleep, Finley reminded him, stopping beside the buggy and reaching down to stroke a soft, plump cheek.

Yeah, I know.

And he did, but Cam and Laura preferred taking care of their baby and didn’t often let anyone outside of family and close friends near her.

You’re up early, his friend observed, gently bouncing the handle so Zoey might not realize he’d stopped moving. So far, it seemed to be working.

You know it’s always a little crazy getting ready for the P.R. tour. I’ve got to meet with your sister after breakfast to go over the final itinerary, and then with the detail that’s going with us this year to get them up to speed.

Everyone had been making use of Google so they could familiarize themselves with each of the stops along the way, as well as the hotels and surrounding areas. Much as he’d resisted the inclusion of all things electronic into the job of keeping the Royal Family safe, he had to admit that the internet and cell phones made life a lot easier.

You leave on Monday?

Fin nodded. Two more days to make sure everything was in order. Most of their destinations were in the States, but there were stops scheduled in the United Arab Emirates, Ireland, and Austria.

Homes to some of the world’s wealthiest adventure seekers, Briannon would court their patronage with single minded determination. The Castelorian economy was largely dependent on their tourism industry and as far as it depended on her, she would do her best to ensure a fair number of attendees booked future vacations on the islands.

I don’t envy either of you that chore, Cameron said, then yawned. He grinned when Fin clenched his teeth together in an attempt to prevent the inevitable.

You do that on purpose, he muttered, covering his mouth with one hand.

Maybe. Maybe not. You try having a baby—

Yeah. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll leave that to men like you and Nolan.

You never know. You might enjoy being a father.

I might enjoy bikini waxes and plucking my eyebrows too, but I doubt it.

One day, Fin. One day...

"I think your daughter is starting to wake up again, daddy. Start walking." Zoey wasn’t stirring at all, and Cam chuckled at the obvious hint.

Go take your shower. But when you get a minute, stop by my office later. We need to talk.

Will do.

Of course, he'd known the request would be forthcoming, same as always. It was time for the annual, my-sister-is-a-stubborn-independent-young-lady talk. Like Fin hadn’t figured that out for himself, and a long time ago too. There weren’t many people in the world that drove him insane quite like Briannon Gallagher-Hughes and these yearly P.R. trips stressed him to no end.

It wasn’t that she purposely put herself in danger or anything like that. He’d never known her to sneak out of hotels to party or find the nearest bar. But she trusted far too many people. No matter how many times he, her father, and Cam warned her, she believed she should be able to mingle with crowds of ‘commoners’ like she was a normal person.

Not that he was saying the people she associated with were bad, but in the crowds the conventions drew, it would be impossible to know for sure. Then there was the fact that as far as countries went, Casteloria was one most of the world had never heard of, so she would probably never be a target—unless it was another nut case like Angus Farlane, Prince Colin’s father-in-law.

Colin was a nephew to the king and the overseer—much like a governor—of Coghlan, one of the three small islands that made up Casteloria. Unfortunately, his wife’s father had bigger plans for his grandsons—namely that one of them would one day be king.

With that goal in mind, he’d hired a group of thugs to make it happen. They had been responsible for the death of Cameron’s first wife, Shannen, three of Fin's agents, and they’d tried to kill Cam, his son Brendan, and the King. Thank God those attempts had been unsuccessful, but Brendan would be walking with an artificial leg for the rest of his life because of it. The sad thing was, Colin had no desire to be king, nor for his children to be put under the same scrutiny as his cousins had been in their younger years.

Angus and his henchmen had been put to death in the spring and, in his opinion, it was no great loss. Monsters like that didn’t deserve to live.

Shrugging away bad memories, he stepped under the steaming spray and let the hot water cascade over his head. Might as well enjoy this while he could because there would no relaxing once they left for the four-week tour.

IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR again, folks. Yes, Princess Briannon Gallagher-Hughes, affectionately known in some circles as the Eternal Virgin of Casteloria, will once again be hitting the road for her annual public relations scam tour. An event Castelorians look forward to year-round, the Princess—an expert at pimping the country’s luxurious vacation packages to the world’s wealthiest inhabitants—will be on the prowl for those eager to be parted from their hard-earned money.

Far be it for me to judge, but there are some who say the Royal Family and their subjects are no better than carnival grifters. Then again, guests on the islands willingly shell out thousands upon thousands of dollars for adventures that include murdering wildlife and abusing the dogs used to pull their sleds.

Perhaps one day, a respected animal rights organization might land on the King’s doorstep. Until then, I’m sure he’s praying that this year, like each one that has passed before it, he might get lucky and find a man desperate enough for a wife that he might finally marry the Princess off.

Pursing her lips, Briannon scrolled down to the comments section of the web page while trying to concentrate on the breakfast of peppermint tea, a hard-boiled egg, and freshly baked, flaky croissant sitting on the table in front of her. Moments before, she’d been looking forward to it. Now, however, she found it hard to work up much of an interest in eating anything.

Still, she slathered raspberry jam on the pastry and wondered why she bothered visiting the Galway Gazette website. Not that she made the news there every day, but once it had been brought to her attention that Hogan McCallum had made her his personal whipping board, she couldn’t seem to stay away.

To her disgust, she found herself scouring his column every day, hoping he’d found a topic more interesting than her. But he never did and she wondered what she might have done to warrant the man’s obvious hatred. She’d probably never know—and she wished she didn't care.

It wasn’t as if he'd singled her out either. No, the man seemed to despise a lot of other people too. Fortunately, many other royals, and celebrities hailing from all around the world, found their names slandered nearly every day of the week in what was known as the ‘rag mag’ of the east.

Eternal Virgin of Casteloria?

She focused on the comments again, pleased to note that most were from Castelorian citizens defending her honor. It warmed her heart that they were so quick to jump to her defense but it still hurt that the ugly words were on the worldwide web for anyone to see.

It also made her see red that Hogan had the nerve to insinuate that their vacation packages promoted what amounted to cruelty to animals. Casteloria had some of the strictest animal rights laws on the planet. The only ones they allowed to be hunted were those that endangered the human inhabitants of the islands, or those used to feed families. Even the black bears and grizzlies were limited to a dozen a year. Yes, the pelts were given to the marksmen who made the kill, but the rest was used for food too. Even the bones were used by local craft makers. Nothing was wasted.

It wasn’t her father’s fault that their ancestors had imported them, along with deer and moose that reproduced in such vast numbers that driving at night—safely—was always a challenge. Still, Hogan seemed to think they promoted the slaughter of all animals, and just for fun. Yes, it was fun for the hunters who reserved their spots as many as three years in advance, but it was also a necessary evil in order to keep the numbers under control.

With a sigh, she pushed her plate away, her croissant barely touched. A few more comments, some written by those who loved the insults directed at her, and Briannon closed the laptop. Pushing away from the small table in front of the French doors that opened out to a balcony, she began to pace from one end of her luxurious apartment to the other.

Just stop thinking about him, she muttered to herself, annoyed that she’d let the reference to ‘virgin’ get to her again.

There was nothing wrong with saving herself for marriage, though at nearly thirty-five, it seemed those odds were dwindling every day. If only- She nipped the thought in the bud, knowing if she went there it would take forever to work herself out of the funk it always caused.

Time to focus on the trip, she decided, pivoting on her heel when she reached the foyer, then detouring up the curved stairway to her bedroom. Ladies maids would deal with the packing, but she still had to choose which outfits she intended to take along on the tour.

As she started rifling through the hangers in her closet, she wished she could just deal with it all herself. She was perfectly capable of stuffing her own clothes in suitcases and garment bags, but after having her father point out that she’d be putting several women out of a work if she kept forgetting she was a princess, she decided to suck it up. She wouldn’t be the cause of them losing their jobs.

They would be gone nearly a month. Twenty-eight days. Ten symposiums that, to the best of her knowledge, were booked solid.

That meant ten changes of clothes suitable for business would be necessary. According to palace designers and seamstresses, it would be in poor taste to be photographed wearing the same article of clothing twice. Sometimes, Briannon wondered if she’d been born to the wrong family because it seemed more trouble than it was worth.

Still, she pulled out the requisite number, then chose another week’s worth of more casual clothes. Since the hotels they would be staying at provided laundry service, she wouldn’t need more than that. Several pairs of jeans, tee shirts, and sweaters were stacked on top of the coverlet on her queen sized bed. When she was off duty, she intended to be comfortable. Fortunately, Casteloria was so small, she was always able to play tourist in most cities without fear of recognition. Much of the time anyway.

That job out of the way, she stopped before an antique triple mirror standing in the corner of her room. A cream silk skirt paired with a rose colored blouse and simple pendant showed off the few curves she possessed, but there was no hiding the fact that she would never be mistaken for a voluptuous woman. It was a fact she’d had to accept as an insecure teen, and one she didn’t like any more today than she had then.

Removing the two clips on either side of her head, Briannon tried to smooth the long dark curls a bit before tucking it back behind her ears and securing it again.

It was the best she could do, she told herself, as she took a slow breath to try and steady her nerves. For most of the morning, she'd managed to pretend that today was just another day, but it wasn't. While they didn't happen often, she'd had enough private meetings with Finley Hughes through the years that they shouldn’t bother her, but they did. It didn’t help to remind herself that she'd survived them before—and she would for years to come, or for at least as long as she continued to represent her country in an effort to contribute to their tourism industry.

Days like today, which was pretty much any time they had to discuss tours and other functions that took her out of the country, never failed to stress her out though. As head of security, he had to know her plans down to the smallest detail. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to come along on each trip,