“Of course he’s young. He has to pose as a fellow student.”
Like I said, level-headed. “But did he have to be this good-looking? And have that irresistible drawl? And get this: we have to pose as a couple.”
Floris’s laughter filled my apartment. “This is wonderful! Finally, something interesting happens in your carefully orchestrated life.”
“Wonderful? This spells disaster. I’m supposed to be exploring my authentic self, not developing an enormous crush on the man whose job it is to protect me. The professional boundaries alone are?—”
“Professional boundaries are overrated. You’ve never had the opportunity to explore this side of yourself. This could be exactly what you need.”
I stared at the ceiling, contemplating the magnificent irony of it all. I’d spent years carefully avoiding any situation that might reveal my true nature, and now I was voluntarily placing myself in the most tempting circumstances imaginable. “What if I make a complete fool of myself?”
“Then you’ll be a fool who’s finally being honest about who he is,” Floris said gently. “Greg, you’ve spent your entire life being the perfect prince, the dutiful nephew, the future Duke who never puts a foot wrong. Maybe it’s time to see what happens when you let yourself be human.”
After we hung up, I sat in the growing darkness of my apartment, watching the lights begin to twinkle across London. In four weeks, I would board a plane to Seattle. I would become Eddie York, ordinary university student. I would share living space with a man whose mere presence on a video call had reduced me to a stammering, tea-spilling mess.
Perhaps Floris was right. Perhaps it was time to see what happened when I stopped being Gregory Edward William Mountbatten-Windsor, future Duke of York, and became Eddie York, when I simply allowed myself to be… myself.
Whatever that might turn out to be.
Whoever that might turn out to be.
Eddie York was about to embark on an adventure that would either be the most liberating year of his life, or the most thoroughly humiliating.
Knowing my luck, it would probably be the latter.
2
BASH
The drive from North Carolina to the Pacific Northwest should’ve been relaxing. I loved long-distance drives as they always helped me clear my head, and the scenery had been beautiful, even if it had been hot as fuck in the Midwest.
But this time, I couldn’t find that elusive peace of mind. Mama was on my mind, of course. Lung cancer, it turned out, was absolute hell, physically and emotionally and financially. I was worried sick about her and the thought of not being close to home for a whole year was killing me, but we needed the extra money this job would bring. Being a Secret Service agent had resulted in a good starting salary, but Washington DC wasn’t cheap, not even when having a roommate, so I hadn’t even been able to send that much home.
But this job offered a bonus beyond anything I’d ever seen if I fulfilled the entire contract, all nine months. It would pay for Mama’s treatments and be our ticket out of financial ruin.
Prince Gregory Edward William Mountbatten-Windsor. Fourth in line to the British throne. Future Duke of York. And for the next year, my responsibility.
No pressure there.
I’d been briefing myself on the file for weeks, memorizing every detail until I could recite his biographical information like a radio check. Twenty-one years old, studying International Relations, had visited America several times but never the Pacific Northwest. He had one older sister, Princess Charlotte, who was engaged to be married to some Lord next year. Wealthy beyond comprehension, privileged beyond belief, and according to the tabloid photos that had been easily available online, apparently incapable of keeping his hands off women.
Prince Playboy, they called him. Real original.
My first impression of him on the Zoom call had been very different, but I’d wait with my judgment until I’d met him in person.
The Pacific Northwest was nothing like North Carolina. Instead of the familiar red clay and tobacco fields, I was driving through towering evergreens and misty mountains that looked like something out of a damn fairy tale. Even the air smelled different—clean and sharp, without the humidity that slapped you in the face as soon as you set foot outside back home.
I rolled down the window and let the August air fill the truck’s cab. Back home, it would still be hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement. Even in DC, summers were usually humid and muggy as fuck. Here, it was a balmy seventy-five degrees.
Glenn would’ve loved this place.
The thought hit me like it always did—sudden and sharp, leaving me breathless for a moment before I could shove it back down where it belonged. Three years, and I still caught myself thinking about what Glenn would’ve said about this assignment, how proud he would’ve been that his little brother had not only made the Secret Service but was protecting actual royalty.
You always did aim high, Bash, I could almost hear him saying in that lazy drawl we’d both embraced.Make the family proud.
I would. Failure was not an option, as they’d drilled into us at Camp Lejeune, not only for my career but for everything Glenn had stood for. Honor. Duty. Protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. Even if the person I was protecting probably had more money in his checking account than my entire hometown had seen in the past decade.
The GPS announced that I was ten miles out from Cascade Bay University, and my shoulders automatically straightened. Time to get my head in the game.
