CHAPTER TWO
Three months earlier, morning
‘SHECOULDBEa security risk.’
Felipe stiffened. He’d forgotten Ortiz, his best bodyguard, was at his side and expecting orders. Felipe resented the intrusion yet immediately castigated himself for his own distraction. He was meant to have been assessing the scene. Only in seconds he’d become entranced by the soft strumming music. He’d been straining to listen harder to that lilting voice with the husky edge that made him—
He gritted his teeth, biting back the response surging within. But now it had been acknowledged, that response became emboldened. Felipe named it with self-mockery. Desire. The woman wasn’t what he’d imagined at all. She was far more—
‘You really think so?’ he muttered shortly.
He focused on reducing his ridiculous tension, but he’d been inadequately prepared for her beauty. Her blue and white floral dress highlighted her pale blue eyes. Slightly messy silky blonde hair framed her sweet heart-shaped face.
She looked delectable, not dangerous.
In truth Felipe’s security team were too cautious. His father’s disappearance years ago had resulted in a deeply engrained overzealous protection plan. Now Felipe barely listened to his bodyguards’ mutterings. If he did, then everyone and everything would be a security risk and he’d be unable to even breathe. That was why he’d put Ortiz on Amalia. The guy was a little less over the top. Yet now they were here. Frankly it was hard to see how and why this woman could be a threat. Except just looking at her tightened every muscle in his body.Jaw aching, he forced his attention to the person sitting beside her.
Becoming sole guardian of a thirteen-year-old he’d never before met hadn’t been easy. Nor was it optional. Felipe had brought his stepsister Amalia to Silvabon six months ago. Quiet and listless, she wasn’t anything like he imagined a normal young teen should be. But she was still recovering from injuries, still grieving her parents. She’d suffered too much for someone her age. As this was the first social contact she’d initiated, he needed to tread carefully. Amalia wasn’t royal, she didn’t have the obligations and shouldn’t suffer the penalties of palace life. But while she was young and vulnerable, while she was under his protection, he had to check out who she was gravitating to. His gaze drifted back. What did this woman offer Amalia?
‘She usually works alone. She bakes, updates the menu sign. The café is small but popular. Her boss turns up later to help,’ Ortiz briefed him quietly. ‘Her lemon cakes are really good.’
Oh? For some reason the thought of Ortiz tasting her food scraped Felipe’s bones. He glanced at the menu board. The specials of the day were written with swirling artistic streaks. A multi-talented creative, this petite blonde leaning close to his stepsister.
For almost the last fortnight Amalia had come to the café for at least an hour, sometimes longer. Felipe had thought it might be a boy she was meeting. But no, it was this shrimp of a woman with a canvas apron covering her billowy sundress. Her chunky work boots looked incongruous against that floaty fabric and an assortment of silverwork adorned her ears. The earrings sparkled in the morning sun and made him stare harder, longer. Which in turn made him notice the length of her pretty neck.
So not appropriate. He made himself count for four—slow and controlled as if he were diving down in deep water.
They were seated out the back of the café but still in public view, strumming chords on a weird-shaped, undersized guitar. Safe enough surely. But seeing Amalia bent close to the blonde put him on edge. It shouldn’t. All she was doing was showing Amalia which frets to put her fingers on.
‘She’s been in Silvabon almost three months. Amalia’s been visiting these last ten days. I have some details but haven’t run a comprehensive security check yet,’ Ortiz said. ‘Shall I do that now, sir?’
Felipe watched her smile at Amalia in encouragement as the girl plucked the thin metal strings. ‘No. Not yet. I’ll find out.’
He strode forward. As Amalia’s ‘bossy, overbearing’ stepbrother, he couldn’t do a thing right. Interfering with her new routine was hardly going to help. Too bad. His number one priority was ensuring her safety.
‘Amalia.’ He watched her blonde companion as he spoke. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?’
He could easily ignore Amalia’s resentful expression, but the shock on the woman’s face was an immediate alert. Wariness widened her eyes, furthermore fierce colour swept into her cheeks. Felipe was used to people reacting to his appearance—blushing, yes; stammering, absolutely; smiling and being unable to meet his eyes, often... But this was different. She was different. Because even though her skin flushed she held his gaze—coolly, completely. Maybe Ortiz was right.
‘As if you don’t know who she is already,’ Amalia said. ‘I saw you talking with Captain Ortiz. I’m not stupid.’
No. Just sullen and impossible to engage with, let alone make happy. Felipe tensed all over again. Being a young teen stuck in Silvabon palace? He knew all about the resentment that could bloom if there was no release... But he didn’t know how to make it better for Amalia and she had to understand there were risks with her new position as a palace resident.
‘Does she know who you are?’ he asked.
Amalia’s expression turned stony. ‘Are you saying she only wants to spend time with me because I’m related to you? Because she doesn’t know.’
‘She knows. Everyone in this city knows who you are.’
‘Well, she didn’t until her boss told her and we were already friends by then.’
A spark of sympathetic amusement lit the woman’s face as she glanced at Amalia. ‘Guys, I’m sitting right here.’ She turned those blue eyes back to him. ‘I’m Elsie Wynter. And you’re King Felipe, Amalia’s stepbrother.’
She didn’t stand in his presence as she ought. So there was no curtsey. No Your Majesty. No Pleased to meet you. No fear in those stunning eyes either.
But there was a slightly mocking edge to her self-introduction. For a moment he gazed at her. She gazed right back—measure for measure. He wondered what she was thinking—whether she liked what she saw of him. Suddenly there was a dragging sensation deep in his gut, pulling him towards her. But he didn’t move an inch. He’d met many beautiful women in his life, he wasn’t about to lose his equanimity here. Instead he watched and he waited. And then he saw it—the resignation flickering in her eyes. She didn’t drop her gaze, but the defiant strength of it? That flatlined.
She expected him to dismiss her from Amalia’s life—because she thought he knew something about her, that he’d had a security briefing? If she thought that, then there must be an element of threat. His curiosity spiked—what, why, and how?