Page 2 of Big, Burly Bodyguard

She’s comfortable and free.

Everything I’m not.

“Hello,” I say.

“Evelyn, tell me that isn’t a giant bow in your hair,” Birdie says. She leans closer to her screen as if to see me better.

I sigh. “I wish I could tell you that, but you know how my mother is.”

“Well, then I guess this call couldn’t have come at a better time,” she says.

“Does that mean you have good news?”

She grins broadly. “It absolutely does!”

My heart pounds, and I glance around my room to make sure that no one has silently appeared. You’d be surprised how often that happens. Evidently, the royal staff is trained by Navy SEALs. They’re very stealthy.

“Harrison and I found someone,” she says.

“Someone… like someone someone?” I ask.

“Yes. A man. And he’s handsome and kind and very rich.”

I wave my hand. “None of that is important. I just need to know if he’s willing to marry me. Legally?”

The screen freezes for half a second, like even the connection knows this part matters.

Her expression sharpens just a touch. “Yes, he absolutely is.” She takes another sip of her drink. “I just want to make sure you’re certain. It was one thing for me to escape a royal marriage. I wasn’t the royal one. But you… ” She shakes her head.

“If I stay here, I’ll be miserable. You know that. Thank God I’m not responsible for producing the heir. That would be wretched.”

“That was supposed to be my job,” Birdie says with a chuckle.

“Exactly, it’s not as if I’m their only option to make a good match. Or whatever that nonsense is. I have two younger sisters. Not that I want the same fate to fall upon them. But at least I know one of them won’t mind.”

“Francine,” we both say in unison.

I laugh. “I’m surprised she hasn’t poisoned me in my sleep. She has lofty goals for herself, but only where money and prestige are concerned. I just want to live a normal life.”

Birdie exhales, long and slow. “Okay. Then let’s plan this out.”

Relief loosens something in my chest and tears sting at my eyes.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “You’ll still be married and not to a man of your choice.”

“I know. But it won’t be permanent. It will ruin the betrothal to Harold, and once that is resolved, my American marriage will be able to end. Then I can at least have the opportunity to fall in love.”

“Or maybe you’ll fall in love with your American husband. Like I did.”

“Maybe.” But that seems unlikely for lightning to strike in the same way twice.

“If you’re certain, then we’ll make arrangements for you to come to America. The story is that you’re coming here for my baby shower and staying until the baby is born. A nice visit between old friends.”

“I would like to meet your baby. And your husband.”

She nods. “We can make that happen. After you’re safely married.”

“What will I need to do when I arrive?” I ask.