Read Online The Wrath of the King by Danielle Bourdon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Danielle Bourdon
Tags: Suspense, adventure, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Contemporary Romance, Action, new adult, romantic suspense, New Adult & College, love, Mystery & Suspense, wealthy, Royalty, passion, Betrayal, Intrigue, King
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harder she tried to forget the resonance of his voice, his accent, the more it haunted her mind. And it shouldn't. Time and again she chided herself for the distraction, for allowing him to get under her skin. None of this could come to any good. Most of their conversation revolved around his plans for her and her job. Note taking, transcription, filing, preparing agendas for travel. None of it was unexpected.
Except she never meant to keep the job for longer than a few days.
At the end of the hallway, where it met the juncture of another, Wynn paused. She didn't want to go down to the lowest level and couldn't go up to the royal floor. A guard standing against the wall right at the corner caught her eye. She gave him a tight, cordial smile. Standing at least six feet, he filled out his uniform as well as any guard could. Wynn remembered seeing him several times earlier in the day at other posts around the castle, but hadn't been close enough to discern the gray of his eyes or the casual handsomeness of his features. He wore his light brown hair straight, the length hitting the edge of his whiskered jaw.
She filed away the details in a flash, one of those stolen moments that didn't detract from the mental deluge over Paavo. Not even the quirk of a return smile from the guard pulled Wynn from her reverie. Pacing back the way she'd come, she argued with herself that Paavo's draw was nothing more than natural charisma and an occasional sparkle of dry wit. He was unknown, untested, and she told herself that the man and the situation were challenges, a puzzle to be worked out and put away once she was done. Wynn, a lover of mysteries, only wanted to see this one through to the end.
Then why was she out here, pacing the hallway? Why couldn't she sleep? He shouldn't be so prominent in her thoughts that it kept her awake at night.
Making another circuit of the hall, she pivoted at the end, traded another shallow smile with the same guard, and began again.
Walking, pacing, wondering.
On her fourth pass, Wynn realized the guard changed positions. He wasn't leaning against the outer hallway, out of sight until she performed her pivot. He now stood near the opposite wall with a full view of the entire corridor. It meant she made eye contact with him for the last fifteen feet before she turned on a heel to start the other direction.
He probably thought she was crazy.
“Isn't that convenient,” she muttered to herself over his new 'view'. Her backside, to be exact.
“It's very convenient,” the guard replied.
Shocked that he heard, Wynn halted and turned around. Fighting off a blush, honing in on another detail, she said, “Wait. You don't have an accent. Do you?”
“How observant. No, I do not have an accent.” He maintained eye contact, slouching against the wall instead of standing erect.
“American,” Wynn said.
He flashed an unabashed smile, exposing a straight row of white teeth.
Wynn wondered what an American was doing standing guard, in guard's clothing no less, in a Latvala castle. Mysteries and puzzles abounded this evening.
He doffed a nonexistent hat when she continued to stare. “Leander, at your service.”
“Wynn.”
“I know.”
She scoffed. Rather than pelt him with question after question, Wynn returned to pacing. Knowing he was probably watching her disrupted the process. Gone was the ability to walk and think. Now she felt conspicuous and under observation.
Halfway down the hall, the muffled crack of a gunshot changed the entire dynamic of the night. She automatically ducked, tucking her chin, arms over her head. Before she knew what happened, Leander scooped her up like she weighed nothing and bulled into the nearest room. A bedroom, one of the many suites lining the corridor. He took her straight to a closet and set her down in the darkness.
“Don't leave this closet until I come and get you, understand?” He didn't wait for an answer. Turning around, he closed her inside. The sound
Except she never meant to keep the job for longer than a few days.
At the end of the hallway, where it met the juncture of another, Wynn paused. She didn't want to go down to the lowest level and couldn't go up to the royal floor. A guard standing against the wall right at the corner caught her eye. She gave him a tight, cordial smile. Standing at least six feet, he filled out his uniform as well as any guard could. Wynn remembered seeing him several times earlier in the day at other posts around the castle, but hadn't been close enough to discern the gray of his eyes or the casual handsomeness of his features. He wore his light brown hair straight, the length hitting the edge of his whiskered jaw.
She filed away the details in a flash, one of those stolen moments that didn't detract from the mental deluge over Paavo. Not even the quirk of a return smile from the guard pulled Wynn from her reverie. Pacing back the way she'd come, she argued with herself that Paavo's draw was nothing more than natural charisma and an occasional sparkle of dry wit. He was unknown, untested, and she told herself that the man and the situation were challenges, a puzzle to be worked out and put away once she was done. Wynn, a lover of mysteries, only wanted to see this one through to the end.
Then why was she out here, pacing the hallway? Why couldn't she sleep? He shouldn't be so prominent in her thoughts that it kept her awake at night.
Making another circuit of the hall, she pivoted at the end, traded another shallow smile with the same guard, and began again.
Walking, pacing, wondering.
On her fourth pass, Wynn realized the guard changed positions. He wasn't leaning against the outer hallway, out of sight until she performed her pivot. He now stood near the opposite wall with a full view of the entire corridor. It meant she made eye contact with him for the last fifteen feet before she turned on a heel to start the other direction.
He probably thought she was crazy.
“Isn't that convenient,” she muttered to herself over his new 'view'. Her backside, to be exact.
“It's very convenient,” the guard replied.
Shocked that he heard, Wynn halted and turned around. Fighting off a blush, honing in on another detail, she said, “Wait. You don't have an accent. Do you?”
“How observant. No, I do not have an accent.” He maintained eye contact, slouching against the wall instead of standing erect.
“American,” Wynn said.
He flashed an unabashed smile, exposing a straight row of white teeth.
Wynn wondered what an American was doing standing guard, in guard's clothing no less, in a Latvala castle. Mysteries and puzzles abounded this evening.
He doffed a nonexistent hat when she continued to stare. “Leander, at your service.”
“Wynn.”
“I know.”
She scoffed. Rather than pelt him with question after question, Wynn returned to pacing. Knowing he was probably watching her disrupted the process. Gone was the ability to walk and think. Now she felt conspicuous and under observation.
Halfway down the hall, the muffled crack of a gunshot changed the entire dynamic of the night. She automatically ducked, tucking her chin, arms over her head. Before she knew what happened, Leander scooped her up like she weighed nothing and bulled into the nearest room. A bedroom, one of the many suites lining the corridor. He took her straight to a closet and set her down in the darkness.
“Don't leave this closet until I come and get you, understand?” He didn't wait for an answer. Turning around, he closed her inside. The sound
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