Royal Heist. Rachelle McCalla

if only the engine hadn’t refused to start when they’d tried to head home. After attempting to row back to the marina with little success, he’d ended up tying a rope from his waist to the prow and swimming back to shore, tugging the disabled craft behind him. They’d arrived at the dock shortly after daybreak, an hour after the boat was reported stolen.

      The former head of the guard had laughed heartily when Galen had explained the story.

      His new boss didn’t laugh. “Compounded with your recent infractions, these reports provide sound basis for your immediate dismissal.”

      Galen couldn’t speak. Would he really lose his job? Jason Selini, appointed in the wake of the ambush in June, had terminated any and every guard who’d been linked to those who’d conspired against the Royal House of Lydia, determined to defend the royal family even from those hired to protect them.

      Captain Selini obviously had no qualms about firing guards. And while Galen had wholeheartedly supported his boss’s decisions—supported every move that would restore the royal guard to its former glory—he hadn’t expected the captain’s zealous housecleaning to threaten his job.

      Selini ran his hands through his thick hair, revealing a few gray roots that had sprung up in recent months. His face, too, had lost its former easygoing expression, replaced with a stern grimness impressed by the weight of his newfound responsibilities. “I’ve got six new recruits scheduled to start in two weeks, as soon as they can be officially transferred over from the Lydian army. I can’t afford to let you go just yet. You have two weeks left.”

      With a pounding heart, Galen listened to his supervisor’s words, waiting for the final verdict. The treason among the ranks of the guard had dealt a horrific blow to their prestige. Galen’s own brothers ribbed him mercilessly for wearing the same uniform as those who’d tried to overthrow the monarchy. Galen had vowed to help reclaim the royal guard’s reputation.

      He couldn’t do that if the captain fired him.

      How could he ever face his older brothers if he lost his job? His family had served in the Lydian military for generations. His brothers were all men of rank. After serving four years in the Lydian Army, Galen had become a guard—in part to escape his brothers’ constant scrutiny and the reminder that he could never measure up.

      If he was fired from the guard, he’d never be able to show his face at a family gathering again. Worse yet, he wouldn’t be a part of the guard he wanted to help restore.

      The captain glared at Galen as he continued. “For the next two weeks, I’ll be keeping close tabs on everything you do and every choice you make. If, at the end of that time, I determine that these protocol lapses are typical of your judgment, then you will be terminated. However, if you can prove to me that you have what it takes to be a royal guard, then you can keep your job. Agreed?”

      Galen nearly sagged with relief, and panted to catch the breath he’d been holding the entire time Selini had spoken. “Agreed. Thank you. You won’t be sorry.”

      “I hope not.” The captain closed the file and rapped the pages against the desk like the blade of a guillotine slamming down. “Now, Princess Anastasia wants a royal guard escort for her assistant every evening on her way home from work. She’s specifically requested you for the job. I’m not thrilled with her selection given your record, but since we don’t have a decent picture of her attacker, and since you’re the only guard who’s actually seen the man, you’re the obvious choice.”

      Still feeling exhilarated by the news that he hadn’t yet been terminated, Galen smiled giddily at the thought of spending more time with Ruby. “Yes, thank you.”

      If anything, his boss appeared concerned by Galen’s response. He leaned across his desk, and his eyes, already glaring, narrowed to dark slits. “Are you certain you can handle that?”

      Galen sobered immediately. “Yes.”

      “Quite certain?” Selini didn’t look convinced.

      “Quite certain,” Galen assured his superior officer.

      It wasn’t until he’d been dismissed and made it halfway down the hall that he realized maybe he wasn’t after all. Could he handle walking Ruby home for the next two weeks, with Jason Selini scrutinizing his every move, ready to dismiss him for the slightest infraction?

      He wasn’t sure which was more worrisome—the man who’d attacked Ruby, or the thought of trying to maintain protocol while in her very distracting presence. He’d felt their old connection from the moment he’d looked into her eyes the previous evening. If it hadn’t been for her cold request the summer before, Galen might have acted on those feelings.

      As he’d promised Captain Selini, could he handle walking Ruby home? From a professional standpoint, it shouldn’t be difficult. He was a trained royal guard. He knew what he was doing. But what about the woman who could make him lose his head with a single look? Suddenly he wasn’t so certain at all.

      * * *

      The evening after the attack, Ruby was alone at the studio after everyone else had left for. She looked up from the table where she sat sorting gemstones into precise piles by color and size and she startled.

      A broad-shouldered figure loomed in the doorway across the room. Shoving the magnifying goggles high onto her forehead, she blinked at the figure.

      “Galen!” She gasped in relief when she recognized him. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

      “Kirk and the princess let me in as they left. I thought they’d told you I’d be stopping by to escort you home,” Galen explained. Kirk Covington, Princess Stasi’s fiancé, had been a sentinel with the royal guard for years before saving Stasi’s life and being assigned as her primary guard.

      “Stasi mentioned that she’d requested a guard, but she didn’t say who it would be.” Ruby peeled off the goggles and placed them on the table.

      “I’m the only one who saw the man who attacked you.” Galen shrugged, his words an excuse for his presence.

      Ruby still felt the urge to argue against it. “I caught a glimpse of him, too.” She stretched her arms above her head, releasing the kink that had built up in her neck over the course of the many hours she’d spent hunched over her work. “But that doesn’t mean I’d recognize him unless he came at me with panty hose over his face again.”

      “I hope that doesn’t happen, but if he shows up again, at least you won’t be alone this time.” Galen glanced around the studio. “Are you ready to head home?”

      “Not just yet, if you don’t mind. If I don’t seal these stones into separate containers, someone could bump the table and my entire evening’s work could be lost.” She picked up the first container. “It won’t take me more than ten minutes.”

      “Take your time. I’m going to walk the perimeter.”

      “Great idea. Kirk does the same thing several times a day.” Ruby returned her attention to the task before her, making precise notations on each container to identify the contents.

      Absorbed by her task, Ruby had almost managed to stop thinking about Galen’s presence when he called out to her from across the room, “Ruby? I need you to come over here, but stay down, out of sight from the windows.”

      THREE

      Ruby felt awkward as she crawled on her hands and knees across the varnished wooden floorboards toward the second story window. Ahead of her, Galen crouched to the side of the expansive glass panes, hidden from outside view by the wide limestone window casing.

      “What is it? Do you see someone?” Ruby asked as she drew slowly nearer.

      “There’s a man at the corner smoking a cigarette. He’s leaning against the building across the street. It could be completely innocent, or he could be waiting for you.”

      She was almost to the window.