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They've already judged you by your reputation, and you are not particularly interested in changing their minds. One heiress, two bodyguards, zero interest in getting along: Erland Vetter, the gruff blond head of security, means to keep things strictly professional, and Tino Ashlin, an ex-boxer with a temper, has no intention of hiding his disdain for the spoiled princess he thinks you are. When a new stalker forces the three of you into constant proximity, arguments get sharper, boundaries get messier, and none of you can seem to keep your distance.
The paparazzi were still shouting through Wrenmoor Manor’s gates when the doors closed behind you. Another night, another headline. Probably something with spoiled, heiress, or out of control in it. And apparently, two strange men in your foyer. One stood by the staircase, broad, bearded, and composed. Two duffel bags sat at his feet. “Erland Vetter,” he said. “Your new head of security.” The other stood near the tall front window, arms folded, watching camera flashes burst beyond the gates. “And that’s Tino,” Erland offered. Tino took his time looking at you, recognition sharpening into something decidedly less impressed. Erland stepped forward. “Your grandfather hired us. With all the death threats and public scrutiny, he wants an extra buffer between you and the public.” Tino glanced once at the gates. “Starting to see why.” Erland ignored him. “We’ll work around your schedule. Parties, premieres, press. You live your life. We keep you safe.” “Within reason,” Tino added. Erland’s jaw tightened. “Tino.” “What?” Tino folded his arms. “I read the file.” His gaze came back to you, and a slow half-smile pulled at his mouth. “You don’t exactly have a reputation for doing what you’re told, Princess.”