When Dieter Schwarz dragged himself into Wulfie’s Kensington Palace apartment that fine summer day, his ash blond hair was so short that he must have shaved his head recently, as it was about the same length as his scruffy beard. He had one black eye and scabbed-over scrapes covering half his handsome face, and one of his muscular arms hung in a sling.
His gray eyes held a feral savageness that looked like he would pick up a rare steak, bite into it with his teeth, and rip it apart while he devoured it.
Oddly, Flicka wanted to be the steak.
Dieter dumped his only luggage, a small rucksack, on the floor.
Flicka’s big brother Wulfram looked up from the book he was reading. “Good week?”
“The best,” Dieter answered.
From the growl in Dieter’s voice, Flicka could hear that his body still coursed with adrenaline, even though he must have flown home from wherever on a plane for hours.
He shucked his overshirt and stretched, standing in a tank top in the entryway. The sling on his arm fell aside, and he flinched when he rolled that shoulder to loosen it.
Flicka couldn’t look away from the way Dieter’s round muscles stood out from his arms and shoulders, thick cords and hard bulges that were so different from the sinewy or stocky teenagers she had been living with at Le Rosey. When Dieter moved his arms, stretching out kinks, those muscles flexed and moved under his tanned and sunburned skin. The golden fuzz that covered the top of his chest above his tank top looked soft, and Flicka could think of nothing else but the way it would feel against her palms.
Dieter asked. “How were the royal bodyguards, Wulfram?”
“Adequate,” Wulfram answered.
“I suppose that’s okay.”
Dieter leaned over and picked up his rucksack.
When he did, the muscles under the thin cotton of his tank top stood out in lumps that Flicka could count. His webbed belt kept his black fatigue pants up, she surmised, because his hips were slim. He looked like could have won any athletic event or beaten any other man on Earth in hand-to-hand combat.
Flicka couldn’t breathe.
She longed to walk over to Dieter and touch his arms and his chest. She bet that he was warm to the touch, with all those muscles working right under his skin like that. His skin must be silky, or coarse—yes, coarse—and his hands would probably feel callused and rough on her arms.
A flush ran over her, a warmth that made her feel heavy and weak.
Dieter had his backpack in his large, strong hands, and he was looking right at her. His dark gray eyes settled on her skin, and she could almost feel his gaze. “Good to see you, Durchlauchtig.”
Her breath seemed to have leaked out of her lungs, and she had to suck in some air to answer him. “You, too, Lieblingwächter.”
Dieter walked out of the room, stalking like a tiger.
The white album of Flicka’s music school musings slipped from her arms and crashed on the floor.
Wulfram looked up from his book, one eyebrow raised.
Flicka told him, “I’m going to attend the Royal Academy, here in London.”
“Excellent,” Wulfram said, settling back into his book. “You can live here at Kensington with me. Security will be easier with you in London, too.”
Yes, she was counting on it.
Title: In A Faraway Land
Series: Runaway Princess: Flicka #3
Author: Blair Babylon
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cover Design: Amy Queau, QDesign
Release Date: June 12, 2018
When an actual prince—who has a Secret Service, an army, and real spies—is hunting you down, you run, and you hide IN A FARAWAY LAND.
Flicka von Hannover was a princess, but not anymore, sort of. To hide from her conniving soon-to-be ex-husband and divorce him as soon as possible, she runs to the place specified by her prenuptial agreement, Las Vegas.
She has left everyone and everything behind except Dieter Schwarz, her bodyguard who saved her that terrible night and smuggled her to Paris and now to Nevada. Living with the six-four, ripped, bossy Swiss mercenary is driving her crazy in more ways than one. Every time he comes near her, she wants to rip his clothes off with her teeth.
Her ex knows that she must be in Las Vegas to establish residency to divorce him, and his men are looking for her. When his Secret Service try to kidnap her and Dieter saves her again, the adrenaline and heat of the moment is too much for them to resist.
But her ex knows that she has to file the paperwork to divorce him, and he’ll do anything to stop her, even mounting an assault with his army on the courthouse when she tries to go to court.
It’s an impossible situation, but if anyone can save her, it’s her loyal, hot, ripped, protective, truly maddening bodyguard.
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