“Oh, wow,” Harlow said. “Does she live up to her nickname? The Ice Princess? They say she’s haughty, proper, and has been linked to a bunch of princes and dukes all over Europe. She’s been engaged three times.”
Rome sucked back some beer. “She’s very…royal.”
Easton narrowed his gaze. There was something in Rome’s eyes… It made Easton wonder just what Princess Sofia was like.
“Rome and the Princess.” Harlow clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to see this.”
“Live it up,” Rome rumbled.
Eventually, their group moved to the table. Everyone was eating, talking, and laughing.
Easton smiled, his chest feeling full. There was no darkness here.
Harlow leaned into him. “What are you thinking?”
“That I’m fucking happy.” He gripped her jaw. “That everything I did was worth it because I earned you as my reward.”
“Easton.” Emotion was alive in her eyes. “I love you, just as you are, with everything you’ve done, and everything you’ll ever do.”
“I know. I love you, too.”
She leaned closer, and he felt one of her hands slide under the table, and down his abs. His body responded and he gritted his teeth. Hell.
“So, how long until we can go home, Mr. Norcross?”
An image of her flashed in his head. Of her on their bed, naked except for that sapphire nestled between her breasts.
“Whenever you want, Ms. Carlson. I’ll give you everything you want. Always.”
“I only need your love.”
And she’d have it, every minute of every day.
I hope you enjoyed Easton and Harlow’s story!
There are more Norcross stories on the way. Stay tuned for THE BODYGUARD starring Rome Nash, coming next month on the 27th of April.
If you’d like more action-packed romance check out the covert allies of Norcross Security, Team 52, and read on for a preview of the first Team 52 book, Mission: Her Protection.
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Preview - Mission: Her Protection
It was a beautiful day—ten below zero, and ice as far as the eye could see.
Dr. Rowan Schafer tugged at the fur-lined hood of her arctic parka, and stared across the unforgiving landscape of Ellesmere Island, the northernmost island in Canada. The Arctic Circle lay about fifteen hundred miles to the south, and large portions of the island were covered with glaciers and ice.
Rowan breathed in the fresh, frigid air. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Hefting her small pickaxe, she stepped closer to the wall of glacial ice in front of her. The retreating Gilman Glacier was proving a fascinating location. Her multi-disciplinary team of hydrologists, glaciologists, geophysicists, botanists, and climate scientists were more than happy to brave the cold for the chance to carry out their varied research projects. She began to chip away at the ice once more, searching for any interesting samples.
“Rowan.”
She spun and saw one of the members of her team headed her way. Dr. Isabel Silva’s parka was red like the rest of the team’s, but she wore a woolen hat in a shocking shade of pink over her black hair. Originally from Brazil, Rowan knew the paleobotanist disliked the cold.
“What’s the latest, Isabel?” Rowan asked.
“The sled on the snowmobile is almost full of samples.” The woman waved her hand in the air, like she always did when she was talking. “You should have seen the moss and lichen samples I pulled. There were loads of them in area 3-41. I can’t wait to get started on the tests.” She shivered. “And be out of this blasted cold.”
Rowan suppressed a smile. Scientists. She had her own degrees in hydrology and biology, with a minor in paleontology that had shocked her very academic parents. But on this expedition, she was here as leader to keep her team of fourteen fed, clothed, and alive.
“Okay, well, you and Dr. Fournier can run the samples back to base, and then come back to collect me and Dr. Jensen.”
Isabel broke into a smile. “You know Lars has a crush on you.”
Dr. Lars Jensen was a brilliant, young geophysicist. And yes, Rowan hadn’t missed his not-so-subtle attempts to ask her out.
“I’m not here looking for dates.”
“But he’s kind of cute.” Isabel grinned and winked. “In a nerdy kind of way.”
Rowan’s mouth firmed. Lars was also several years younger than her and, while sweet, didn’t interest her in that way. Besides, she’d had enough of people trying to set her up. Her mother was always trying to push various appropriate men on Rowan—men with the right credentials, the right degrees, and the right tenured positions. Neither of her parents cared about love or passion; they just cared about how many dissertations and doctorates people collected. Their daughter included.
She dragged in a breath. That was why she’d applied for this expedition—for a chance to get away, a chance for some adventure. “Finish with the samples, Isabel, then—”
Shouts from farther down the glacier had both women spinning. The two other scientists, their red coats bright against the white ice, were waving their arms.
“Wonder what they’ve found?” Rowan started down the ice.
Isabel followed. “Probably the remains of a mammoth or a mastodon. The weirdest things turn these guys on.”
Careful not to move too fast on the slippery surface, Rowan and Isabel reached the men.
“Dr. Schafer, you have to see this.” Lars’ blue eyes were bright, his nose red from the cold.
She crouched beside Dr. Marc Fournier. “What have you got?”
The older hydrologist scratched carefully at the ice with his pickaxe. “I have no idea.” His voice lilted with his French accent.
Rowan studied the discovery. Suspended in the ice, the circular object was about the size of her palm. It was dull-gray in color, and just the edge of it was protruding through the ice, thanks to the warming temperatures that were causing the glacier to retreat.
She touched the end of it with her gloved hand. It was firm, but smooth. “It’s not wood, or plant life.”
“Maybe stone?” Marc tapped it gently with the axe and it made a metallic echo.
Rowan blinked. “It can’t be metal.”
“The ice here is about five thousand years old,” Lars breathed.
Rowan stood. “Let’s get it out.”
With her arms crossed, she watched the scientists carefully work the ice away from the object. She knew that several thousand years ago, the fjords of the Hazen Plateau were populated by the mysterious and not-well understood Pre-Dorset and Dorset cultures. They’d made their homes in the Arctic, hunted and used simple tools. The Dorset disappeared when the Thule—ancestors to the Inuit—arrived, much later. Even the Viking Norse had once had communities on Ellesmere and neighboring Greenland.