Tropical Holiday Tails - Zoe Chant Page 0,14

added an extra chapter at the request of a reader. This story has no spoilers for the rest of the series and occurs several years before Tropical Tiger Spy.

Chet had expected the king’s cousin to be a spoiled little brat. He was braced for another vain, fashionable princess like all the other nobles he had guarded.

“She’s a challenge,” the newly-crowned king, Einar, warned the two Royal Guards when they were added to her guard in anticipation of her Christmas Eve engagement party. “You might…you know, you’ll see. I’m sure you’re up for it. Just try not to let her break any furniture.”

Chet had not expected her stunning self-confidence, or her completely disarming charm, or what his bear would do when their eyes met.

She was, in distinct contrast to the thin, self-conscious, diet-crazy courtiers, flagrantly voluptuous. Kind observers might describe her as plump, or courteously call her curvy. Unkind observers would pronounce her fat; she had several chins and rolls of extra flesh. She had a large frame, and it was generously padded.

Chet, from the moment he laid eyes on her, thought she was absolutely perfect.

Her skin, as much of it as there was, was smooth perfection, absolutely roses and cream, and her hair was thick, waist-length auburn waves that other women vainly dyed their hair trying to achieve. Her eyes were violet, her smile stunning. When she moved, her great strength and grace were awe-inspiring.

“I am Agneta Annika Margareta Solberg af Bjorn,” she greeted them, and she smiled at Chet’s fellow guard, but she smiled at Chet. If Chet had not already been pledged to her service, he would have fallen at her feet to do so at once.

“Oh,” she said, quietly enough that only Chet could hear. “Oh, this is going to be complicated.”

Chet’s bear was trying to claw its way to the surface, demanding that this was their one, their true forever mate, and it didn’t matter how complicated she thought anything was. It was simple, it was pure, it was everything—she was everything.

Chet held onto his self-control through sheer willpower, and it was fortunate that his duties did not include conversation, because he would have been incapable of anything that complex.

Agneta, on the other hand, lost no part of her cognitive abilities and in rather short order had managed to maneuver things so that they were alone, proving only for the first time her talent at getting people to do her will. Chet’s fellow Royal Guard gave him a rather skeptical look as he went off on some wild hare chase, leaving them quite alone.

“That’s better,” Agneta declared with satisfaction, and she rose to her feet and cornered Chet with determination. “Now Chet, my darling, here’s what we’re going to do…”

Chet shuddered as she took his hands. “Your highness…”

“Oh, no, that will have to go,” Agneta assured him. “I won’t be your highness to you…”

“You will always be your highness to me,” Chet growled, barely able to think over the feeling of her thumbs making lazy circles on the backs of his hands.

She patted him on the cheek and then let her hand linger there. “We’ll go to Einar first thing in the morning. He’ll cancel the engagement, release you from your vows, and we’ll be able to marry, perhaps next week.”

“We’re getting married?” Chet said, blinking at her unexpected intensity. Her hand, still on his cheek, was soft and strong all at once.

“Well I’m certainly not marrying some minor noble from Norway when I could have my mate,” she said archly. “You don’t have any objection to marrying me, do you?” It was the first hint of doubt he’d seen in her, a moment of longing and worry that flashed through her soft blue-purple eyes.

She is ours, Chet’s bear rumbled.

“No,” Chet said. “I can imagine nothing I want more.” He felt like breaking into song.

Her smile was electric. “Perfect! There’s one more thing for tonight, then.”

“Anything,” Chet promised her.

“Kiss me,” she begged, and nothing could have kept Chet from her then.

He swept her into his arms, kissing her not at all the way a bodyguard should kiss his princess, but in every way that a mate should kiss his destined life partner.

She was so soft, so strong, so intoxicating. Her hair was every bit as silky as it looked, her skin just as smooth, and she kissed him passionately back until they were both panting.

“Merry Christmas to me,” she said, giggling in delight, and her hand was on his cock where it was straining against the