BLURB

Upstanding royal bodyguard Kojo’s primary job is to protect the prime princess of Bagumi from danger. So, when his charge vanishes from her star-studded party at a Lagos hotel, he knows his life won’t be worth living if he doesn’t find her in one piece. Unfortunately, with inept local law enforcement and dead-end leads, time is running out fast.

Until a chance encounter with a mysterious woman sets his instincts on alert and his heart into overdrive. He’s sure the seductive and lethal Latifah holds the answers to his quest. But, how low is he ready to fall to rescue the princess and redeem himself?

This is a Royal House of Saene spinoff and should be read after His Captive Princess (Royal House of Saene #3) to avoid spoilers and for maximum enjoyment.

Chapter 1

Kojo Hamadou walked through the ballroom of the luxury Goldcrest Hotel Suites in Lagos. The scent of exotic flowers filled the air. White and red blossoms sat in thin white vases atop brocade covered tables. His shoes thudded on the shiny hard marble floor. Overhead, chandeliers and spotlights glimmered, making everything dazzle and glow.

The party planners had done well with the classy decorations in preparation for the celebrations this evening. Not that he had an eye for such things except where they hindered or enhanced his job.

In this case, the expensive linens flowing to the floor obscured his line of vision, turning the array of tables into potential hideaways for trouble. He moved through the rows of furniture, checking each table to ensure nothing unexpected lurked beneath the coverings—weapon-toting stowaways or explosive devices.

A little extreme for an engagement party. However, the guests included the crème de la crème of Nigerian high society. Not to mention that the celebrant was a high-born princess and the daughter of the ruler of an African nation.

Added to the mix was the current state of Nigeria as a security hot spot, and he wasn’t about to take any chances.

Another man worked the space alongside him from the opposite direction, methodically lifting the brocade cloths and peering underneath as he moved towards Kojo.

Discrete temporary cameras for the closed-circuit security monitors had been installed and checked by Cruz Security Solutions, a firm he collaborated with in Nigeria. In addition, the team had a command base already set up in one of the hotel’s conference suites, so they had eyes into the ballroom already.

However, none of the camera angles picked up what lay under the white brocades. Hence the need for this final sweep after the party planners finished decorating and before the event started.

Once they were done, security personnel would stand guard until the doors were officially opened for the party. The guests would have their bags and bodies checked and scanned before being given entry. Each cleared invitee would be given a tagged wristband, which would track their whereabouts during the event if someone had to leave the venue and return.

A mild headache made Kojo’s temples throb and his jaw tense. It had been a long hectic week—five straight days of being constantly alert except for the five hours he slept each night.

As the primary protection officer for Her Royal Highness, First Princess Isha Saene of the Kingdom of Bagumi, his job included ensuring all arrangements had been made to secure the venue.

The party was in honour of her recent engagement and organised by her Nigerian best friend Princess Amara Onoh, hence the location.

During international trips, guarding the prime princess required extra effort because he didn’t have his usual team alongside. HRH liked to travel without a large entourage. Therefore, creating the need to collaborate with outfits like the Cruz team responsible for Princess Amara’s safety.

Still, he would be glad when the trip ended, and they returned to their home country in two days.

He had some R&R downtime coming up.

During the last phone conversation with his mother, she’d complained he hadn’t visited for a long while.

Although he was entitled to a week off every quarter, excluding the two-days-a-week rest days, he hadn’t taken a holiday in about six months.

Princess Isha’s calendar had been filled for the same period. And most of the engagements had been abroad. Since he was Primary, he didn’t like delegating her international trips’ security to anyone else. So, he tended to take his breaks when she was in Bagumi and on lowkey or palace-based duties.

According to HRH’s calendar, she had no more international visits after this Nigerian trip for the next month or so. She would be at home on personal time, finalising her upcoming wedding arrangements.

So, he’d booked to take some time off then. The plan was to spend the long Easter weekend with his parents, brothers, and their families—if his middle sibling wasn’t on an active mission. Then, the Tuesday after, he would travel with his friends to Cape Verde for a week before returning to the palace to resume his duties.

A smile curled his lips as he imagined what three bachelors with no obligations could get up for a few days abroad.

“Work hard, play hard,” Prince Zik, Isha’s second brother, liked to say often. The prince lived the motto.

Kojo worked damned hard, ethos drummed into him by a family of patriotic overachievers. But he rarely had the opportunity to party like the prince did.

So, when his friend suggested the upcoming lads’ island trip, Kojo signed up for it. He only had one life, and he might as well enjoy it. Everything shouldn’t be about work.

“All clear,” the Cruz security personnel said when they completed the checks.

“Good,” Kojo replied, satisfied nothing lurked inside that shouldn’t be here. “Stay here until Kenny sends the replacements to man the doors. I’m going to walk the perimeter before heading upstairs to check on HRH.”

“Sure.” The man nodded.

Kojo left him on sentry duty and stepped through the open double glass doors leading to the patio and gardens. The sun was low, casting long shadows in the dusk light.

There were teams upstairs now, guarding the suites where the princesses prepared for the event. So, he could afford to be down here while she was in the safety of the hotel suite surrounded by other bodyguards.

However, the minute Princess Isha left the privacy of her room for the party venue, Kojo would be by her side. When all else failed, it was his job to stand between her and any threats. The danger increased exponentially when she was in public spaces.

But while she was indoors, in her private suite, he could undertake other activities to minimise the risks, like checking the immediate surroundings of the ballroom for any potential hazards.

Taking a deep breath of evening breeze scented with hibiscus, he raised his hands and massaged his temples. Although he wasn’t a fan of pills, he would have to take painkillers to ward off the looming migraine and stay focused tonight.

He glanced at his wristwatch, a gift from HRH on his last birthday. The iconic expensive water-resistant timepiece had a stainless-steel case, black rubber strap, a personalised dial, a GPS tracker, and an integral touchscreen. The thing even predicted the weather. He loved it.

A smile curled his lips as he registered the analogue and digital displays on the round dial—Time: eight minutes past six o’clock. Steps: 12,654. Weather: 25OC and clear skies. Next calendar item: 19:00.

He’d been up for over twelve hours, but his workday wasn’t done yet. The party would start in less than an hour.

Turning a corner, he pulled his phone out to call the security suite and let them know he was heading upstairs.

A laundry cart barrelled into his midriff, knocking him back. Oomph.

“Oh!” the female cleaner gasped behind a mountain of iron-pressed, folded linen.

“Watch where you’re going!” he snapped, his irritability rising as he wondered if he would have to change his whole attire before the event. He was already in formal trousers and shoes. Just needed the dress white shirt and tuxedo jacket to complete the outfit for the occasion.

He looked down, checking himself. He wasn’t injured, and his clothes were not damaged. There was a scuff on the hip of black trousers. He rubbed, and it came off quickly. No harm done.

“You can go.” He waved a hand for the woman to carry on past him.

“I’m sorry,” the husky voice sizzled down his spine, made him stop and pay attention when he would’ve continued walking.

At first glance, she wasn’t remarkable. She was tiny. Her head didn’t reach his shoulders. Her midi-length blue-checked pinafore with a company logo hugged abundant curves top and bottom. On her feet were white trainers. Her hair was long, blue-black, with a fringe obscuring half of her chocolate-brown face.

She swiped her cheek with the back of her hand, keeping her face averted, full lips downturned.