“I’m going to kill him! Let me in there!” Whit Howell had been hired as the king’s bodyguard to protect him from political threats and criminals—not from his own daughter. But as furious as Princess Gabriella St. Pierre was at the moment, she posed the greatest threat Whit had encountered yet during the ten weeks he’d been on the job. “Your royal highness,” he addressed her as protocol required even though they were alone in the hallway outside the door to the king’s wing of the palace. “Your father has retired for the night and will not be disturbed.” “You damn well better believe he’s going to be disturbed,” she said, her usually soft, sweet voice rising to a nearly hysterical shout. “He’ll be lucky to be alive when I’m done with him!” She rushed toward the double mahogany doors, but Whit stepped in front of them. She slammed into him, her breasts flattening against his chest.
