Some like it deadly goin.., p.1
Some Like It Deadly (Going Royal Book 3), page 1
Some Like it Deadly
GOING ROYAL
BOOK THREE
HEATHER LONG
Some Like It Deadly
She’s his assistant. His bodyguard. And his biggest distraction.
Attorney Richard Prentiss has one rule: keep it professional. But when his longtime assistant abruptly retires, her replacement—smart, sharp, maddeningly attractive Kate Braddock—is anything but business as usual.
What Richard doesn’t know? Kate’s not just his assistant—she’s elite security, sent to protect him when threats against the royal family turn deadly.
Her orders are simple: stay close, stay alert, and definitely don’t fall for the client.
But when two near-misses turn into full-blown assassination attempts, Richard and Kate find themselves in a high-stakes game of cat and mouse… and the only way to survive is together.
Book Three in the Going Royal series — a sizzling, high-stakes bodyguard romance with witty banter, forbidden attraction, and a heroine who takes “protect and serve” to a whole new level.
Copyright @2014 First Edition by Heather Long
Copyright © 2025 Second Edition by Heather Long
Cover: Smoking Hot Covers
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For everyone who fights the good fight, who refuses to sit on the sidelines and stands tall in defense of those in need. For the brave souls who show up, speak up, and keep believing, even when the world doesn’t. And for that magical truth we often forget: sometimes, it only takes one person to believe in you to change everything. This is for you.
Foreword
Dear Reader,
Thank you for picking up Some Like it Deadly. If this is your first book you’ve picked up from me, welcome, happy to have you along for the ride! If you’ve read me for a while, you might be thinking this is a very familiar title, and you wouldn’t be wrong. The first draft of this book dates back to 2012 or 2013. It was later contracted by Carina Press, a digital imprint of Harlequin as the third in the Going Royal series and released in 2014.
This series does what I have loved so much about other romance series I read while growing up, taking a supporting character from an another book in the series and putting them front and center. In this case, we’re taking two characters we’ve met previously and pairing them up. It’s romantic suspense, undercover bodyguard, office romance, with a dash of royal connections and fake identities.
As I was working my way back through this one, I had forgotten just how much I loved Richard and Kate. Kate is a badass who doesn’t spend a lot of time saying she’s a badass. She’s professional, skilled, and very human. Richard is an overachiever, a guy damaged by a past and seems to be trying to make up for it constantly. He’s also stubborn as hell, something he has in common with his best friend Armand and with Kate.
Needless to say, it sets the stage for some personality collisions as Kate does her best to protect the man who doesn’t want a bodyguard, without letting him know she is there to be his bodyguard.
As with the first two, there’s a great deal of rom com in this, but it also has the suspense and danger elements that my latest readers will know i enjoy so much.
Re-reading and working through this took me back to when I wrote it the first time. I’ve finally gotten the time and the distance to be able to look at it with clean eyes and refreshed enjoyment.
I know I always say I am so excited to share this with you, but I truly am delighted to take you on a journey with Richard and Kate.
Happy reading!
xoxo
Heather
Contents
1. Kate
2. Kate
3. Richard
4. Kate
5. Richard
6. Kate
7. Richard
8. Kate
9. Richard
10. Kate
11. Richard
12. Kate
13. Richard
Epilogue
Afterword
About Heather Long
Also by Heather Long
Chapter 1
Kate
The sharp trill of the phone split the silent darkness in half. Kate Braddock jerked upright and had the phone in her hand, and answered before her mind fully processed the steps from sleep to waking. Adrenaline flooded her system, but training kept her voice calm. “Braddock.”
Too many middle-of-the-night phone calls heralded bad news.
“Kate.” Peterson’s voice sent relief chasing through the adrenaline pumping through her system. “My apologies for the odd hour.” The head of security for Armand Dagmar personally and the Andraste Royal Family in general didn’t sound remotely apologetic. Nor did he sound deeply concerned, which hopefully meant, Anna, her protectee and the fiancée of the grand duke was also fine.
Of course, as her boss, Peterson never sounded disturbed.
“It’s fine, sir.” She gave the perfunctory answer and shoved a hand through her hair. The sharp tug helped fuel her sleepy mind. Slanting a look at the clock, she sighed. It was only four-thirty in the morning. On her day off—the single day she’d had off in weeks. “What can I do for you?”
“We have a delicate situation and I am going to be blunt, Braddock. You’re actually the only woman for the job.” Plunging right in and ripping off the Band-Aid was far preferable to beating around the bush. At this early hour, all she required were the specifics with no sugar coating involved.
“What’s the job?” Pushing back the blankets, Kate rose and padded to the kitchen. She’d already set up the coffee maker the night before. All she had to do was hit the on switch.
“Richard Prentiss slipped his security detail this weekend.” Prentiss was the grand duke’s best friend, and he’d been involved in a rather spectacular car accident a few months earlier.
Kate was impressed—with Prentiss, not his security detail. How they let a wounded man slip them didn’t bode well for their future in the business.
“He was beyond our supervision and out of communication range for nearly seven hours.” And then as if anticipating her question, Peterson added. “He left his cell phone at the house, and returned via taxi looking none the worse for wear, but…”
“But he slipped his security.” The loss had likely pinched the pride of a man as thorough as Peterson. He was damn good at his job. She didn’t envy the members of the detail who’d failed to keep the attorney under surveillance and safe. They wouldn’t have their jobs much longer—if they hadn’t been fired already. “So what does that have to do with me?”
“Mr. Prentiss informed the grand duke he would be returning to his regular duties at his office tomorrow and he wants the security detail pulled.” In a reverse of his earlier bluntness, Peterson circled around to his point. Kate turned at the sound of the coffee maker finishing its job, and poured herself a mug of the dark blend. The process kept her busy and her mouth shut.
She was a good soldier, and well-trained. Peterson would get to what he wanted soon enough.
“Look, Braddock, the grand duke wants to appease Mr. Prentiss, but he’s not prepared to remove security from him. Chatter has slowed, but it hasn’t quieted fully. When we inserted you with Miss Novak, you downplayed your presence as personal security by acting as her assistant.”
And there it was.
“You want me to do the same for Mr. Prentiss?” She hadn’t been especially fond of deceiving Anna, but then she’d never had to lie to her directly either. Peterson and the grand duke had simply told her that Kate had been vetted by security and could act as her assistant. That Kate could do the job. The deception kept her in Anna’s orbit. Every time Anna left the tower to work, Kate had gone with her.
“Yes, we’ve arranged to have his legal assistant head out on a worldwide cruise, all expenses paid. She leaves today, in about three and a half hours, I need you to meet with her and get everything you’ll need to know about how to do the job because you’ll be interviewing with him tomorrow. I’ll have the car picking her up swing by to get you in ninety minutes.” Peterson had thought of everything, his smug tone might be well deserved. Mr. Prentiss wasn’t the easiest protectee.
So much for her day off. “Do you think that Mr. Prentiss is just going to hire me because his assistant left? I’m assuming he has others in that law firm he could borrow—”
“He could, obviously, but he and the grand duke are scheduled to have lunch later today and…” Peterson trailed off and actually sighed. “Let’s just say that he’ll receive the news of his assistant’s departure under controlled circumstances and the grand duke will then volunteer your services. We’ll get you in the door, but you’ll need to secure the position.”
How very Machiavellian of the grand duke.
“You’re asking me to protect someone who doesn’t want a detail and who won’t know what I’m doing.” The potential for clusterfuck was enormous. Anna had been a similar case, but she’d also had a full detail on her at all times in addition to Kate. “What kind of detail is Prentiss going to have?”
“A discreet one.” He paused a beat, then continued, “Kate, I know this isn’t the easiest assignment. I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I didn’t t hink you were fully capable of it. The grand duke is worried about Mr. Prentiss’s visibility. We can’t properly secure him without his cooperation. You will have backup, but they could be twenty seconds out.”
And twenty seconds could be the difference between life and death.
“Understood.” She drained her coffee and glanced at the wall clock. “I’ll be ready in ninety minutes for the car.”
Once he had her agreement, Peterson disconnected the call and Kate carried her cell phone into the second bedroom that she’d converted into a workout room. Five minutes later, she was running on the treadmill. Too wired to go back to sleep, she checked the time.
It was nearly noon in Germany, her brother usually had Sundays off and spent them watching recorded sports. After hitting her brother’s contact, she waited. When he answered on the second ring, the last knot of tension Peterson’s middle of the night call had wound in her soul relaxed. “Hey, Beany Baby, how are you?”
His groan made her laugh.
He was okay. Alive.
She could handle everything else.
RICHARD
“I’m not going to lie to you, Ms. Braddock—the job won’t be easy. This position demands travel at least forty percent of the time. Where I go, you go. When I need a file, I need you to pull it up. You have to anticipate last minute changes and I may be calling or texting you at three in the morning to come in because we need to have a brief in front of a judge at eight.” Richard Prentiss leaned back in his chair and studied the blonde woman seated across from him. Her calm, cool eyes—he couldn’t tell if they were hazel or just a very pale brown—betrayed no hint of concern. Considering he was offering her well-compensated indentured servitude, he’d hoped for a little more bite in her responses. “This is a steep learning curve and I wish that Miranda had given me more notice before she left, but we have to work with what we have.” He wasn’t sure what frustrated him more—Miranda leaving on such short notice or that she left at all. Miranda Keen had worked for him since he’d hung his shingle and despite Armand’s copious attempts to fund his law firm, Richard had built his client list from the ground up. No one knew him better than Miranda—and no one deserved to come into a windfall as much as she, either. He’d paid her well, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend the rest of her life working sixteen-hour days.
“That won’t be a problem, Mr. Prentiss. I’m used to a tough schedule and travel.” Of course she was. Kate Braddock had been recommended to him by Armand during their racquetball game—the first he’d been able to play since a car accident laid him up some months before. Losing a kidney and his spleen meant a lot of changes in his routine, but he was finally well enough to kick his armed babysitters to the curb. He’d understood the need for increased security, particularly during his recovery, but he didn’t like having a posse of heavily armed babysitters entrenching themselves in his life, tearing it apart, and dictating his movements. Armand hadn’t liked the idea, but as Richard had informed his best friend, he could stuff it.
“True, you’ve been with Anna the last few months.” Richard grimaced and drummed his fingers against the resume sitting atop her personnel file. The speed of Miranda’s departure meant he had to cut corners to find her replacement. Kate’s previous stint with Anna meant he didn’t have to worry about a background check. She’d have been vetted by at least two different security agencies. “How will she handle your departure?”
“I believe the recommendation came from Miss Novak, Mr. Prentiss. She has a full staff to help with her foundation responsibilities and an additional two secretaries beyond myself. Her precise words were that she would miss me personally, but professionally she was covered.” The wry response suggested a sense of humor and Richard nodded, but continued to drum his fingers. It was all a little too neat for his level of comfort. The world did not provide easy solutions—and in his experience, if one didn’t examine every angle of a potential Trojan horse, one deserved to be burned.
And she comes recommended by Armand who wants me safe, so chances are she’s exactly what she appears to be.
Still.
“The better question, I believe, is will we work well together?” She eyed him coolly as she flipped the questions to him. “Do you have any particularly annoying habits that I might object to? Are you a vegetarian perhaps? Or someone who speaks with their mouth full of food? Do you eat while you dictate your notes? Do you prefer MP3s or in person dictation? What types of confidentiality contracts am I expected to sign? Will I receive any type of additional compensation for the level of disruption in my life? When you have romantic liaisons will you expect me to wait in the other room on the off chance of a three-a.m. emergency?”
The rapid-fire questions eliminated his initial assessment. He grinned, she definitely had bite. “I have no idea if we’ll work well together, but my initial impression is yes. I have no annoying habits that I’m aware of, though I’ve been told I’m an ass on more than one occasion.” He let that hang out there to see what she would do with it.
“You’re an attorney, Mr. Prentiss. I would expect you received your certification in being an ass about the same time you passed the bar.” Sharp, dry and to the point.
She answered every question, and had retaliated with a few of her own.
He liked her.
“I never talk when my mouth is full.” He layered innuendo along the words on purpose. Anna and Armand’s recommendation aside, he needed a personal assistant who could do her job in the office and not on her back. Instead of rising to the bait, she merely lifted her eyebrows and waited. Impressed, he continued. “Let’s see, there is a very good chance that I will dictate notes while consuming a meal, but I expect you’ll be eating at the same time, so we’ll adjust accordingly. I tend to record notes on my cell phone when I drive and I’ll text you the voice memos as needed.”
Shifting her personnel folder to the side, he held out a fifteen-page contract and sobered. All personal quirks aside, he needed some assurances. “This is the confidentiality agreement. It’s ironclad and it stipulates on all terms that it remains enforced whether you work for me for five seconds, five months or five decades. What we discuss, what information passes in my office, is between you and I and absolutely no one else. I don’t care if the police are questioning you or the President of the United States—privileged defines every communication. If you can’t handle that, we stop right here.”
“Unless you’re planning to assassinate the president or in some way create mass havoc such as harboring a terrorist, I have no problems with signing that contract.” Utterly unruffled, she didn’t pause to consider her response. “I will, of course, insist that you add to those caveats. Privileged information does not allow you to compromise my integrity or make me complicit in a crime.” The blunt force of personality added another tick into the pro column.
He extended the sheaf of papers. “Section four, paragraph three, subsection A—it’s a personal morality clause. It stipulates if you believe a crime is being planned or has been committed that has caused, will cause, or may cause duress or undue distress to you or another living being, you may waive the privilege—in only that issue—to report it.”
“I’m not sure whether to be disturbed or impressed that you have that in a confidentiality agreement.” She took the papers and flipped to the section he’d indicated, a tiny line forming between her brows. “The fact that you’ve already considered it enough to put it in the contract suggests you’ve been burned.”
Smiling at the implied question, he spread his hands. “I’m afraid that’s confidential. However, read through and make sure you understand it. Perhaps consult an attorney and if you can do that in the next—” he checked his watch, “—fifteen minutes, that would be great. I have a backlog of cases and briefs that need my attention.”
Most people would have snapped to their feet at the urgency, but she didn’t. Instead she rested the contract in her lap and stared at him. At his raised eyebrows, a smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “You failed to answer the final two questions.”
