Gwen didn't know exactly why she had decided to defend Arthur when she did. It might have been John's utter rudeness or the fact that Arthur had taken her by surprise when it seemed that he actually took an interest in what the government was doing. She didn't think he cared about anything beyond the tip of his nose.

Gwen was also mystified as to why she allowed Arthur to continue to hold her hand. It wasn't until the President finished his opening speech that she finally extracted her hands from his so that she could join in the polite applause. And it was polite because apparently, worried and serious equalled boring. Arthur, on the other hand, who never worried and was never serious was most likely not boring at all. Not trustworthy and dependable, but not boring.

And now, Gwen had no clue why she had said yes to a dance with Arthur, who had now wrapped both arms around her waist, far too close to her butt and breathing far too close to her face. The dinner had been delicious, although John endeavoured to establish balance by keeping the conversation boring. Now and then, Arthur would make a comment but mostly, he spent dinner greeting various dignitaries who filed past their table to chat with him. He'd introduced her to what felt like a million people, all of whom seemed both charmed and wary of Arthur. It was strange. But she'd gratefully slipped many of those million people her name card, which was very business-like of her and aside from a raised eyebrow the first time she did it from Arthur, he said nothing.

When all those people finally stopped bothering them, dinner was over and the dancing had started.

"Do you dance?" asked Arthur, leaning so close she could smell him. He smelled like clean linen, which to her, made no sense at all.

She should have lied, told him that she loathed dancing or that she had two left feet, but the truth was she loved dancing. It was like the martial arts she took, but less violent. And in a ballroom with high ceilings, dripping chandeliers and a live orchestra, she found herself placing her hand in Arthur's and letting him lead her to the dance floor. Right, so she probably knew why she was now in Arthur's arms on the dance floor.

"You can't actually dance, can you?" she asked after they had spent about a minute standing in one spot, swaying.

Arthur leaned back slightly to look into her eyes, then he grinned. "No. But I think I sway pretty well."

Around them, people were twirling and moving across the floor, careful to avoid them. "Isn't dancing part of the royal curriculum?"

"Did you think there is a special school for royals?" Amusement glinted in his eyes, and he pulled her closer so that her breasts brushed against his chest as they moved. He didn't even seem to notice. She noticed far too much.

"They should have had one for you," muttered Gwen, disappointed that her vision of being swept around under the large chandelier was slowly disappearing. "Then you might be a better prince."

The smile he gave her lacked any warmth. "You're assuming I want to be a better prince. Actually, I'm quite happy with the way I am."

His hands moved further up her back and Gwen was pretty sure that if it wouldn't look weird, Arthur would probably hold her at arm's length. She might have only have spent a limited amount of time but it seemed that Arthur hated when people judged him, so why did he create this very image that begged to be judged? He seemed intelligent enough and with the amount of resources he had at his fingertips, there was little he couldn't go to repair his image. Volunteer for a charity, mingle and interact with the commoners, bake cupcakes for sweet old women who would surely swoon over him.

"I know I'm incredibly handsome, sweetpea, but you're staring a little blatantly." A smirk spread across his face, his carefree persona clearly back in place.

Gwen rolled her eyes, and his chuckle ghosted across her skin, sending the most unwanted goosebumps rising in its wake. His arms slipped back down and he tugged her closer. The only reason she let him was because she didn't want to end up in a wrestling match on the dance floor.

"It's perfectly normal to be attracted to me. Lots of people are." His voice was low and soft against her ear as his fingers moved against her back. "Think of it as a job bonus."

Tilting her head up, Gwen smiled. "Really, honeybun, you don't have to hide your raging attraction for me behind such bluster."

The problem with Arthur's laugh wasn't that he threw his head back and exposed a throat that Gwen had an inexplicable desire to press her lips against, but that it was utterly infectious and it took a hard bite on her lower lip to stop herself from laughing with him.

"I know this is a fancy ball and all, but laughter is permitted," Arthur said once he stopped laughing. His eyes were still laughing and he managed to ease her even closer to him so that his cheek was plastered against the side of her head. "You know, I thought this whole bodyguard thing would be unbearable, but this isn't too bad. Mostly."

And Gwen knew she was in trouble when that sounded like high praise to her.

Several dances later, a few more helpings of dessert than she should have had and many more long, boring conversations with very important people, the ball finally started winding down when the President took his leave. Her hand in Arthur's, Gwen scanned the area around the front of the hotel where they stood, waiting for their car. Crowds were always dangerous, more so when you had someone determined to hurt you. But aside from the fake praises, air kisses and flashes from the press photographers, nothing struck Gwen as particularly wrong.

As the crowd dwindled into the cool night, the two of them edged closer to the road where the many luxury cars were turning in to pick up the other guests. Arthur's attention was preoccupied by some other politician who was trying to make nice with the crown prince so Gwen kept a look out for their limousine although she was doubtful if she could recognise it. All of them looked the same to her. There was some jostling in the crowd and they moved closer to the road. Arthur's hand held hers tighter.

They must have run out of valets or there was a jam at the parking area because there was a sudden lull in the cars pulling up. The crowd pushed them again, then suddenly, Arthur's hand was no longer holding hers. Gwen turned just in time to see him stumbled off the curb and onto the road. He was smiling, straightening himself up but Gwen heard what sounded like the crunch of gravel over the chatter of the people around here. Someone was talking to her but Gwen kept her focus on Arthur, pushing the man out of her way. He yelled at her.

Arthur waved, as oblivious as the rest of the people.

It was definitely a car and one that was traveling at high speed. Without headlights. Damn.

Stepping off the curb, Gwen threw herself at Arthur, grabbing his waist and pulling him out of the way just as the car swept past them. She twisted so she landed first with Arthur on top of her.

"You're heavy," she huffed, pushing stray hair from her face. Her bun must have come loose. "Are you alright?"

Arthur blinked a few times before nodding, but he made no effort to move. "You're strong."

She rolled her eyes.

Around them, the guests stared down at them in silence.

Pushing Arthur off her, Gwen stood. Murmurs of concern went through the crowd with a few people helping a still-stunned Arthur up. Several women helped to dust him off. A number congratulated her on her daring rescue, which she nodded at. Gwen looked back at the road, but as expected, the car was long gone. Someone must have pushed Arthur onto the road but it was going to be difficult to find the culprit, especially when discretion was demanded.

"Did you see what happened?" Gwen asked the nearest woman, one she vaguely remembered as being the wife of a politician.

Her hands clasped against her ample bosom, she shook her head. "I was just telling Robert here about how slow they were getting the cars out when I saw you dart out and save the prince. You're a hero."

"The press are going to have a feast," said another man with a sigh. "Vultures, every single one of them."

Gwen didn't recognise him but quickly found out that he too didn't notice anything amiss. In fact, no one she asked did. She looked over at Arthur who was looking no worse for wear. His smile, however, was small and when he reached a hand for her, she took it.

With a curt 'no comment', to the swarming press, Arthur practically dragged her into his limousine which had finally arrived.

"Thank you," he said once the door closed, enclosing them inside.

"Part of the job. Are you hurt?"

His smile was back. "Are you going to kiss me better?"

"You don't pay me enough."