Ana’s POVAs soon as I asked him about the blonde-haired bodyguard, he stepped back and shook his head firmly. “No,” his eyes were serious, unwavering.I felt a flicker of irritation, and for some reason, a pang of offense. I definitely remembered his hair, his blue eyes… but his face? Not clearly. It was like trying to recall a painting seen once in a dream. Oh, how ridiculous—now I was thinking like an artist, obsessing over peculiar details instead of worrying about my life, my pregnancy, or my safety.I shook my head at myself. Focus, Ana. This isn’t the time to daydream about faces.I glanced up at him, craning my neck awkwardly. “But I remember seeing you there,” I said slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. “Are you lying to me? Should I report you to your Lieutenant General?”He exhaled sharply, his broad shoulders relaxing slightly. “Okay, fine,” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “I mistakenly entered your resting room, but I left immediately wh
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