Royal Target

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  As soon as they were both settled in the front of the limo, Enrico found himself bombarded with questions. Janessa started out asking about his family. Yes, he was married. His wife, Patrice, served as the cook for the royal family at the chateau, and he happily told Janessa about his two sons and his daughter. Janessa learned that Enrico’s family had been serving the royal family for generations and that his father, Paolo, still managed the stables.

  As they drove, the conversation turned to questions about life in Meridia and the royal family. Enrico gave Janessa far more information about protocol and the kingdom of Meridia during their hour drive than she had received in several days’ worth of briefings. She learned that though the primary language was Italian, several areas of Meridian culture were strongly influenced by the French, particularly food and fashion. Enrico also confirmed what she had already suspected: The royal family was loved unconditionally by their subjects. The press loved them as well and particularly enjoyed exploiting the activities of Prince Stefano and Prince Garrett.

  As they entered the town of Bellamo, Janessa was beginning to feel more comfortable with the prospect of spending the next several weeks in this tiny country nestled between France and Italy.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as the royal chateau came into view. Built of weathered native stone, the grand structure sprawled over the green hillside, a unique combination of turrets, towers, and balconies. The Mediterranean glistened below in a mirror image of the cloudless sky. Flowers spilled from pottery urns on the balconies, and the courtyard was alive with the color provided by a dozen kinds of roses.

  They pulled up in the driveway, which circled a gushing fountain. Janessa stepped from the car and looked at the coastline. Pristine white beaches stretched for several miles to the west, interrupted by impassable rocky cliffs, which provided a natural defense. To the east, the beach was visible until the land curved out of sight. A Meridian naval base was situated at a point where the beach jutted out half a mile into the ocean, a strategic location to protect the royal vacation home as well as the resort villas that lay beyond.

  Janessa watched a destroyer coming into port and wondered idly if she would be allowed a tour of the base.

  “I will have your bags taken upstairs for you.” Enrico put his hand on her elbow to lead her up the steps. He gave her arm an encouraging squeeze and motioned to the front entrance. “Welcome to Meridia.”

  * * *

  Janessa stood in the doorway of the parlor and stared for a full minute. The room was five times the size of her parents’ living room, yet it still managed to feel welcoming rather than overwhelming. Couches, love seats, and chairs were arranged to create intimate conversation areas, the upholstery comfortably faded from the light streaming through the tall windows. Janessa moved forward just as a man walked through a doorway on the other side of the room. He appeared to be in his fifties, but his dark hair did not show a speck of gray, and his lean frame indicated he was still active.

  “Signorina Rogers.” His voice was formal with a hint of disdain humming through it, but he moved forward and took her hand in his. “I am Martino. I am the manager of the chateau,” he said in English.

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” Janessa shook his hand then took the seat he indicated. With a smile, she continued in Italian. “Please don’t feel you have to speak to me in English. I’m happy to speak your language.”

  “Very well,” Martino said stiffly, now speaking Italian. He sat down across from her and opened up the portfolio he held. “I understand you will be taking over the hostess duties until Queen Marta arrives from Calene.”

  “That’s correct.” Janessa nodded. “I need to take some time tomorrow to acquaint myself with the chateau, and I would like to meet with the caterers early next week.”

  “I will make the appointment with the caterers,” Martino insisted in a superior tone. “This evening, you will dine with Prince Garrett and his guests, and then tomorrow afternoon you will accompany His Highness into Bellamo.”

  Refusing to be affected by Martino’s cold tone, Janessa slid a pocket organizer from her purse, along with a pen. “What time is dinner this evening?”

  “Seven o’clock,” Martino told her.

  “I’ll need a copy of the guest list for tonight.” Janessa let her voice take on an edge of authority.

  “I will bring that up to you shortly. Now, if you would like me to show you up to your rooms, Prince Garrett should be arriving within the hour.”

  Rooms? Janessa thought, but all she said was, “Thank you.” Determined to keep an open mind, Janessa followed Martino up the curving staircase, hoping that he would warm up to working with her before too much time passed. Her next thought was that she shouldn’t expect everyone to like her. Even her own siblings reminded her often enough of her flaws—“bossy” being at the top of their list.

  A few minutes later, Janessa stepped out onto her balcony and breathed in the sea air. The view was incredible, almost too perfect to be real. To the right, a swimming pool was nestled among Mediterranean palm trees and climbing roses, and to the left, the expansive gardens swept along the back of the chateau all the way to the seawall that separated the chateau from the beach just beyond.

  A short flight of stairs led to the beach from the swimming pool, and another flight of stairs mirrored it, descending from the gardens. The Mediterranean Sea glistened beneath the midday sun, and a few boats were visible on the water. She leaned on the railing, wondering if she had ever seen such perfection before. She had always imagined that the coastal regions of Italy would look something like this, but on her mission she had never served near the water.

  The sitting room behind her was nearly as large as her entire apartment in Caracas, and her bags had already been delivered and were currently on the floor in her bedroom. Yes, Martino really had meant rooms, plural. She was afraid she would get spoiled if she stayed here very long.

  Her mind turned to the man she would soon call her fiancé. She had read his bio several times over the past few days, trying to reconcile what was on paper with the man she had met so briefly in Caracas. He had graduated college when he was twenty-one and then served for four years in the Navy. She had been surprised to find that his military training had been rather intensive and that he had spent nearly two years working with naval intelligence. After his time in the service, Garrett had spent a year working with his father before attending law school at George Washington University in Washington, D.C.

  Janessa smiled as she thought of the irony of it all. Garrett had just spent the past three years in her country while she had spent most of that time living outside of it. Still, Prince Garrett had popped up in the newspapers and glossies with regularity, with a different woman on his arm almost every time. The last thing she recalled seeing about him was his breakup with some actress, though she couldn’t remember ever actually seeing them photographed together. She had meant to ask him about it the last time he called but had never found the opening.

  When a knock came at the door, Janessa stayed where she was. “Come in.” She turned, expecting to see Martino in her open doorway. Instead, Prince Garrett stepped through.

  For a moment they stared at each other. Reminding herself to follow Meridian protocol, Janessa dipped into a curtsey. A strand of her thick, red hair caught in the breeze. Self-consciously, she brushed it out of her face and moved from the balcony into the sitting room.

  “I hope you find your accommodations acceptable,” Garrett said as he moved into the room and closed the door to ensure some privacy.

  “I was just admiring the view. It’s spectacular,” Janessa replied. She wondered if he had chosen to speak in English out of habit or if he had forgotten she spoke Italian.

  Garrett motioned for her to sit down, settling himself in a chair once she was seated. “My father asked me to thank you for agreeing to assist my country during this difficult time.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” she responded, somewhat surp
rised by the formality of his tone.

  “Now that you are here and I don’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping on our conversation, can you tell me a little about what you do for your government?” He shifted in his chair. “The information my father gave me was rather vague.”

  Janessa smiled. “I’m not even sure I know what I do for my government.”

  Garrett’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you were some sort of security officer.”

  “Officially, I’m a linguistic specialist.” Janessa shrugged. “Unofficially, I use my knowledge of languages to gather information.”

  “You’re a spy?” Garrett laughed.

  “Not exactly.” Janessa replied, not at all offended by the prince’s reaction. “When I was working as a linguist for the State Department in Madrid, I happened to overhear an important conversation. A few weeks later the Central Intelligence Agency recruited me.”

  “Forgive my laughter, but I find it hard to picture you as an intelligence officer.”

  “Which is exactly why I’m good at my job,” Janessa stated confidently.

  “I hope so, for all of our sakes.” Garrett stood now. “I’ll let you get settled in. Dinner is at seven.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Janessa stood as Garrett started toward the door. She moved into the bedroom for a moment and returned carrying both boxes of doughnuts. Holding them out, she smiled. “Enjoy.”

  Surprise followed by humor lit his eyes. Then he grinned, and the formal air melted away. “I didn’t think you would actually bring them.”

  “Then why did you ask?” Janessa laughed, for the first time feeling like she was talking to the same man who had called her on the phone. “One dozen for you, and another dozen to share.”

  Garrett was still grinning when she shifted the boxes into his arms. “Did you want one?” he asked.

  She shook her head and patted her stomach. “I’d better not.” She lowered her voice as though sharing a secret. “There were three boxes when I got on the plane.”

  Garrett’s laughter rang out. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Janessa’s smile stayed in place as she watched him leave the room. Then she turned from the door and focused on the pressing matter of what to wear.

  Chapter 7

  Janessa studied the other guests while listening halfheartedly to the woman standing next to her in the parlor. The excitement level in the room was high, as this was the first official function at the chateau for several months.

  Uniformed waiters moved through the room carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and glasses of champagne. Every lesson in protocol and etiquette ran through Janessa’s mind as she accepted a miniature quiche and declined the champagne. She tried to convince herself that she belonged here amid the wealth and glamour, but she couldn’t help feeling a little out of her league. Still, she hoped that the last few years of pretending to be something she wasn’t would help her appear comfortable in this formal setting.

  Across the room, Prince Garrett stood near the terrace doors greeting several of his guests. Laughter rang out as a young woman moved closer to Garrett, laid a hand on his arm, and held on.

  Three women clustered behind her spoke of the latest tabloid article about Prince Garrett. Though Janessa had never read more than an occasional headline, she was well aware of Garrett’s many exploits during his naval career. Of course, his presence in the United States over the past few years had made his social life even more interesting to the American people. Even though she didn’t put much stock in anything printed between the covers of gossip magazines, she doubted that Prince Garrett was anything like the good LDS boys her parents and siblings kept throwing in her path.

  Already she was having trouble reconciling the man across the room with the man she had spent hours talking to over the past few days. He looked the same as the first time she had seen him—formal and a bit aloof. On the phone he had been so . . . normal. She had already started to think of him as a friend rather than an assignment, something she knew was against both of their best interests. Still, those phone conversations had given her so much insight into what to expect as well as a comfort level with the assignment she never would have had without Garrett’s help.

  She thought of their meeting earlier. She realized that he wasn’t sure she could protect his family. And despite her confidence in her own abilities, Janessa wasn’t sure she could either. The Rominez assassination had proven what she knew all too well: Even the best security could be breached under the right circumstances. She just had to make sure those circumstances were highly unlikely over the next five weeks.

  The model-thin woman clinging to Prince Garrett leaned in to whisper something in his ear. With an inward sigh, Janessa excused herself from her current conversation and crossed the room. She had to start playing the part of Garrett’s girlfriend sometime.

  She moved slowly across the parlor, taking a moment to gauge what language was being spoken. Though several scenarios crossed her mind, she opted for a subtle solution. When she reached Garrett, she lightly ran a hand over his shoulder as she spoke in French to the woman clinging to him. “I can’t believe Garrett hasn’t introduced us yet. I’m Janessa Rogers. I’m a guest at the chateau for a while.”

  When the woman saw Janessa’s extended hand, manners demanded that she release Garrett and extend her own. She was several inches taller than Janessa, standing about five foot nine, and she took the time to look down her nose at Janessa. “Isabel Dumond.”

  “I am so pleased to meet you.” Janessa flipped through her mental file of the evening’s guests. “You must be Pierre’s daughter. I understand your father has headed the museum in Bellamo for many years now.”

  “Yes,” Isabel said. She smiled coyly at Garrett before continuing. “My family has enjoyed a close association with the royal family for some time.”

  Before Isabel could cling to Garrett once again, Janessa resolved the problem. Stepping neatly between Isabel and Garrett, she angled her head toward Isabel. “Have you met Mademoiselle Poratte?”

  Eyes narrowing, Isabel shook her head.

  “She just arrived from Paris last week and would love to gain your perspective on life here in Meridia.” Janessa laid a hand on Isabel’s arm and motioned across the room.

  Isabel lifted her chin a bit higher. “I’m sure someone else can help her with that.”

  “Perhaps, but there are so few of us here that are close to her age. I would love to help, but I haven’t been here long enough yet.” Janessa gave her a subtle nudge as she turned to Prince Garrett. “If you will excuse us.”

  “Of course, Janessa.” He nodded and turned to speak to the French ambassador as the two women crossed the room.

  Janessa introduced Mademoiselle Poratte to Isabel, deliberately ignoring Isabel’s annoyance. If she guessed right, Isabel had set her sights on Garrett and was determined to get her way. Janessa breathed an inward sigh of relief when Isabel’s father joined them a moment later and introduced himself. He reminded her a bit of her own father with his open, intelligent expression, sturdy build, and dark hair peppered with gray.

  “I understand you are staying here at the chateau,” Pierre commented, his voice welcoming.

  “Yes, I only arrived today, but I’m looking forward to exploring a bit tomorrow.”

  “There are days I would like to do the same thing. The history and artwork here make me feel like I’m in a museum disguised as a home.” He lowered his voice fractionally. “One that has the best cook in the province.”

  Janessa took another miniature quiche from a servant’s tray and nodded her approval. “I’m definitely going to have to compliment the chef.”

  A few minutes later dinner was announced. When everyone moved into the dining hall, Janessa stopped at the entrance and absorbed her surroundings.

  Three elaborate chandeliers were evenly spaced over the enormous table. The wooden floors were freshly polished, and Janessa imagined that the wood itself was centuries old.
She guessed the room could easily seat a hundred people, though only half that many would dine here tonight. A bit intimidated by the size of the room and the formality of the setting, Janessa forced herself to move forward. After a quick search, she found the place card with her name on it and was surprised to

  see she hadn’t been seated next to Garrett.

  As Janessa sat down, a waiter moved to fill her wine glass. Janessa held the glass out to him, speaking quietly as she explained in Italian that she didn’t drink and asked if he might give her a glass of water instead. The waiter nodded in agreement, removing her glass and returning a moment later with a goblet filled with water.

  Janessa thanked him and took a sip as the rest of the guests filtered in. When Prince Garrett entered, she moved to stand as protocol demanded. Noticing her already at the table, he caught her eye and smiled, then changed his course so he would pass her as he moved to his own seat at the head of the table.

  He leaned in to kiss her cheek and whispered, “Having fun yet?”

  She whispered back, “Probably as much as you are.”

  He smiled and moved on, leaving Janessa wishing they had been seated more closely. The guests at tonight’s party were dignitaries from the French Embassy along with selected family members and a few prominent French citizens working in Meridia. The conversation was tedious and single-minded as the French ambassador continued to express his concerns over an upcoming trade summit. Thankfully, the delicious meal more than made up for the lack of interesting conversation.

  At the head of the table, the prince smiled and chatted with those around him. He evaded some questions and answered others, every time responding politely to each of his guests. His voice was sincere, yet his posture remained rigid throughout the evening, and he never seemed to really relax.

  His eyes were dark and just a little mysterious, as though he didn’t want anyone to pierce through to the man beneath the polished sheen. He managed to take a bite of his meal occasionally, but several of his dinner companions failed to recognize that they were there to eat. Every time Prince Garrett moved to take a bite, someone else would ask him a question.