Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance

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Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance Page 214

by Kristen Proby


  I change out of Lorenzo’s clothes, take a long hot shower, and grab a bottle of water out of the mini fridge in my suite. There’s a document on my bedside table with a full write up on Intrepid who, contrary to popular belief, is not retired.

  I sit at my desk, take some stationary out of the drawer, and write him a proper thank-you note for the evening bag and tuck in an invitation to brunch. I drop it off on Ellis’s desk along with instructions to find out where William Gallagher is staying and to deliver it to him in the morning. Then I burn the documents about him in the fireplace.

  When I get back to my room, I find Daniel lying across my bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t have anywhere to stay. Thought I could stay with you,” he replies, his blue eyes glittering.

  “Embassy housing full?” I ask, sitting on the bed next to him.

  “Actually, it is. I forgot to tell them I was coming back. Speaking of that, Lorenzo told me you slept with that British guy from the club.”

  “He passed out. We didn’t have sex.”

  “You should have called me.”

  “You weren’t in town yet. Who I should have called was Ellis, but it was very late and he’d been working hard on the impromptu pool party we decided to throw.”

  “It bothered me that you went home with him.”

  “Why?”

  “It bothered the Prince, too.”

  “Why would it bother him?”

  “He likes you.”

  “He’s liked a lot of girls,” I counter, rolling my eyes.

  “He thinks you’re different.”

  “Probably because I didn’t fall into bed with him.”

  He grabs the front of his shirt that I’m wearing and slowly unbuttons it, holding my gaze. “Like you did with me?”

  I give him a smirk. “And here I thought you took me home for pizza and video games.”

  “I took you home because you’re beautiful,” he says, sliding the shirt off my shoulder and kissing it. “I slept with you because you’re fun to be around.” His lips work their way up my neck until his face is right in front of mine. I get the dimple. “Plus, I couldn’t let you continue to kick my ass at Battleground. I had to distract you.”

  “You weren’t trying to distract me. I sat on your lap.”

  He nips at my lip then leans us back on the bed. “I liked that. So, have you banged the Prince yet?”

  “If you and the Prince are so close, you should ask him yourself.”

  “I’m asking you,” he says, trailing his hand up my thigh.

  “It’s none of your business, but if you must know, he has more old-fashioned values.”

  “Bullshit, he’s screwed more women than…Oh.” Daniel’s hand stops moving and he exhales deeply, almost like he just got punched in the gut.

  “Oh, what?”

  “He actually likes you.”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “He might be a prince, but I rocked your world.” He’s right. He did, but I think that’s all it is for him. Just sex.

  “You rocked my world?” I tease. “What, is this the 90s?”

  His hand moves further up, his finger twisting around the lace of my thong, as he kisses me. “You know we’re good together.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He stops kissing me to pull a tabloid off the nightstand and shove it in my face. “I picked this up at the airport. They’re already talking engagement.”

  “That’s because Ophelia and Viktor got engaged at the—”

  “No, they’re talking about your future engagement.”

  “Do you care what they say?”

  “Depends if it’s true.”

  “Daniel,” I sigh.

  “What?”

  I can’t believe I’m going to say this. I don’t want to say this. But I have to. For the good of my mission. And for my own good. “You’re welcome to stay here at the villa, just not in my room.”

  He nods but doesn’t move. I sit up, buttoning the shirt.

  He cups my cheek in his hand. “Are you in love with Lorenzo?”

  “I care for him.”

  “And do you care for me?”

  I gulp, even though I was trained not to give away my feelings through nonverbal communication. Lying is second nature for me. I’m good at it. But I can’t seem to lie to him. Not about this.

  I look down and simply nod. Because I do care about him, even though I shouldn’t.

  “Then I’ll stay in the room next door,” he says, getting out of bed and picking up his clothes. “I want to be close by. I heard about the attempts on his life and fear you may be in danger by association. It was way too easy for me to sneak into your room.”

  “I really don’t want you to leave,” I admit.

  “I can just sleep in here, if you want. We don’t have to, you know. I just want to keep you safe.”

  Which is as soothing as it is ironic.

  MISSION:DAY SEVEN

  Two men are alone in a large, ornate library having a terse discussion.

  “The papers say she’s going to be the next Princess of Montrovia. She may be doing part of her mission a little too well.”

  “She’s saved him from three separate assassination attempts. I’d say that’s pretty damn good for a brand new agent.”

  “Yes, but is she making any progress on the case?” the leader of Black X asks.

  The former Dean of Blackwood Academy frowns but does not reply.

  “I’d hate to see all her training go to waste because she decides she’d rather be royal. Maybe we need to dangle a carrot in front of her.”

  “I think you’re playing with fire.”

  “Do what you need to do, old man.”

  “Do you have no conscience? Have you ever stopped to think about what effect this could have on her? She’s just a girl.”

  “She’s soon to be nineteen and has always been very mature for her age. Remind me again why she wants to work for Black X?”

  “To avenge her parents’ deaths,” the Dean says with a sigh, knowing he won’t win this battle.

  “Then our goals are in alignment. We will both do whatever it takes—no matter the price. The world as we know it may depend on our commitment. Make the call.”

  The former Dean goes into his office at Black X headquarters and calls the villa in Montrovia on a secure line.

  “Hello?” she says, her voice sounding different than he is used to. He realizes why. She sounds happy. She’s in her element.

  “Word on the street is you will become a princess. Is that what you want?”

  “That’s what every girl wants, apparently,” she fires back.

  “But you’re not every girl.”

  “No, I’m not. And you know what I want.”

  “To be a member of Black X?”

  “And to find the man who killed my parents.”

  “If you succeed in this mission, they will help you.” He hates lying to her. The man who killed her mother is dead. Double-crossed by the man who hired the hit on her mother, if rumors are correct. Hopefully he will be spared from having to tell her that truth.

  “I’ve saved him three times already.”

  “Protecting him is only part of your mission. Keep that in mind.”

  “Sir, do you think I’m doing well?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “I found out about the watch you gave—”

  He hangs up before she can say another word and prays the line was indeed secure.

  * * *

  My call with the Dean gets disconnected, and he doesn’t call back, so I return to my room from the terrace, where I took the call.

  Daniel is still asleep, so I slip back into bed. He pulls me into his chest, wraps his arms around me, and makes a cute little mumbled sound as his lips land on my shoulder.

  I take a few moments to bask in the glow of being in his arms.
/>   I realize now it was a mistake to let him sleep with me last night. Our just sleeping together felt more intimate than if we would have had sex. I can’t get attached to him. No matter how hot or tender he may be.

  He’s not my mission.

  And I need to forget about him.

  While he was off in Switzerland, I pushed him out of my mind and focused on the Prince. And I’ve been successful in my mission of protecting him. But the Dean is right. I’ve been spending too much time doing that and not enough time tracking down who is responsible. But it’s really hard to do both.

  Today the drivers qualify for their positions in the race, and I feel like I need to do the same—move fast, figure out who is behind the plot, and take the checkered flag.

  The streets will be packed. There have been events all week, but today kicks off a forty-eight hour continuous party that ends in grand form with the winning driver and his team being honored at the Queen’s Ball.

  Which means the clock is ticking, and I’m quickly running out of time.

  I reluctantly leave Daniel, throw on some yoga clothes, and then go to Ari’s room.

  “Morning,” he says. “I was just coming to get you.” He leads me to the garage and then down the secret elevator so we can talk privately. I look around at the space. I must have been too overwhelmed my first time here to notice everything. It’s literally like a secret lair. It makes me feel like a real spy, and I can see that Ari has been spending some free time down here, based on a large whiteboard covered with notes in a scratchy print.

  “Okay, so let’s walk through this. We know the threat: Kill the Prince. We know why: Control the Strait. We know how: Storming the castle. Attempted poisoning. Attempted shooting. What we don’t know is who is behind the attempts or what they will try next.”

  “Okay.”

  “So the who. Obvious answers are who is next in line. Ophelia. Then Clarice. I think it’s safe to add Viktor to the list based on the fact that he and Ophelia were together and the fact that they started dating days before her father was killed. Then we have the random factor, some sort of terror group. What do you think of my assumptions so far?”

  “If you consider the Queen’s Ball is where all the royals on the succession list will be gathered, then I think you have to consider a bombing plot, where they would just blow up the place. If you consider the castle breech a warm-up, then I’d be concerned about them sending in a small, highly-trained Special Forces team to take them out. Think about it. You will even have the heads of the military at the Queen’s Ball.”

  “I wonder if any of the heirs aren’t planning on being there.”

  “We should try to find out, although if it was my plot, I’d say I was coming and take ill the night of.”

  “Meaning whoever doesn’t show up, could be behind the plot.”

  “I suppose, but I feel like that’s widening the net too much. We need to focus on our top suspects.”

  “Agreed,” Ari says. “So, I’d say we have our top scenarios. I should also add that I spent the night at the cousins’ mansion.”

  “Did you and Clarice get freaky?”

  “No. I pretended to be drunk, so they put me to bed. Once everyone went to sleep, I had a look around.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “There was something interesting that I didn’t find.”

  “What didn’t you find?” I ask.

  “Not one single photo of their father in the entire place.”

  “Because it’s too painful?”

  “I think they didn’t really like him much. And based off a snide comment Ophelia made regarding Prince Lorenzo, I’m thinking they don’t like him either.”

  “Because they didn’t get to grow up like he did? Do they resent him?”

  “It sounds like it. I also found this.” Ari connects his phone to a cable and a photo shoots onto the screen.

  “What’s that? It looks like someone built a modern city on top of one of those alien crop circles.”

  “This was in Clarice’s study and is a plan for the Terra Project.”

  “She couldn’t have come up with that herself. Did she?”

  “No, it’s the work of an American scientist.” He flashes another picture. A map of Montrovia with the crop circles drawn over the top of the casino.

  “I don’t see any of the pretty yachts,” I mention.

  “Yeah, me either.”

  “But the castle is unaffected.”

  “Strange, isn’t it? Does Miss Save The World want to move into it? Control her country?”

  “Her little project with everyone working for the greater good sounds a lot like socialism,” I admit. “Could she have twisted her hate for her father into a hate for the whole country?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering. Last night, she spent a lot of time speaking to the Saudi Prince.”

  “Lorenzo met with him twice. He’s supposedly concerned for their oil shipments. Why would she be telling him about the project?”

  “Maybe if she succeeds, she will need help overthrowing the military,” he suggests.

  “But then they would be in control, not her.”

  “What if she sold the rights to the Strait of Montrovia, but was allowed to keep her country in exchange for military protection?”

  “Holy shit, Ari.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “So you think she had someone kill her father and make it look like a suicide, now she’s trying to get rid of Lorenzo, and then she’ll have her own sister killed?”

  “I suspect so. What do you think?”

  “Do we have any further information on the men who committed the first two assassination attempts?”

  He shuffles through a pile of papers. “Yes. The dots have been connected. All three belong to a radical environmental group participating in eco-terrorism. They use violence in an attempt to protect the environment. It’s odd, though. Although, they use violence to disrupt corporations whose environmental policies they disagree with, they rarely kill.”

  “So, did she hire them or is this bigger than her? Could she just be a pawn in this game?”

  “I’m not sure.” He pulls up the Terra Project’s website. I watch words flash across the screen.

  Imagine a world with no politics. No poverty. No debt. No suffering. A world where everyone is equal. Every citizen would have their basic needs met. Water, food, shelter, transportation. Where we use clean energies like solar, water, and wind power and stop depleting our natural resources. We would raise the standard of living for the entire world. Imagine what we could achieve together.

  “My plan is to stick to her like glue for the next two days,” Ari states. “Your job is to make sure the Prince stays safe.”

  “My head is spinning, Ari.” Particularly because I must complete the rest of my mission: Eliminate the threat. Clarice would be easy to take out. I could order brunch, go kill her, and be back before it was served. But I need to be certain she’s the threat before I do.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a few hours,” Ari says. “We’re on the right track.”

  “Do you ever get scared?” I ask him.

  “Yeah,” he says, wrapping his arm around my neck and giving me a stiff hug. “But we’ll get through it together.”

  * * *

  The Prince calls and says he’s going to be in meetings most of the day and will hopefully meet up with us later.

  Daniel, Ari, Peter, Allie, and I decide to go watch some of the qualifying.

  I was worried about how I was going to juggle Daniel and the Prince, but it’s easy since only one of them is here, but I know it won’t last long. After all I’d read about Daniel, I thought I could sleep with him, he’d lose interest, and move on to his next conquest. But he hasn’t. I suggested rather than doing the whole yacht-Amber Room VIP version of watching qualifying that we do what normal people do and sit on the hill leading up to the castle on blankets and take a picnic.

  A
s we’re looking for a place to sit, Peter asks, “What’s with all the military?”

  “A big event like this,” Daniel says, “they have to be vigilant. And I would think it helps the people feel safe. Especially after the attacks on the Prince.”

  “Feel safe or be safe?” Ari ponders, spreading out a blanket and plopping our gourmet picnic basket down.

  “That is the question,” Peter replies. “However, Montrovia is such a unique country in that it has no poverty. Those who want to do business within Montrovia have very strict guidelines regarding wages. From the janitor and maids, to the gardeners—all are paid handsomely. Have you ever been to a coastal town and the closer you get to the beach, the higher the cost of fuel and food?”

  “Yes,” we all say.

  “That’s not allowed here. No price gouging. Food and wine is cheap, and all citizens are covered by their top-notch medical insurance and facilities. They are a peaceful sovereign state and don’t stick their noses in world affairs. They have a capable army, elite forces to guard their borders, and a world-class maritime division which controls the Strait of Montrovia. For many centuries, there has been only peace.”

  “Sounds like Montrovia has it all figured out,” I reply, wondering why Peter is so knowledgeable on this.

  “Although they allow visitors to come spend their money, they have very strict immigration policies and visas. Citizenship is what you are born into. It’s the only way to make a small country work, probably. The average United States citizen can’t afford to get sick. Here, they focus on taking care of their own.”

  “Enough talk of politics,” Daniel says to them. “We need to open the champagne and see what goodies your chef packed.”

  Later, I wander away from the group, checking out the crowd of people on the hill and noticing that I have a very good view of the Royal Yacht, where the Prince and I will be watching the race tomorrow. How easy would it be to hide a rifle in a picnic basket, screw it together, and take a shot? Or worse, launch a rocket-propelled grenade. We’d be gone in an instant.

  And I can’t die yet.

  Not until I avenge my mother’s death.

  After that, I don’t care much about living.

  “Hey, where have you been?” Daniel says, wandering up to me. “I’ve been looking for you.”

 

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