With a snort, Chief Bandres waved her explanation away. “Do you have any idea how he would know you were not at the palace?”
“No, unless that proves he is obsessed,” Valantín said. “Dangerously so.”
“Angelica, where were you when you told your brother you were meeting me?”
“We were in the courtyard, just at the edge of the living room,” Valantín answered, a frown marring his brow. “Why?”
“Are you sure this place is free of bugs?” At Ludwig’s question, the room went silent and still for a moment.
Angelica’s eyes widened. “Do you think—”
“Well, they knew your schedule for the museum inauguration. They also knew the itinerary your limousine was going to take.” He shrugged. “I know it was pretty easy to get that…but you might be bugged.”
“We’ll do a quick sweep.” Roger straightened, already speaking into his mic, and motioned to Harrison and Celipa to go to the other rooms separately.
“It’s very interesting you had this…encounter today with Señor Gutiérrez. We’ve recently come into some…new information that might lead us on a new path of investigation, Your Majesty,” Chief Bandres told Valantín. She leaned forward into Angelica’s direction and rested her elbows on her knees. “One of the deceased had some dealings with an organization of ill repute.”
Ludwig noticed that Chief Bandres’s tone as she spoke those words out loud was very careful. “What sort of ill repute?”
“Is this linked to the explosion?” Angelica knew that in every single city there was an underground and she was not so naïve as to think that her country might be the only one that did not have it. But they were very careful to stay out of the papers.
“We know who the main players are.” Chief Bandres crossed her arms over her chest. “I can give you names, faces, places. I can tell you how many squares of toilet paper they use to wipe their butts.”
I don’t necessarily need to know that. Angelica held her tongue though and her laugh.
“What I lack is any evidence to get them in jail. I’ve been able to get a bit of information on the organization, but there are still important missing pieces. Every single time I tackle one down, they just rebuild themselves right back up.”
It seemed odd to Angelica that an event like this could be something so trivial as an underground gang. Everything she dealt with seemed so large in comparison.
“Some twenty days ago, Spanish Centro Nacional de Inteligencia informed us Abelardo was spotted visiting an abandoned barn on their side of the border.” Chief Bandres nodded, crossing one leg over the other and swinging her foot back and forth in a nervous fashion. “We’ve been keeping a good eye on him. Supposedly, he’s in touch with Aguilar Castro, a hard criminal lord who has control of everything that goes over the Pyrenees. From cocaine to human trafficking and more.”
This certainly was an interesting development to say the least.
“Tell me that you’ll be more careful,” Anchela asked.
“I will,” Angelica sniffed. She had to think of what was best for her family, for her, and her people. She had to figure out how to calm their fears.
She didn’t want to figure out anything.
She just wanted to have a bit of peace, of normalcy in her life. She just wanted to be able to meet her lover, boyfriend, her whatever, once without having bodyguards all around her.
“I’ll have Abelardo brought in for questioning,” said Chief Bandres. “If you want to press charges…”
“Why did you even go with him?” Valantín asked, still not making sense of his sister’s acts.
“I…” She tried to come up with an explanation just to sniff again. Because she had gone exactly not to cause a scandal. But the fact that she was there willingly didn’t justify him pawing her and trying to force himself on her. She was not the one in the wrong. “I…”
And then she brushed her hand over her eyes, which just broke Ludwig’s heart. It was not fair, or even appropriate to be questioning her and demanding she come up with plausible answers when she was clearly distressed.
“Come here, Kätzchen,” whispered Ludwig, pulling her into his arms, nestling her head on the hollow of his neck. “Never mind your brother’s unanswerable questions. He clearly doesn’t know how a woman’s mind works.” That brought from her a sound that was a mix of a sob and a laugh. “Not that I can say I know much about women either. Especially a princess. Every time she kisses me I think I’m going to turn into a frog.”
And that made her laugh out loud just to break up crying.
“That’s enough, everyone.” Ludwig waved Angelica’s stupefied family—who had never seen her cry—and the others away.
Chief Bandres was the first to stand up. “She needs to rest. We can continue this tomorrow.”
“I can stay with her…” Anchela began to say just to have Valantín shake his head at her, motioning with his chin at Ludwig.
When the room was silent, Angelica whispered against his chest, “I’ll want Abelardo arrested. I want—”
The creak of hinges and a metallic scrape interrupted her. Then a bang and a cry sounded in the other room, sounds of scuffling and running feet.
Angelica glanced at Ludwig, scared, as he was already standing up and the two guards outside the Harem burst through the door into the living room.
Heavy footsteps brought Harrison and Roger into the living room with other guards following them, their hands full of plastic bags containing mics, cameras, and other devices that Angelica had no idea what they were for.
Roger and Harrison didn’t need to say anything—their stormy facial expressions spoke for themselves—but when they pushed a cuffed Celipa to the front of the group, Angelica gasped.
Not Celipa.
She had trusted her with her very life for years. It was like being betrayed by a family member.
“Seems Señorita Alfarro has something to tell us.”
Celipa bent her head but still a spark of defiance could be found.
While Roger wanted nothing more than to take her out behind the palace and rid themselves of the traitor, he could not very well take his vengeance out on her. Besides, if he played her well, she could be an asset in their investigation. “Tell the princess what you did.”
Looking nothing like the confident bodyguard that had been assigned to protect the princess, Celipa twisted her hands in front of her, the cuffs making clicking sounds that clearly unnerved Angelica.
“I planted recording devices in your rooms,” she said, defiant.
“Why? Why would you do that? And for whom?” Angelica asked in an even voice that made Roger proud of her. He could see she was shocked by the news but still maintained her composure.
“For a powerful group who wants what’s best for this country.”
Roger didn’t bother to hide his disdain for what he was hearing. “You are charged with protection of the princess. Do you know the punishment for treason?”
“I meant the princess no harm personally and she knows that.” Celipa looked at him and then at Angelica. “You know that, right?”
Roger stared at her, surprised that the one person he would have never thought to betray their trust, the royal family’s trust, had done so. What sort of brainwashing was going on with the people of Aragon? Who could they trust with the royal’s lives?
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but it would have been better if your father had stepped down when he was asked to.” Celipa shook her head at Angelica. “You should advise your brother to abdicate. Before it’s too late—”
“That’s enough,” Ludwig cut her in a icy voice. “Take her away, Roger.”
Ludwig handed a forlorn Angelica a glass of Porto wine. “Here, it will make you relax.”
“Salud. Long live the princess.” She raised it in a mocking toast and gulped the contents down as if it were medicine, just to cough. “Ugh.”
“Now, bed.”
Angelica pulled back the covers and
climbed under them wearily.
“Come here, Kätzchen.” The bed dipped as Ludwig climbed in next to her and pulled her against his warm body. “Relax.”
“Do you think there will ever be anyone I can trust?”
“Of course,” he murmured against her hair. “There are people who would die for you, Angelica. Some are just…some get lost in what they were fighting for. I’m not saying that your bodyguard was right in her doings, but at one time, I imagine there was good in her.”
“Cristo. Everyone knew what Abelardo had done. How I felt about him.” She burrowed against him, feeling his warmth seep into her coldness. “How I felt about everything he made me go through.”
Her dress, her hair-do, every childish fantasy she had put into that wedding were mocked and translated into French, English, and German—and possibly every other language known to humankind. Ridiculous words printed in bubbles over her head in newspaper caricatures. Memes created and gone viral on the internet.
He shifted on the bed to better study her profile against the moonlight entering through the open window. “He made you feel awkward and worthless.”
“I guess I didn’t have a lot to say, and that made a good disguise for him.” She sipped the wine, set that part of her past aside for now. She was no longer that person, that woman who had stood idly by while a man dictated her very existence.
“But he hurt you,” Ludwig continued, balling his hand into a fist, wishing the bastard was in front of him now. Did he not realize the gem he had been in possession of? While he was glad the idiot hadn’t, for it had given him a shot at Angelica, he still hated the fact that she had been hurt by Abelardo.
Angelica sighed. “Of course, I was hurt. I was embarrassed, my family was made a mockery right along with me, all because I had not seen he was not…the right man for me to marry.”
“He didn’t deserve you.” Ludwig saw the rage simmering in her eyes, tinged with the hurt she had experienced in her past. “I promise you, neither he, nor anyone else will ever hurt you again.”
Angelica lifted her gaze to his, giving him a faint smile. “Have you turned into my protector as well?”
A smile played on his lips. “Depends on what the role requires, Princess.”
“I believe you’ll like it.” She returned his smile and crawled over his body. “I never dreamed I’d meet someone like you.”
He made a serious face as if thinking. “Strong?”
A chuckle escaped her. “Yes.”
“Sharp of wit and skilled?”
“Of course.” Another chuckle.
“Ah. And handsome?” At that he raised a brow, as if daring her to deny it.
“Absolutely.” Shyly, she whispered close to his lips, “But I mean a…male friend…because boyfriend seems too adolescent. Oh, I don’t know what to call you! Lover, perhaps?”
He savored her earnest and eager words deep in his heart. “Just call me yours. That is all I want to be.”
“Mine.” She blinked, running her palms over his chest, as if she hadn’t thought about that possibility and needed to assure herself he was real and was offering himself to her. “But you wouldn’t be irked by my…tendencies?”
“Your tendencies?” He frowned. All was well if she wanted to call him by a title. She just needed to realize why she was labeling him.
“I’m stubborn, argumentative, and…and I fear, considering…erm, my sexual introduction was a bit late, I might be…potentially licentious.” She didn’t stare at him as she said these things. She didn’t want to see how he would take it. She probably shouldn’t have told him that.
“Lovely.” There was a pause before he complemented in an amused voice, “My favorite kind of woman.”
“You’re very droll.”
“Me? Why?” He held up his hands. “I wasn’t joking.”
“No man wants a woman who argues with him,” she said. “Or a…licentious woman.”
He laughed. “You, Kätzchen, have a very odd idea of what men like in a woman. Most men I know prefer a woman who favors a good, long night of…” He trailed off.
She stared at him expectantly and when he didn’t finish, she asked, “Of what?”
He slapped her ass. “Of argument, you naughty girl.”
“Oh, they don’t. You wouldn’t.”
“Angelica, we can argue all night over the general preferences of the male sex, but we cannot argue about what I like. So let’s change topics, unless we lose a good night without arguing.”
The brilliant smile she gave him was cut by a huge yawn. “I’ll take a raincheck on arguing.”
He stretched out his hand and pressed the button to close the electric shutters and windows.
She found herself smiling and not even knowing why.
The grin on her face was wide and contagious. “What?”
“You make me happy.”
“Likewise,” he breathed on her lips, giving her a slow, leisurely kiss. Then pulled her to his side and spooned her in the cocoon of his arms.
He knew when she drifted to sleep. Her breathing changed and her fingers fell still on his skin.
He pulled her a little tighter against his body, careful not to crush her, but wanting to wrap himself more around her. “I’ll take a raincheck on anything you want, Princess.”
40
“Hija di puta,” Angelica hissed.
“Wow.” Ludwig raised his head from his own newspaper surprised to hear Angelica cursing. They were having breakfast together on the balcony overlooking the lake down below the cliff that the Harem was built on. “Someone really got to you.”
Ludwig hadn’t bothered to leave in the middle of the night like usual and he was glad that this morning when they had awakened, she hadn’t asked him to discreetly exit before the palace woke up.
“Look.” She flapped the newspaper open to the middle page, where photos of herself dining with Abelardo, being hugged by him, then punching his face, and leaving the hotel stamped the page under the headline: Royal Revenge?
She’d hoped that helping people at the bombing site had gained a little bit of good press and it would ease a little of the political fires. Not that she had done any thinking about a good image, but Ludwig had insisted that they would be idiots not to seize the moment. The whole family had split to make sure they visited all the injured in the hospitals, that they were present at the burials, and that they were at the people’s disposal.
If anything, it seemed to have rekindled a few enmities.
The only thing Emma Borell seemed to be reporting was that Aragon’s royal house was too busy using the bad luck of the people as a publicity stunt. She ended the article by asking if the royal family was planning on bringing the newly-found no-longer-poor sister to fool the people.
It didn’t help unruffle Angelica’s feathers that they were indeed planning on bringing Siobhan to Aragon. It was almost as if this woman had the ability to see the royal family through such a hard and cold filter that it stripped all the good intentions and glamour away, leaving only a cold, callous family interested in serving themselves at any cost.
They cared, whether anyone believed it or not. No one could accuse them of pulling a publicity stunt.
As a publicity stunt. The nerve of this woman.
“Emma Borrell is trying to gain a name for herself in politics by pointing out my faults.” She blew out a breath. I need to set Emma straight. “When I became engaged to Abelardo, she wrote some very scathing articles about the match, citing that Abelardo wasn’t everything he appeared…” to be. She turned to Ludwig, eyes wide. “Maybe she knows something?”
“She had been asking for an interview…” Ludwig noticed the wheels turning in Angelica’s mind. “Give her an exclusive. Give her something to bring her to your side.”
“I might be able to soften her blows, but bring her to my side? I’m sure that’s impossible.”
“Do you know what the worst problem is with the Aragon royal family?” He didn�
�t wait for her to continue before answering his own question, “All of you, except for Maria, keep the press away. You keep everyone away. And you don’t understand that good marketing sells shit.”
She looked at him with her mouth open for a moment. “What?”
“A good publicist with money to back him up will sell shit, and by shit, I literally mean feces. A publicist who knows what he is doing will convince you that shit—and it’s not your own shit—is nice, perfumed, cute even, and you won’t notice it. When the marketing is well done, you begin to find shit endearing.” At her incredulous expression, he picked up his cell phone and scrolled until he found what he wanted and turned the screen to her. “Marketing sells whatever it wants. It makes you send shit to your friends; makes you take shit to your bed and sleep embraced to it; makes you call your boyfriend shit—” He laughed at her scrunched nose. “I swear it. Amelia, my sister, called her ex-boyfriend Poo.”
“Well…” Slowly, as if his mobile was going to burn her, she picked it up and scrolled at the images on an article he had pulled up. Then she looked up and smiled sheepishly. “But you can’t deny, Pile of Poo is kind of cute.”
“You are cute, Kätzchen.” He laughed, but then tapped her nose and said seriously, “The Aragon royal family needs a good publicist, meanwhile, bring in the press, invite the enemy in. Give this Emma Borell an exclusive.”
“But what could tempt her enough?”
“We’re going to think about it, meanwhile, schedule an interview. Here, at the Harem.”
“You’re a genius, you know?” He had been really amazing; stepping up when it really mattered. She picked up the phone and made a call. “Malba? I need a favor.”
She invited the enemy in.
She hoped Ludwig was right. Otherwise, she’d just offered up her own head on a silver platter.
A hammer and a nail. She chuckled to herself as she remembered Ludwig telling her how he was going to teach her how to use them. Who would’ve thought that something so mundane could be sexually stimulating.
Royal Affair (Last Royals Book 2) Page 24