The Princess's Bodyguard

by Beverly Barton

  "You're here at last!" Dia threw open her arms and encompassed Adele in a best-friends hug. "I have your room ready and have told Theo that you'll be staying with us for a week."

  Adele hugged Dia, who stood several inches taller than she, then released her and grasped her hands. "And what did you tell Theo about my visit?"

  "The truth," Dia replied, then broke into a wide grin. "Well, as much of the truth as he needs to know. You understand how my Theo is. An old-fashioned man but a dear one."

  "Old-fashioned? Don't you mean he's a male chauvin­ist?"

  Both women laughed.

  "What's a chauvinist?" Phila Constantine asked as she came forward and stared quizzically at Adele.

  "Phila, sweetheart." Adele turned from mother to daughter, bent down and kissed Phila's rosy cheeks. "You've grown a foot since I last saw you." Adele patted the child's head, then glanced past her to the nanny. "Miss Sheridan, you're going to have to put some heavy books on Phila's head to slow down her growth, or the next time I visit, she'll be as tall as I am."

  The Constantines' nanny, Faith Sheridan, smiled timidly and nodded. "Yes, ma'am, Your Highness."

  "Aunt Adele, you didn't tell me what a chauvinist is. That's what you called my papa, isn't it?" Phila's big brown eyes, identical to her father's, stared at Adele.

  "Talk yourself out of that one," Dia said.

  Adele took Phila's hand into hers as the group walked toward the villa's entrance. She stopped abruptly when she heard Dia issue orders to the chauffeur to bring in her luggage.

  "Oh, I'm afraid I didn't bring anything with me. I left in a bit of a hurry."

  Dia's cheeks flushed. She cleared her throat. "Oh, no problem. We'll go shopping directly after lunch and buy whatever you need. If we were the same size, I'd be happy to lend you anything of mine, but you're pounds lighter and inches shorter." Dia turned to the chauffeur. "That will be all, Peneus. But Her Highness and I will be going back to Dareh in about two hours."

  "Yes, madam."

  When the foursome, along with the playful spaniels, en­tered the massive entrance hall with its white marble floor, Phila tugged on Adele's hand.

  "What is a chauvinist?" Phila demanded.

  Dia moaned. "You must answer her, Adele. Other-wise, she'll nag you until you do. She's just like Theo that way. Insistent to the point of aggravation."

  "Well, a male chauvinist is a man who. . .who is rather old-fashioned in his ideas about women," Adele said, and thought that she'd given a rather diplomatic response.

  "My papa likes women." Phila beamed with delight. "He tells me all the time that he adores me and Mama.

  And he's very nice to Faith and Mrs. Panopoulos and Aunt Dora and—"

  "Yes, yes, my pet." Dia placed her hand on her daugh­ter's shoulder. "Papa is a wonderful, old-fashioned man and we love him dearly, don't we."

  "Yes, Mama." Phila turned to Adele again. "I'm to be allowed to have dinner with you and Mama and Papa to­night. And so is Faith. Aren't you pleased?"

  "Yes, I'm very pleased. Your parents must think you're quite grown up to allow you to join the adults for dinner."

  "Only tonight, because it's a special occasion."

  "I see."

  "Phila, please go with Faith." Dia tapped the face of her wristwatch. "It's time for your music lessons. Mr. Mylonas is waiting."

  "Yes, Mama. Bye Aunt Adele." Phila went with her nanny, but before she got five feet down the corridor lead­ing to the music room, she turned back and called, "I'm so glad you've come for a visit."

  The companion spaniels kept pace with Phila and Miss Sheridan as they disappeared down the hallway. Dia led Adele to the sunroom, a twenty-foot by thirty-foot pavilion that had once been part of the enormous central courtyard. Potted trees and large plants, some flowering, gave the area a garden atmosphere. The glass and metal table was set for two with exquisite china, crystal and silver.

  "Sit, sit," Dia instructed. "We'll have something light here at the house because I want to take you to this mar­velous cafe in Dareh for a midafternoon snack. They have fabulous coffee and tea and scrumptious desserts."

  The moment the two women sat, a servant appeared carrying fruit salads, and another brought a bottle of chilled white wine and filled their glasses. Then the two silently disappeared, leaving the old friends alone.

  "So, how long will it be before your father telephones Theo and demands your return to Golnar?'' Dia asked.

  "I'm not sure. It depends on how persuasive Matt—Mr. O'Brien—was when he spoke to Father. If he believes Mr. O'Brien can deliver me to the palace, then he might not bother Theo. However, my guess is that when Father re­alizes I won't be returning immediately, he'll speak to Theo." Adele studied Dia's frowning face. "Is my being here a problem for you?"

  "No, of course not. It's just that if your father is more persuasive than you are, Theo might be inclined to agree with King Leopold. You do realize that even though he likes you a great deal, Theo has always thought you were a bad influence on me. It amazes him that an Orlanthian princess has such a modern, twenty-first-century attitude toward men and women, democracy and. . .well—" Dia waved her hand in a circular motion "—about every­thing."

  "As I recall, when we attended boarding school to­gether, you were considered a modern thinker yourself."

  Dia smiled. "Yes, and I'm afraid sometimes I annoy my husband."

  "Then it's a good thing the man worships you." Adele lifted her glass of wine to her lips and took a sip. "'Besides, I believe that by the time Phila is a teenager, she'll have brought her papa's attitudes into the twenty-first century."

  Deftly changing the subject, Dia said, "Tell me about this Mr. O'Brien. How ever did you talk him into allowing you to come to Golnar without him?"

  "I didn't. Not exactly. He'll be arriving later today."

  "And will he expect to stay here?"

  Adele nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. And in a room next to mine, if that's possible. You see, even though my father has hired him to return me to Golnar, Matt. . .er. . .Mr. O'Brien seems to consider himself my bodyguard."

  "You keep referring to him as Matt. Just how well did you become acquainted with this man during your brief encounter?''

  "Not well at all, I can assure you. He's totally Ameri­can. Rather crude and rude, without any regard to my po­sition. He kept calling me honey, as if I were some peasant girl."

  Dia's lips twitched. "He called her Highness, Princess Adele Johanna Milisande Reynard, honey? My dear, he sounds perfectly delightful. And what every woman se­cretly wants—a man she cannot intimidate. Let's be hon­est, most members of the male population of Europe are intimidated by your title."

  "I do not want Mr. Matt O'Brien!" Adele protested quite vehemently. "The man is uncouth and disrespect-ful. And when I saw him last, he badly needed a shave and a haircut."

  "You have me dying of curiosity," Dia said. "I simply cannot wait to meet your protector."

  Matt arrived in Golnar midafternoon. His flight had been delayed due to some sort of mechanical problems that had to be taken care of before takeoff. He'd grabbed a quick bite at the Vienna airport, but his growling stomach re­minded him that it was past time to eat. With only a duffel bag to carry through customs, he whisked through the Dareh airport in record time, rented a car—an older model Fiat—with no air-conditioning, no radio and reeking of cigarette smoke. The dealership had apologized about the car, but told Matt it was best they had left from a small fleet of rentals. It seemed autumn was the peak tourist season on Golnar. Using the directions that Adele had writ­ten down for him before she'd left Vienna, he headed out of the city and along the narrow winding highway leading to Coeus. As a Pave Low pilot during his years in the Air Force, he and the five other crewmen that had been re­quired to fly the twenty-one-ton behemoth had set their MH-53J down in many foreign countries. Some lands had seemed truly alien to him. Ugly barren deserts or miles and miles of little more than humid swamps. But Golnar was a Mediterranean paradis
e, a Greek isle with a Middle Eastern flair. As he passed the open markets the smell of food lured him to stop, but he resisted the urge and con­tinued his journey. Thirty minutes later he pulled up in front of a set of massive stone pillars connected by a scroll-design iron gate that, thankfully, was open. He drove di­rectly up to the villa. The damn thing was as big as a small hotel. But why shouldn't Theodosios Constantine reside in a sprawling estate. From the rushed report he'd been given over the phone from the Dundee Agency's own Lucie Evans, a former FBI agent, Constantine was a billionaire many times over and practically owned the entire island of Golnar. Over a third of the population owed their live­lihoods to the Constantine family, whose shipping empire, begun by Theo's grandfather, had broadened to numerous enterprises over the decades.

  When Matt knocked at the twenty-five-foot-tall front doors, a male servant responded and asked Matt something in Greek, a language in which he knew only half a dozen words.

  "Do you speak English?" Matt asked.

  "Yes, sir, I speak English," the small, slender, dark-haired man replied with a heavy accent.

  "I'm Matt O'Brien. Princess Adele is expecting me."

  "The princess not here. Gone. She and Mrs. Constan­tine."

  "Gone? Gone where?" "To Dareh. To shop."

  "Damn!" What was she thinking? Didn't she realize that just as her father had figured out she would run straight to Golnar, so would whoever the hell was after her—be that person Dedrick or someone else connected to the Royalists.

  "Do you know exactly where in Dareh they went?" Matt asked.

  "No, not know. Shopping. Many stores."

  "It's important that I find Princess Adele. Is there any­one here at the villa who might know exactly where they went?"

  The servant shook his head.

  "I might be able to answer that question," a deep male voice said in slightly accented English.

  Matt glanced past the servant to the dark-eyed, black-haired man entering the grand foyer from the right. He was about six feet tall, lean and quite fit. Matt surmised, from the description of Theo Constantine Lucie had given him over the phone, that this man must be the lord and master of the villa.

  "Mr. Constantine?"

  "Yes, I'm Theo Constantine. Who, may I ask, are you and what is your business with Princess Adele?''

  Figuring the wisest course of action was to wait for the man to come to him, Matt did just that. Theo moved for­ward with languid movements, totally unhurried and with an air of utmost confidence.

  "I'm Matt O'Brien." Matt held out his hand. "King Leopold hired me as the princess's bodyguard. I'm to pro­tect her until she returns to Orlantha."

  Theo shook hands with Matt. "You're an American." Theo's black eyes narrowed speculatively as he released Matt's hand and stared at him.

  "Yeah. Yes, sir. I'm with the Dundee Agency out of Atlanta, Georgia, in the good old U.S.A." Matt whipped out his I.D. for Constantine's inspection.

  "Why would King Leopold hire an American security officer to protect the princess when he has his own royal guards?" Constantine asked as he studied Matt's I.D., then returned it to him.

  Just as Matt had figured. Either Adele had left out some pertinent information when she'd telephoned her friend or Dia Constantine had chosen to leave her husband in the dark about Adele's predicament. Hell, he hated being caught in the middle this way. But past experience had taught him that in most cases honesty was the best policy. He had enough trouble as it was with the princess—he certainly didn't need to make an enemy out of a man as powerful as Constantine.

  "May I speak frankly—man-to-man?" Matt asked.

  Theo dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand, then motioned for Matt to come with him. "Join me in the library for a drink, won't you, Mr. O'Brien?"

  "Thanks."

  Matt followed Theo down the hall and into a two-story library with a carved metal spiral staircase leading from the main level to the second. The walls of the upper room were lined with bookshelves, which were filled with thousands of books. The downstairs contained a man's pri­vate den-cum-home office, with a large fireplace, heavy wooden furniture and modern office equipment, everything from a computer with a twenty-inch monitor to a bank of telephones.

  "You look like a whiskey man to me," Theo said. "Scotch all right?"

  Matt nodded as he continued visually exploring the li­brary. "Quite a room. Do you manage your holdings from here, Mr. Constantine?"

  Theo punched a button on the wall, and a painting dis­appeared behind a slender, antique commode to reveal a well-stocked glass and chrome bar. As he lifted a bottle of scotch and undid the lid, Theo replied, "Yes, I can handle everything from here. But I do have an office in Dareh. However, I must admit that I work from home as much as I do from the city. I prefer the tranquility here at the villa, and I enjoy the extra time it gives me with my wife and daughter."

  "An ideal situation," Matt said. "One of the privileges of being a very rich man."

  Theo poured the whiskey and handed one glass to Matt and kept the other. "Yes, one of the privileges." Theo lifted the liquor to his lips and sipped. "Now, Mr. O'Brien, what would you like to say to me, man-to-man?''

  Matt took a hefty swig of the fine, aged scotch and let the whiskey burn a sweet trail down to his belly. He didn't think he'd ever tasted anything finer. "Princess Adele ran away from the palace when her father refused to cancel her wedding to the Duke of Roswald."

  Theo cocked his eyebrows as he focused his attention directly at Matt. "So that is why it was reported she was seen in Paris with that ne'er-do-well Yves Jurgen." Theo sipped his whiskey, then motioned for Matt to sit. "I can't say that I blame Adele for not wanting to marry Dedrick. The man's a pretentious idiot, but King Leopold has been determined to fulfill the obligations of Adele's engagement to the duke, even though the practice of betrothing children is outrageously archaic."

  Matt sat, sipped on the best damn scotch he'd ever drunk and said, "The king hired my agency to track down the princess and return her to Erembourg."

  "And you tracked Adele here, to my country?''

  Matt shook his head, then hurried through a shortened version of his brief association with the princess. He ended his tale with "So, I've agreed to give her one week's grace period. After that, I'll have no choice but to take her home."

  Theo grinned. "Interesting. Very interesting." Theo laughed. "I am not laughing at you, Mr. O'Brien. I am amused that Her Highness and my wife thought it neces­sary to keep me in the dark about Adele's true reason for coming to Golnar."

  "And why would they do that? Why would your wife think it necessary to be less than totally honest with you?''

  Theo chuckled. "Because I am an egotistical tyrant at worst and an overprotective, rather old-fashioned husband and father at best."

  "And if the princess's life was truly in danger, you wouldn't want your wife and child exposed to that dan­ger."

  "Mmm. Yes, I suppose that is why Dia thought it best not to inform me that Adele was running not only from her father, but from someone's rather inept henchmen."

  "I can assure you that if Dedrick, or whoever sent the first two goons, sends someone else after the princess, he will send someone more capable."

  "Then you truly believe that Adele is in danger?"

  "I'm not 100 percent sure," Matt said. "But I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. For a week, anyway."

  "Very well." Theo set his empty glass on a marble-topped antique mahogany table to his left. "If you will accept total responsibility for Adele while you are in Gol­nar, I have no objection to your staying here at the villa as her bodyguard."

  "Thank you." Matt finished off his whiskey and placed his glass beside Theo's. "Now, Mr. Constantine, where might I find the princess?"

  Theo smiled warmly, but his dark eyes surveyed Matt with astute perception. "I believe you are who you say you are, Matt, but you will forgive me if I make several quick phone calls to verify what you've told me."

&
nbsp; "Certainly," Matt replied. "Would you like for me to wait outside?"

  "That won't be necessary."

  Theo Constantine made three phone calls and although Matt tried to feign indifference, he couldn't help hearing the man's end of each conversation. After the third call— to Ellen Denby—ended, Theo turned to Matt. "Everything seems to be in order. I apologize if my—"

  "No apologies necessary," Matt assured him. "I'd have done the same thing in your place."

  "Dia was eager to take Adele to a new cafe in Dareh after their shopping spree. I believe you can find them on the east side of the city, at the Odyssea Cafe on Lidinis Street. It's a rather quaint old building painted a light shade of tan, and there is a red-and-white awning over the en­trance and the restaurant extends outside into a sidewalk cafe."

  Matt nodded, then stood. "You do understand, don't you, Mr. Constantine, that regardless of whether the prin­cess is willing, at the end of one week, I will be taking her to Orlantha and turning her over to her father?''

  Theo gazed at Matt, a serious expression on his face. "I believe your giving her an entire week was more than gen­erous of you, Matt. . .may I call you Matt?" Matt nodded. "And you must call me Theo. I have a feeling that by week's end you and I are going to be friends."

  Matt breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God Theo turned out be an all-right kind of guy. He understood that Matt had a job to do and he'd pretty much assured Matt he wouldn't get in his way.

  "I think for the duration of our stay here in Golnar, it might be wise for me to keep the princess here at the villa," Matt said. "Just in case."

  "You must do as you think best, but I warn you that Adele and Dia together are quite a formidable force," Theo said. "That is one reason I dread those two spending too much time together. Only God above knows what mis­chief they will get into."