The Princess's Bodyguard

by Beverly Barton

  "Save that for tonight," Theo called.

  Dia laughed. "Come on. You have to cut the wedding cake so the photographer can take more pictures before he leaves."

  The reception had been as lovely as the wedding, with more food than a hundred people could have eaten. Cham­pagne flowed, a small string quartet filled the house with music, and the photographer took roll after roll of pictures. Adele wasn't sure how she made it through those unbear­ably bittersweet hours. But she did. Perhaps her determi­nation to save Orlantha had given her strength. Or perhaps it was knowing that Matt would be with her through the days ahead, that she could count on him in every way.

  An hour after the reception officially ended and every­one had changed out of their dressy attire and into causal clothes, Matt and Adele entered Theo's office. They were moving on to the next phase of their plan.

  Their marriage was a ruse to buy time for Pippin, the Dundee agents and Mr. Khalid to find proof against Dedrick. For their plan to work, King Leopold would have to threaten to disown Adele, which she felt certain he would. Of course, Dedrick might or might not believe the king would eventually name him his successor and it was Dedrick's reaction that Matt had said was pretty much a luck of the draw. Even though Adele felt certain Dedrick would cease to think of her as a threat, Matt wasn't as certain. But she pointed out the obvious to him.

  "I'm already in danger from Dedrick, so what differ­ence will it make? I say we call my father now so that word will get to Dedrick immediately. I realize we have no guarantee how Dedrick will react, but I'm telling you— I know this man. He'll see my marriage to you as a god­send and—"

  "Why don't we wait until our return to Golnar before telling your father that we're married?'' Matt asked.

  "Because there's a good chance that my father's certain reaction of disowning me will actually keep me safe from Dedrick. It's worth taking a chance, isn't it?"

  "I don't know. Somehow my gut instincts sense danger either way. I just don't like taking a chance when your life is at stake."

  "I know my father and I know Dedrick. Please, Matt, let's do this my way."

  "Dedrick could decide that since you're married to me and of no use to him, he should eliminate you before you have a chance to return to Golnar and change your father's mind."

  Suddenly Theo Constantine swept into his office, his dark eyes filled with rage. "I have very bad news." He marched across his office and turned on the television. "It seems word of your marriage somehow leaked out and it's being broadcast on the evening news in Dareh."

  Adele's heart skipped a beat. "Oh, God! What if Father hears about my marriage before—"

  "I will find out who is responsible for this," Theo said. "How dare anyone here on Golnar betray my confi­dence!"

  Dia came rushing into her husband's office. "Adele, you should telephone your father before someone else does. Oh, my, what an unfortunate turn of events."

  The foursome listened as a local news anchor in Dareh finished his announcement about the princess marrying an American commoner at the home of Theo Constantine this very afternoon.

  "I have to call Father immediately." Adele looked to Matt for agreement.

  "Damn!" Matt scowled at the television. "Yeah, go ahead and call him. We don't have much choice now."

  Matt came to Adele's side. Theo and Dia sat together on the leather sofa. Adele held her breath as she dialed her father's private number. Just this once she wished Lord Burhardt wouldn't answer. No such luck.

  "This is the princess," she said. "May I speak with my father."

  "How are you, Your Highness?" "I'm fine, thank you."

  "Will you be returning home to Orlantha soon?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm setting sail on Theo Con­stantine's yacht tomorrow and should be home day after tomorrow."

  "How wonderful. Your father will be greatly pleased, as will the duke."

  "Please, tell my father that I wish to speak to him." "Certainly, Your Highness."

  Adele's gaze locked with Matt's. He squeezed her shoulder. She offered him a fragile smile.

  "Adele, my dear girl, Lord Burhardt tells me that you're coming home," King Leopold said. "I must say I'm de­lighted."

  "I. . .I hope you'll be just as delighted when I tell you my wonderful news." Adele took a deep breath. Matt's grip on her shoulder tightened.

  "What news?"

  "Father, you might want to sit down to hear this."

  "You're worrying me, Adele. But you said the news was wonderful, didn't you?"

  "It is wonderful." Please, God, help me convince him that I'm madly in love with Matt. "I. . .well, you see. . .I've fallen in love."

  "You've done what?"

  "I've fallen in love with Matt O'Brien, the Dundee agent you sent to find me and bring me home. He's the most incredible, wonderful, marvelous man I've ever met. Father, it was love at first sight for both of us."

  "Nonsense. You hardly know the fellow," King Leo­pold huffed. "Besides, the man's an American."

  "That American is my husband. Did you hear me, Fa­ther? Matt and I were married today, here in Golnar."

  "What!" the king shouted. "Have you lost your mind? You cannot marry someone else. You are betrothed to Dedrick."

  "I'm sorry, but I don't love Dedrick. I don't even like him. And I do love Matt. He makes me very happy."

  "I'll have that damn man drawn and quartered. I'll make you a widow before you—my God, Adele, don't you dare give yourself to him. Do you hear me? Dedrick will expect a virgin bride. You come home immediately and we'll have this marriage annulled."

  Adele giggled. Dedrick would expect a virgin bride? The whoremonger of Erembourg? "I shall do no such thing. I love Matt madly and I plan to remain Mrs. Mat­thew O'Brien for the rest of my life."

  King Leopold sputtered and fumed and cursed loudly, then he said what Adele had expected him to say. "If you are determined to defy me by staying married to that man, then I will have no choice but to denounce your marriage and to disinherit you. Tell him that. Tell your husband that you will not inherit the throne of Orlantha or one penny of my money. See if he wants to stay married to you then."

  Adele held her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to Matt. "He's threatening to disinherit me. No throne. No money."

  Matt took the telephone from her. "King Leopold. Matt O'Brien, here. I want you to know that I love your daugh­ter and I couldn't care less about her being a princess. And I don't want a dime of your money." Matt handed the phone back to Adele.

  For a split second she escaped into a fantasy world where her marriage to Matt was real and he meant every word he'd said to her father, that they were in love, mar­ried and planning on staying married for the next fifty or so years. But reality intruded all too soon. Her father growled ferociously.

  "Did you hear him, Father? No annulment. Not now. Not ever."

  "Then you leave me with little choice," King Leopold said. "I warn you."

  "I love you, Father. Matt and I will see you in a few days. After our honeymoon." She hung up the phone quickly, not wanting to listen to her father rant and rave anymore.

  She turned and laid her forehead on Matt's shoulder. He caressed the back of her neck, then patted her head in a comforting gesture. She lifted her head and smiled at him.

  "Well, it's done," she said. "And Father reacted just as I'd thought he would."

  "How long do you think he'll stay that angry?" Matt asked. "Once he's cooled off and forgiven you—forgiven us—we'll have lost our advantage."

  "It should take him a few days after I return to the palace, a week at most, before he forgives me. Despite all his outrage and hysterics, my Father loves me, and he would never disown me."

  "Let's hope we have a week," Matt said. "We need all the time we can get."

  "I am sure that Khalid will come through for us," Theo said. "If he cannot get the information you need about a rebel group in Orlantha, then no one can."

  Dia jumped up, clapped her hand
s together and said, "Enough of this! There will be time to deal with national crises once you are back in Erembourg, but for this eve­ning why not put your concerns aside and celebrate your wedding day."

  The others stared at Dia in puzzlement.

  "My dear, surely you haven't forgotten that this wed­ding today was a farce," Theo said. "How can Matt and Adele celebrate something that has no meaning for them?''

  Adele's breath caught in her throat. If only that were true. If only this day's events were meaningless to her. "Theo's right." Adele smiled at her best friend, her ma­tron of honor. "Dia, I know you're a romantic and you did everything within your power to make today special, but nothing has changed for Matt and me. He's still only my bodyguard."

  Dia frowned. "Yes, of course. Even so, we can still celebrate. We can toast to the success of your plan and celebrate how very cleverly you're fooling your father and Dedrick and all those nasty royalists."

  Theo chuckled. "Humor her." Theo pulled Dia close and kissed her cheek. "My wife is determined to celebrate something. So, let us adjourn to the parlor and open an­other bottle of champagne."

  Adele forced a smile. "One more drink, and then I think I'll say good evening. I'm rather tired after our big day."

  "Yeah, me, too," Matt said. "I never realized how nerve-racking getting married could be."

  Everyone laughed, even Adele, although she felt more like crying.

  "Can you believe our good fortune?'' Dedrick lifted his glass in a toast and clicked glasses with his comrade. "The foolish girl up and married some American oaf, the damn agent King Leopold sent to fetch her home. Can't help finding humor in the irony of it, can you?''

  "The king is angrier than I've ever seen him. He is threatening to disown the princess, and I am doing all I can to fuel his wrath. We don't want him having any sec­ond thoughts about publicly denouncing her."

  "I have every confidence in you," Dedrick said. "Keep whispering in his ear every chance you get. Whisper my name often. Once he has disinherited Adele, the people of Orlantha will expect him to name a successor." Dedrick tapped his chest. "And who else would he choose other than me, his dear cousin's only son?"

  "If Adele returns to the palace, she will try her best to convince her father to accept her marriage to this American commoner. We can't allow that to happen."

  Dedrick cocked one eyebrow. "Yes, I see your point. When it was possible to force her to marry me, we needed her. But now that she is married to someone else, she is expendable."

  "Exactly."

  "Then I see no reason not to dispose of her and her new husband. And, naturally, in his grief over the loss of his little princess, the king will tarn to me, who will be at his side, mourning right along with him."

  "The king says that Adele is returning to Orlantha by yacht, which will no doubt dock somewhere in Italy. Once they cross the border into Orlantha, we will have a very unpleasant surprise waiting for the princess and her bride­groom."

  Dedrick poured more champagne and made another toast. "To the future king of Orlantha and Balanchine."

  "To you, Your Majesty."

  Dedrick tossed back his head and laughed hardily, then downed the glass of champagne in one long swig.

  Chapter 13

  Matt supposed there were worse ways to spend a wed­ding night, but right offhand, he couldn't think of any. Logic told him that since the marriage wasn't real, then neither was the wedding night. But try using logic on a guy's libido. With or without a legal piece of paper that said Adele was his lawfully wedded wife, he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything. And that was saying a lot, because a poor kid from Kentucky had wanted a great deal in his thirty-six years on earth.

  Pacing the floor in his bedroom, which was connected to Adele's by a small sitting area, Matt kept enumerating all the reasons he'd be glad when this assignment was over. Once his marriage to the princess was annulled, he wasn't making any stops—not even Paris—on his way back to the good old U.S.A. He'd had enough of foreign countries, of exotic Mediterranean islands and of billion­aires, royalty and one brown-eyed princess in particular.

  What was Adele doing next door? he wondered. Had she already slipped into her gown and gone to bed? Was she sleeping soundly or was she as restless as he? Was she thinking about him the way he was thinking about her?

  His cell phone's unique ring jerked him from his fan­ciful thoughts and brought him back to the moment. He picked up the phone from where he'd tossed it onto the bedside table, then when he looked at the digital readout, he groaned. Ellen Denby! God, help him. He should have forewarned her about his marriage plans, explained the sit­uation to her and—The phone kept ringing.

  Matt punched the talk button and said, "Yeah, O'Brien here. And if you'll give me a minute, I can—"

  "You can what?" Ellen's normally deep, sultry voice was hard and cold. "You can explain why you've lost your freaking mind?"

  "I take it that King Leopold has been in touch with you."

  "Oh, most definitely. His Majesty is not a happy client. And you know what that means, don't you? If the client isn't happy, then I'm—"

  "Then, you're not happy, and if you aren't happy, then I'm a dead man. Right?"

  "Close enough."

  With the cell phone plastered to his ear, Matt began pacing again. "There's a logical explanation for—"

  "Did you marry Princess Adele today in Golnar?'' Ellen asked.

  Matt hesitated for a couple of seconds, then confessed, "Yeah, we got married."

  "Would you mind telling me why? You told me there was nothing personal between the two of you. When did that change?"

  "It didn't. Not exactly. This isn't a real marriage." Matt opened the French doors leading to the balcony. "No, that's not quite right. The marriage is legal, it's just not. . . We did it to buy more time for Pippin Ritter, the Dundee agents and Theo's friend Khalid to try to dig up some evidence against the duke." Matt walked outside and breathed in the night air, scented with a combination of the sea, autumn flowers and rich earth. "Who is Khalid?"

  "What?" Of all the things he'd expected Ellen to ask, that hadn't been one of them.

  "Theo's friend, Khalid. Who is he?"

  "I don't know really. Some guy who's got ties to the underbelly of society. He's supposed to have connections to just about every rebel and terrorist organization in the world."

  "And his name is Khalid? First or last name?"

  "Don't know. He's one mysterious dude. But kind of handy to have around when you're fighting off kidnap­pers," Matt said. "What's with all the questions about Khalid? When I reported in after the shootings, I told you that a friend of Theo's took out one of the kidnappers and—"

  "You're right. It's not important. I got sidetracked," Ellen said. "Back to your marriage. You do realize that your actions reflect badly on the Dundee Agency, don't you?"

  "We're trained to protect and ready to lay our lives on the line for a client. Right?"

  "Right. But you're forgetting one thing—King Leopold is our client."

  "Look, Ellen, I need you to trust me on this one. Take my word for it—in the end what we're doing will benefit the king."

  "Officially you're fired," Ellen told him sternly, then in a softer voice said, "Unofficially—good luck, Matt." "Thanks, boss lady."

  Matt ended the connection and dropped the phone into his pants pocket. Just as he turned to go back inside the villa, he caught a glimpse of movement on the balcony directly in front of Adele's bedroom. He stopped dead still, took a step forward and peered into the semidarkness. His pistol was in his room. Should he make a move without it? Surely Theo's guards hadn't let someone get past them, had they?

  "Who's there?" he called. "Come on out where I can see you."

  From out of the shadows, her body silhouetted in the moonlight, Adele walked toward him. "It's only me. I. . .I couldn't sleep, so I—"

  "Yeah, I couldn't sleep, either."

  "You were talking to your employer, weren't you
? Is she very angry with you for marrying me?"

  Matt grinned. "Angry? Yeah, she was at first, but she's cooled off now. I think firing me made her feel better."

  "She fired you? Oh, Matt, I'm so sorry, but I thought—Didn't you explain why we married, what we're trying to do?"

  "I explained," Matt said. "And if this all turns out the way we hope it will, then I'm pretty sure I can get my job back."

  Adele moved closer and closer. Matt was of two minds about what to do. One, he should take her in his arms and make mad, passionate love to her. Two, he should say good-night immediately and lock himself in his room until morning.

  "I've been very selfish, haven't I?" Adele came up to him, only inches separating their bodies. "I didn't give a thought as to how marrying me might affect your life, your career. Matt, I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me." She lifted her hand to his face and caressed his cheek.

  Holy Moses! Didn't she have any idea what looking at her in that lacy black peignoir set was doing to him? And listening to that soft, honeyed voice with just a hint of an accent? Did she have to touch him, too? Hell-fire, a man could resist only so much temptation.

  "Look, Princess. . ." Matt began backing away from her. "This might not be such a good idea. You and me, alone in the moonlight. You wearing that—" he raked his gaze over her body from breasts to thighs "—that sexy getup."

  She glanced down at herself. "I chose this from the four peignoir sets that Dia ordered for me because I thought it the least sexy, the least like something a bride would wear on her wedding night."

  Matt groaned, then swallowed hard. "If that one's. . . What the hell do the other three look like?" He held up his hand. "No, don't tell me."

  "This isn't my ideal wedding night, either," she said. "But it's preferable to any wedding night I would have had with Dedrick."

  The very thought of the duke kissing Adele, touching her, making love to her turned Matt's stomach. In all hon­esty he didn't like the idea of any other man coming any­where near his wife. "Just making sure old mule face never gets the chance to touch you is worth losing my job," Matt said quite honestly.