The Princess's Bodyguard

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The Princess's Bodyguard Page 18

by Beverly Barton


  "So you thought you'd look me up so we could do what—talk? Play cards? Have a drink together?"

  She walked into the stateroom and closed the door be­hind her. "You weren't asleep, were you?"

  "I was until you woke me," he lied.

  "I'm sorry, I thought that you. . .that we—"

  "What's the matter, Princess, haven't you got the guts to tell me what you really want?" Matt chuckled. "I fig­ured you'd be back for some more good loving. After all, when a lady's had a taste of Matt O'Brien's particular brand of rough, crude lovemaking, she's bound to want more."

  Adele rushed across the room, flung off her robe to re­veal she wore nothing underneath, then threw her arms around Matt as she tumbled into bed with him. "Oh, shut up, you crude American beast, and make love to me."

  "Yes, ma'am!" Matt kicked the covers to the foot of the bed, then rolled Adele beneath him.

  She kept her hold around his neck as she lifted her hips and rubbed her mound against his hard sex. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked. "You wanted me to come to you, to beg you to make love to me."

  Matt kissed her, then lifted his head, stared into her big brown eyes and cupped her buttocks. When he lifted her to him and spread her thighs, her mouth opened on an expectant sigh.

  "I didn't hear any begging," Matt said. "I believe you gave me an order." He thrust into her, imbedding himself to the hilt in her receptive body. He loved the sound of her breathy gasps. "You told me to shut up and make love to you, and that's just what I'm going to do."

  Adele undulated up and down, sliding over him, arous­ing them both by her actions. "Less talk," she told him. "More foreplay."

  Matt laughed. God help him, he was crazy about this woman. She represented everything he disliked and dis­approved of. She was the last woman on earth he would have chosen to have an affair with, but now that he'd been with her, made love to her, seen her at her best and her worst, he wanted her desperately. If he wasn't very careful, Adele Reynard could easily become as essential to him as the air he breathed.

  Matt gave his bride what she wanted. More foreplay. He didn't leave an inch of her body untouched, loving her more thoroughly than he'd ever loved another woman. And together they reached new heights, their bodies mat­ing in perfect unison, their hearts and minds entwined.

  They spent the night making love, the way couples do on their honeymoons. And though their honeymoon was far from real, Matt could no longer see the difference.

  Midafternoon the following day, they arrived at the air­port in San Marino, Italy, to find that a bomb threat had closed the airport temporarily, possibly for the rest of the day. Matt and Adele agreed they should rent a car and head for Orlantha as soon as possible. Matt drove the Mer­cedes; Adele read the map.

  "I'm afraid I'm unaccustomed to having to find my way," she told him. "I always have other people to take care of those matters. I have drivers and guides, and at home there are always the private guards. Oh, Matt, I apol­ogize if I'm causing a problem with my inability to read a map correctly."

  "You're doing okay, honey," Matt said. "Besides, I think I've got a pretty good idea which route we need to take once we cross over the border into Orlantha."

  "But one wrong turn and we'll be headed toward Berdina instead of Erembourg." Adele flung the map onto the floor and huffed loudly. "I'm totally useless outside my element."

  "You could learn," Matt told her.

  "Yes, I could, couldn't I?" She smiled at him. "I'm very bright, you know, and I learn quickly."

  "Yeah, I'm sure you do, but you'll probably never need to learn how to take care of yourself. Once we eliminate your problems back home, you'll become queen and your life will move right along as planned."

  "Yes, of course, you're right." She picked up the map, folded it neatly and placed it in her lap.

  Some wild part of Matt's nature had the crazy urge to turn the car around, to take Adele to the nearest airport in Italy and book flights to the U.S. He'd take her back to Atlanta with him, show her what it was like to live the way real people did. In Atlanta he might have a chance to keep her in his life. Matt knew that back in Orlantha, once Dedrick and the Royalists were eliminated as a threat, he would lose Adele. She would become a queen, with no room in her life for an American bodyguard.

  They crossed the border into Orlantha shortly before sunset and took the road around the mountains that would led directly into Erembourg. The mountain highway led them higher and higher around dangerous curves, often with deep ravines on either side. Traffic was light, allowing Matt to make good time, although he drove with care be­cause he was unfamiliar with the road and because he was carrying precious cargo.

  The headlights from a fast-approaching vehicle behind them hit the rearview mirror and momentarily blinded Matt. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed the rnirror and readjusted it to lessen the reflected glare.

  "I hate it when somebody does that," Matt said, as much to himself as to Adele.

  "Does what?" she asked.

  "Rides my bumper. If I made a sudden stop the car behind us would wind up in our trunk."

  Suddenly the dark sedan shot out into the oncoming lane and pulled up beside Matt and Adele. Before Matt realized what was going on, the car slammed into the side of their rental vehicle, shoving them off the road.

  Adele screamed.

  "Hang on, honey!"

  Matt struggled to maintain control of the Mercedes. The minute he managed to put their car back on the road—and say a quick prayer of thanks that they hadn't gone over the side of the mountain—Matt increased the car's speed and zoomed past their attacker.

  "What happened?" Adele asked. "What's going on?"

  "I think somebody sent a welcoming committee to meet us," Matt said.

  "But why? I don't understand. If Dedrick believes my father will disown me and choose him to be his successor, then why come after us? And how did they know we'd be traveling by— They must have had someone watching us, keeping tabs on us since we left Golnar!"

  The dark sedan caught up with them and rammed into the Mercedes's back end, jolting Matt and Adele. She screeched. Matt cursed and pressed the gas pedal flat on the floorboard, which zoomed their car out of reach. Matt took each curve at over a hundred miles an hour, and with each turn he prayed. The car behind them picked up speed, quickly closing in on them.

  Up ahead lay a sharp curve, with deep drop-offs on ei­ther side. When the sedan caught up with them, Matt maneuvered the Mercedes back and forth from one lane to the other, all the while hoping he wouldn't meet any on­coming traffic. And then he saw the headlights coming straight at them.

  Adele let out an earsplitting scream.

  Chapter 15

  Matt swerved the Mercedes back into the right-hand lane just as the approaching vehicle reached them. But the driver of the dark sedan directly behind them didn't have that option. So when he swerved, his car skidded in the loose gravel on the shoulder. Apparently, he lost control. Matt watched in his rearview mirror as the dark sedan dove headfirst off the road, through the fenced barrier and into the deep ravine. A loud explosion rocked the mountainside and flames shot up from the ravine into the black evening sky.

  Turned halfway around in her seat, Adele gasped, then cried out as she realized what had happened to their pur­suers. "Shouldn't we stop?" she asked.

  "No," Matt replied. "There's nothing we can do for them. And the people in the car we almost hit will notify the authorities. You don't want to wait around for the po­lice to find out that Princess Adele was involved, do you?''

  She shook her head. "No."

  Matt slowed the Mercedes, and they drove in silence for several miles. Adele felt the overwhelming need for com­fort, but she said nothing. Inside her head she was still screaming, still scared, still afraid they were going to die. She wanted to ask Matt again why the Royalists would have sent someone to kill them. Why would they need to kill her if they believed she would never ascend to the throne? Surely he
r father hadn't already forgiven her? No, that couldn't be the reason. It would take days, perhaps weeks for his rage to subside enough for him to forgive her.

  Matt broke the silence. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm not sure," she admitted.

  "Still pretty shook up, I guess." He stole a quick glance at her, then reached out and grabbed her hand. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you, honey. I promise you that I'll—"

  "We could have died."

  Matt squeezed her hand. "But we didn't. We're both okay. I was concerned something like this might happen," Matt said. "As long as there was a possibility that you'd marry Dedrick, they preferred to keep you alive. But now they don't really need you."

  "But why kill me, if they believe my father will disown me and choose Dedrick as—" Oh, my God! That was it! "Dedrick and anyone else close to my father would be concerned that if I return to the palace, I might be able to persuade my father to forgive me, perhaps even recognize my marriage to you.

  "We have to get through to the palace and persuade my father to allow us to stay there. We'll be safe in the palace. No one would dare—''

  "You won't be safe anywhere, not even the palace. I suspect that someone your father trusts isn't trustworthy, someone other than Dedrick. Lord Burhardt or Colonel Rickard or even Pippin Ritter." "Not Pippin."

  "No, probably not. But we can't rule out anyone else. Not until we know for sure."

  "And my father? Is he safe? They wouldn't kill him, would they?"

  Matt remained silent for several minutes, then said, "The sooner we get the proof we need, the better for everyone involved."

  King Leopold paced the floor in the grand hall outside his private office suite on the second floor of the palace. "The very nerve of the girl, bringing that man here. I told her that I would denounce her, denounce this marriage."

  Queen Muriel watched her husband from the sidelines, wringing her hands and shaking her head. "Leo, please, calm yourself. See Adele. Speak to her. You must find a way to solve this problem. She is your only child."

  The king stopped abruptly and glared at his wife. When he saw tears in her eyes, he went to her and pulled her into his arms. "Yes, yes, you're right, my dear. I will see Adele."

  Muriel lifted her head and smiled at the king. "And her husband, too?"

  Leopold growled his displeasure. "Yes, yes, and her husband, too. But only to tell them that I will never rec­ognize their marriage. Believe me, I have every intention of lambasting that dishonest American gigolo. He passed himself off as a detective, as a bodyguard!"

  "Don't upset yourself this way." Muriel patted Leo­pold's arm. "I really don't believe Mr. O'Brien is a gigolo. It's very possible that he truly loves Adele."

  King Leopold harrumphed. "Tell Colonel Rickard that

  I shall give my daughter and her husband an audience. And I wish Lord Burhardt to be present."

  "And Dedrick?"

  "Yes, Dedrick, also. Let's get this done. Today. I shall denounce Adele and arrange to make a public broadcast."

  Muriel stroked her husband's chest. "Do not rush into making a public announcement. There are many things to consider. You should give yourself some time to weigh all your options."

  "Are you saying that I shouldn't tell Dedrick that I am considering naming him my successor?"

  "I'm sure the Duke of Roswald is quite aware that he's the most likely choice to succeed you if Adele is deemed unworthy to take her place as queen of Orlantha."

  "She has proven herself unfit by defying my wishes, by marrying a man totally unsuited to be her consort."

  "I shall inform Colonel Richard and Lord Burhardt of your wishes."

  "Might as well send for Chancellor Dutetre and Vice Chancellor Ritter. We'll have the lot of them present. I should have the opinion of the council before I make a public broadcast."

  "Yes, my darling, that's very wise of you."

  Lisa Mercer ran into the entrance hall on the first floor where Adele and Matt waited for an audience with the king. She rushed straight to Adele, who opened her arms to her secretary and dear friend.

  "Your Highness. I've been so worried." Lisa hugged Adele, then pulled away and bowed. "Is it true? Are you married to Mr. O'Brien? The palace is abuzz with the news."

  Adele hated lying to dear Lisa, but she couldn't be hon­est with anyone, except Pippin, about her marriage to Matt.

  "Yes, we're really married. Matt and I fell in love at first sight and—"

  "There you are, you shameless creature you!" Dedrick Vardan, Duke of Roswald, entered the antechamber, Lord Burhardt and Colonel Richard on his heels. "If you had no regard for my feelings, surely you should have consid­ered what betraying me would do to your poor father."

  "Oh, put a sock in it, Dedrick," Adele said.

  Matt chuckled. Lisa gasped, her eyes wide as saucers.

  "Your Highness, it is good to see you home in Erem­bourg." Lord Burhardt bowed politely, then slanted his disapproving gaze toward Matt. "Naturally, His Majesty is upset about your sudden marriage. Colonel Rickard and I agree that annulment proceedings should be started im­mediately. It is the only sensible thing to do. . .the only way to assure your succession to the throne."

  "An annulment is out of the question," Adele said.

  "Is that so?'' Chancellor Dutetre entered the anteroom, his presence quite commanding despite his short, squat stature. He rubbed his fingertips over his thick, gray mus­tache. "Then, Your Highness, you must know that your actions will put the government in a state of panic. If the king refuses to recognize your marriage, if he were to dis­own you—"

  "We must do all within our power to prevent such a disaster." Pippin Ritter joined the growing crowd assem­bled in the grand entrance hall. He wore a gray sport coat, black trousers, a gray tie, white shirt and a sweater vest. The tip of his pipe peeked out from the top of his coat pocket, and a lock of his curly, brown hair rested in the center of his forehead. Adele smiled at her dear and trusted friend, but instead of returning her smile, he cast a warning glare at Matt.

  "I suggest we all go into the throne room," Colonel Rickard said. "King Leopold has summoned us and is no doubt awaiting our arrival."

  Within five minutes the entire assembly stood before the king of Orlantha. Holding Matt's hand tightly, Adele led him straight past the others and up to the foot of the king's throne. She bowed. Matt bowed, although it was against his nature to kowtow to anybody.

  "Father, I'd like to introduce my husband, Matthew O'Brien, of the United States of America."

  Grunting, the king took inventory, checking Matt from head to toe. "Mr. O'Brien and I have already met."

  "So you have. But he wasn't my husband then."

  King Leopold narrowed his dark gaze and frowned at Matt. "What have you to say for yourself? I hired you to bring my daughter home so that she could marry her be­trothed. What made you think that you had any right to—"

  "Don't speak to him in such a manner." Adele climbed the steps and walked onto the raised dais where the king sat on his throne. "Father, I know I've disappointed you, but I am here to beg your forgiveness and plead with you to welcome my husband."

  The king growled. "I will not forgive you. Did you think you could walk in here and wrap me around your little finger as you have done all your life? Not this time, Adele. You have gone too far. Tested my patience to the limit. I will not recognize this marriage of yours to a com­moner. An American commoner."

  "Please, Father, tell me what I must do to change your mind? I cannot bear that you are so angry with me."

  "If you mean that, then you will allow Chancellor Dutetre to arrange a discreet annulment, and we will make a formal announcement that there was absolutely no truth to the rumors that you had married your bodyguard."

  "No, Father. I can't—I won't dissolve my marriage to Matt."

  The king surged to his feet, his face red, his jaw tense. "Then I shall denounce you and your marriage in a public broadcast." King Leopold cast his g
aze on Dedrick. "And when I make my announcement, I shall name a new suc­cessor to the throne of Orlantha."

  Although her father had reacted the way she had known he would, indeed the way she had hoped he would, hearing the king declare such a harsh penalty unnerved Adele. It wounded her deeply. But in her heart she knew that her father would never follow through with his threat. She just hoped that Dedrick and the Royalists believed that he would.

  Queen Muriel instructed the household servants to pre­pare the princess's suite for her arrival. She issued orders for the palace staff to afford the princess's husband every courtesy. Since the fact that her father had all but disowned her was nothing more than unsubstantiated rumors to the servants, their demeanor toward Adele was the way it had always been. She remained their princess. Her orders were followed without question.

  Adele hugged her stepmother. "Thank you for being so understanding."

  Muriel caressed Adele's cheek. "We must allow your father to expel his rage, then in a few days we will talk to him again. You and I. And until then I will see to it that he doesn't make a public broadcast."

  Pippin Ritter bowed to the queen. "You are most kind, Your Majesty. The council is very grateful to you for in­terceding on the princess's behalf."

  "I understand," Queen Muriel replied. "We share a common goal. We both want to see Adele take her rightful place as queen of Orlantha."

  The queen smiled at Adele and then at Matt before she left the princess's private quarters. The moment the door closed behind Queen Muriel, Pippin turned to Adele.

  "The Dundee agents that Mr. O'Brien sent to us have compiled a list of suspected Royalists. If this list is correct, their number is small. But we have discovered that there are several influential people with connections to the Roy­alists. Unfortunately, we have not been able to identify them." Pippin looked at Matt. "Is there no word from your other source, this friend of Mr. Constantine's."

  "No word yet," Matt said.

  Pippin nodded. "Mr. Shea and Ms. Evans were able to gain the confidence of several Royalists. They were told that the ultimate goal is for Dedrick Vardan, as a distant cousin of both King Leopold and King Eduard of Balan­chine, to become king of the two countries and reunite them under the sole rule of a monarch."

 

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