Princess in Peril

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Despite the relatively warm June weather they’d been experiencing, Levi knew the river was fed by the melting snow of the mountain streams and would likely be frigid. “Pull your feet up,” he whispered to the princess, doing the same.

  Unsure if the bolt he’d shot across the river had made solid purchase in the tree on the far side, Levi said a silent prayer that the lightweight pulley would hold them and that the grip of the line wouldn’t fail.

  The pulley groaned in his hand as the bank appeared just beyond them. “Lord, please don’t let us fall,” Levi whispered, just as he wondered how they might possibly land without crashing into the tree. The moment they reached the bank Levi let go of Isabelle, hoping she’d drop onto the soft earth before he braced himself for impact with the tree.

  But to his surprise, Isabelle clung to his shoulders, extending her legs as they flew toward the tree. He kicked out with his feet.

  They had no more than slammed into the tree when he let go of the pulley, simultaneously twisting around and trying to fall backward so he wouldn’t crush the princess.

  They came down in a tangle. Apparently Isabelle hadn’t anticipated that he would let go so quickly because she still clung to him as though for dear life, her face pressed against his shoulder as they fell.

  “Are you all right?” Levi whispered, wanting to attend to the princess but at the same time aware of the urgent necessity of cutting loose the zip line. Though they’d taken the only pulley across, the men could still easily use the line to reach them.

  Clearly stunned by the fall, she panted audibly before whispering, “I’m fine. We should find cover, though. I can’t imagine those goons will let us get away that easily.”

  Relieved that she hadn’t been injured, he looked across the river and saw the first of their burly attackers making his way hand-over-hand along the zip line. He was nearly halfway across the river—and the second man wasn’t far behind.

  “Cover yourself,” Levi instructed Isabelle, stepping in front of her as he pulled out his gun and shot the spot where the bolt was embedded in the tree. Splinters of wood exploded from the tree, exposing most of the bolt. Levi shot the spot again, standing clear as the bolt snapped free of the tree. With sharp cries, both of their attackers plunged into the frigid river. A moment later, all Levi could see was swirling water.

  Unable to spot any sign of Dom on the other side, Levi risked calling out to him, “Are you all right, old friend?”

  Dom’s voice sounded weary. “A little worse for wear, but I’ll be fine. The moment those two realized who was getting away, they lost interest in me.”

  “Glad to hear it! If you can get a message to the office in New York, let them know we’re on our way. But be careful!”

  “You’re the ones who need to be careful.” Dom’s voice boomed back, stronger already. “Godspeed to you!”

  “And to you!” Levi had spotted a wall of stacked split logs while he spoke to Dom. Pulling the princess up after him, he whispered, “This way!” and dashed toward where Dom had said the motorcycle could be found. He didn’t know how many others might be right behind their two attackers. They’d have to move quickly.

  Isabelle looked back at the Mursia River as Levi pulled her away from its banks. She tried to catch sight of the men who’d attacked them, but clouds had rolled in, obscuring even the pale light of the moon, and Isabelle could see nothing but the roiling waters. Had the men been swept downstream? Or were they even now crawling up the Albanian bank?

  She turned her attention to Levi, who wrestled with something among the logs. “Can I help you?” She tried to catch her breath from her fight with the huge guy who’d jumped her. Fear chased up her spine, but she shivered it away, reassuring herself that Levi had been there. He’d rescued her from that awful man and his breath-crushing grip. Perhaps she could trust Levi—as much as she could trust anyone.

  “I’ve got it,” Levi whispered, pulling back a tarp before tugging on something that looked like handlebars.

  “Is that a motorcycle?” Isabelle asked, blinking at the chrome just visible in the darkness.

  “Yes.” Levi threw aside an armful of logs, freeing the rear tire. “This is our ride to the airport.”

  Isabelle had been wondering how they would make the 250-kilometer trip to Albania’s only international airport, which was nearly a four-hour drive from the Lydian border. She felt inside the waistband of her jeans to where she’d tucked her satin clutch, which held her cash and her phone. She didn’t dare use her phone—there was too great a likelihood that the insurgent forces might be able to trace any calls she made. The longer she could stay off the radar, the better.

  And the motorcycle looked like it would do the trick. “Do we have helmets?” she asked.

  “Two.” Levi unearthed them once he’d freed the bike, tapping the helmets together to shake out debris from the woodpile. “Now let’s get moving. Those thugs who attacked us probably alerted others to our location before they jumped us. If they had confederates at the border station, they might cross into Albania and follow the highway looking for us—and that’s the road we’ll have to use to get to Tirana. Our only hope is to move faster than they do.”

  Nodding, Isabelle accepted the helmet and strapped it on. She didn’t mind the idea of riding a motorcycle, but she sincerely wished she’d managed to secure more practical footwear. However, Levi was right. Their top priority was getting to the airport as quickly as possible. And maybe she would find a pair of boots or sneakers in one of the shops and boutiques inside the airport. She hadn’t flown through the Albanian airport in a few years, but she recalled that it had enjoyable shopping.

  Levi straddled the bike and patted the seat behind him.

  With a gulp of courage, Isabelle hopped on the bike behind Levi. She had no more than tentatively wrapped her hands around his broad shoulders than he revved the engine and the bike moved forward.

  They rumbled toward a rutted path in darkness.

  “Perhaps you should turn on the headlight,” she suggested.

  “I don’t want to give away our position.”

  “The engine noise does that.” She found herself leaning close to his ear to be heard above its rumbling. “And we’ll move faster if we can see where we’re going.”

  “All right.” Levi clicked on the light. “Pray this doesn’t make us a target.”

  Isabelle pinched her eyes shut and prayed. The motorcycle picked up speed along the rutted road, and she could feel Levi shifting his weight from one side to the other to keep them from tipping on the uneven track. Hoping to help balance the bike, she focused on moving with him as he leaned to one side and then the other. The last thing they needed was to wipe out and injure themselves or damage the bike.

  “Oh, Lord, get us out of here in one piece.”

  “What?” Levi’s question made Isabelle realize she’d started praying out loud.

  “Sorry. I was just praying.”

  “Well, keep it up. Here’s the highway. Those guys’ buddies could catch up to us anytime.”

  “Right.” Isabelle peeked her eyes open just enough to see the paved track that wound its way up from the Mursia River through the mountains. Though she hated to think how easy they’d be to find on the highway, she knew of no other passable route through the jagged peaks. At least she’d gotten safely out of her own country. She could only hope the insurgents would move about less freely here.

  With a smooth road stretching out before them, Levi picked up the bike’s speed considerably. Isabelle relaxed now that she no longer had to worry about taking a spill on the rutted mountain path. She could feel exhaustion weighing on her, and realized she’d been up since six that morning. Though she wasn’t about to attempt to pull out her phone to check the time, she knew it had to be well after midnight, and she was tired.

  Gradually, as no one caught up to them and the road twisted endlessly before them, Isabelle’s fears receded enough for her to contemplate the fix she was in.
With her arms wrapped tight around Levi’s shoulders and her body pressed to his, it was difficult not to think about the man who had done so much to secure her liberty.

  She’d hadn’t missed the compliment he’d paid her back in Dom’s office—his comment that the Sanctuary agents had to make her picture uglier, since she couldn’t be any prettier. Warmth spread through her at the memory of his kind words. Had he been trying to flirt with her? He didn’t act flirtatious otherwise, but as she’d admitted to him already, she didn’t have any experience with men. How would she know if he felt something for her? She felt her grip on his shoulders relax slightly as she pulled hesitantly away from him.

  Levi nudged her with his elbow. “Don’t fall asleep,” he cautioned her. “I don’t want you to fall off the bike.”

  Rather than let him believe she could possibly nod off with danger so close on their trail, Isabelle held on more securely, tucking her head against his broad back, out of the wind. Levi was a good man. And maybe she wouldn’t mind if he felt something for her.

  After her experiences with Tyrone Spiteri, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with romance. But as she held tight to Levi’s strong shoulders and their motorcycle hurtled through the mountains, she realized for the first time that she might not be so against falling in love, if she could fall in love with someone like Levi.

  Deep darkness had settled over the landscape. As they approached Tirana, Albania’s capital city, Isabelle wondered if she didn’t see a hint of light in the east, or if it was simply the light of the city ahead of them. Rinas International Airport was located just northwest of the city, and they were approaching from the south, so they’d have to skirt the western edge of the metro area to get there.

  Several headlights pierced the sky behind them. “Can you tell if we’re being followed?” she asked Levi.

  “No idea. Too many people are traveling into the city. The sun will be rising soon. I’ll do what I can to keep ahead of whoever might be following us, but I don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves, either. As long as we’re not attacked, I’ll be happy.”

  Isabelle settled back as Levi followed the signs that pointed the way to the airport. When they arrived Levi found a place to park the bike, and Isabelle’s legs wobbled unsteadily as she climbed off.

  Immediately Levi’s steady hand supported her back. He met her eyes. “You all right?”

  “Just tired.” She blinked back the sleep that had been creeping up on her all morning.

  “You can sleep once we get on a plane. Until then, let’s try to stick together.” He discretely unbuckled a holster and gun, lifting the seat of the bike and depositing the weapon in the storage compartment. Isabelle realized it would do far more harm than good to attempt to bring the weapon inside, but she felt a twinge more vulnerable leaving it behind.

  “Do me a favor.” Levi reached toward her, plucking up the hood of her sweatshirt and settling it over her head. “Try to keep yourself covered as much as possible. I know this isn’t your home country, but your picture is bound to have been on the news. Even if we’ve given the insurgents the slip, we can’t risk anyone recognizing you. Not yet.” He gently pulled the hood forward but didn’t seem satisfied by what he’d accomplished. “Can you wear your hair down?”

  “I never wear my hair down.”

  “Exactly. You’re always pictured with it swept up. Even on your mission trips you wear it up in a ponytail.” His hands rested on the pins that held her upswept hair in place.

  “Good point. You’ll have to help me.”

  With the rising sun threatening to shed light on their actions, Isabelle worked quickly to pluck the pins from her hair, letting the disheveled curls fall past the sides of her face.

  “Now we’ll try the hood.” Levi pushed her hair forward as he settled the hoodie atop her messy mane. “How’s that?”

  “Itchy.”

  He made a face, then pulled out his sunglasses and perched the oversize shades on her nose. A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “There. You hardly look like a princess.”

  Isabelle couldn’t help smiling with relief that he’d managed to disguise her identity somewhat. “Itchiness is a small price to pay in exchange for anonymity. Now let’s get rid of your beard so no one recognizes me because of you.”

  They entered the airport and immediately the bright lights and early-morning stream of passengers made Isabelle feel slightly better. Levi found the ticket desk and used his own credit card to buy tickets for the next available flight to New York City via Rome.

  She breathed a sigh of relief once that important step was completed and they’d made it through security to the departure area, where many of the shops were located. They still had a couple of hours before the flight would board. “Let’s get rid of that beard.” She gave Levi’s scruffy chin a pointed look. “And I’d like to get some more practical footwear, if that’s at all possible.”

  They found sneakers in her size and comfortable socks to go with them. When Levi once again used his credit card to pay, all Isabelle could do was pray the insurgents hadn’t matched his name to the face on the Embassy security camera—and she promised to pay him back as soon as she had the chance.

  After grabbing a bite to eat, they picked up a shaving kit, but Levi balked when Isabelle suggested he leave her alone while he went into the men’s room to shave.

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “What are you going to do—shave in a drinking fountain? Besides, I’d like to use the ladies’ room before we board our flight.” She watched Levi’s eyes narrow slightly—a move she’d already come to associate with him digging in his heels.

  He led her to a large map of the airport on a brightly lit central kiosk.

  “There.” He pointed to a mark on the map. “Family rest room.”

  She rolled her eyes at the stubborn man. “We’re not a family.”

  “No—” he linked his arm through hers and led her in the direction of the restroom “—but it only has one door, so no one can walk in on you and carry you off. I’ll stand guard outside.”

  Because there didn’t appear to be any families waiting to use the special restroom at the early hour, Isabelle relented to allowing Levi to stand guard outside while she went in. After freshening up and brushing out the last of her royal hairdo, she stepped out. “Now it’s your turn. I’ll stand guard.”

  “You’re not going to stand alone out in the open.” Levi tugged her back inside the restroom. “You can wait in here while I shave.”

  Uncomfortable as she may have felt sharing the small room with him, Isabelle knew Levi had a point. And because he promised not to do anything more personal than shave off his beard, she figured it wasn’t too inappropriate. As he’d pointed out several times already, she had a royal duty to stay safe. If that meant standing by while Levi shaved, it was a small price to pay.

  Unsure if she ought to be looking at him, Isabelle could identify little else in the tiny room to keep her attention and found herself watching Levi as the white shaving foam he’d bought was peeled back by the razor, leaving a trail of tanned skin behind.

  “You’re not used to wearing a beard, are you?”

  “No. Our fathers agreed it would be best if I disguised my appearance somewhat because I was a member of the Lydian army for four years and we weren’t sure who might recognize me—good or bad.”

  “Our fathers?” Isabelle repeated.

  “My father worked with yours to coordinate my position filling in for Alfred.”

  Having accepted Levi’s hasty explanation for his role in protecting her back when they’d navigated the catacombs, Isabelle now realized she understood precious little about how he’d been appointed. “Why did they select you to guard me?”

  Levi focused his eyes on his reflection in the mirror as he shaved and moved his mouth little as he explained, “None of the royal guard could be trusted. We had no way of knowing who else might be in league with the insurg
ents. When King Philip called the Sanctuary office, my father recognized that whoever was sent to protect you would need some level of familiarity with Lydia. Because I had spent so much time in the country, I was the obvious choice.” He tapped his razor against the sink.

  Piecing together the bits of the story he’d shared with her, Isabelle clarified, “So you’re usually a bodyguard in the United States?”

  Finished shaving, Levi turned on the water. “I’m not usually a bodyguard. I work for Sanctuary as a lawyer.” He bent his head over the sink and splashed water on his face.

  Isabelle studied the smudged white tuxedo shirt that stretched across Levi’s well-muscled back as he washed the last of the shaving foam from his face. His jacket had never made it across the river. She pulled a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to him as he turned off the water.

  “You’re a lawyer?” The revelation made her consider how close she’d come to being captured so many times—and she hadn’t even had a real bodyguard to protect her. “That’s the best Sanctuary had? They couldn’t even send a real bodyguard?”

  He lowered the paper towels from his face and his cold blue eyes met hers. For the first time she saw his whole face without the shaving foam and without the beard.

  Oh, was he handsome!

  Her heart gave a little flip as she saw—really saw—for the first time the man who’d saved her life so many times. With his face and neck bare of the dark hair, he suddenly seemed more human, and more vulnerable.

  And, oh, was he mad!

  He took a step closer to her in the tiny marble-tiled restroom. “I got you safely out of the country, didn’t I? How many thugs have I wrestled in the past twelve hours? How many times have I carried you?”

  Isabelle swallowed and tried to look away, but his eyes held hers. She couldn’t answer his questions—she’d lost count already. And she couldn’t think straight with the sudden realization that had hit her.

  She didn’t want Levi to be upset with her. If they’d met under different circumstances, she could well imagine herself having a crush on him.