Princess in Peril

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “I could ask you the same question.” She rose and joined him on his way toward the door. “And how could I sleep when the future of my country hangs in the balance? Besides, there may be questions only I can answer.”

  Levi struggled to breathe as they made their way down the elevator and recognized the swelling in his heart as an unfamiliar heady sensation that had only ever afflicted him around the princess. She was the woman of his dreams. It was too bad they each belonged halfway around the world from the other.

  And after today, if things went well, he wouldn’t have reason to see her again. Perhaps then he would regain full use of his intellectual faculties.

  Until then, he would have to testify before an under-slept UN Security Council, with a distractingly gorgeous woman at his side. And if he did well, his father just might be convinced to let him be president of Sanctuary International after all.

  They ducked into the limo Nicolas Grenaldo had insisted on hiring for the princess, even though Levi suspected she might have been more comfortable in a cab. He pulled her hand into his. Her fingers felt cold despite of the warm day.

  “Nervous?”

  “I’m beyond nervous.” She turned her lovely eyes toward him. “But right now, the nerves are the only thing keeping me awake.”

  He grinned. “Me, too, I’m afraid. If I start sounding like an idiot, just elbow me and I’ll be quiet.”

  She honored him with a laugh. “You have to promise to do the same for me. I’m so tired now I might say anything.”

  “Just speak from your heart and you’ll be fine.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “From what I’ve heard, several Council members have expressed interest in hearing your side of the story. And I don’t doubt the media will be eager to report your every word.”

  Isabelle made a face. “This is their chance to redeem themselves then. If the media can sway the public against Valli, I promise to be nice to them in the future.”

  “No more sound bites about the dying children of Third World nations? I’d be disappointed if you gave those up.”

  “I didn’t say I’d give them up—” her smile told him she was teasing “—only that I won’t be so snarky about it.”

  Levi laughed, the affection he felt for this tough, humble woman more than his weary heart could bear. Once her safety had been secured, he would have to stay away from her. It was that or risk acting on the feelings he felt for her, and there was no way he could do that to her after all she’d been through.

  Isabelle entered the Security Council chamber in the United Nations building with wide eyes. She’d seen pictures of the place before, but they hadn’t captured how vast and regal the room seemed or how tiny she felt staring up at the mural of a phoenix rising from the ashes. She knew the bird was meant to represent the world reborn after World War II, but she couldn’t help but hope it might symbolize her own country’s rise out of ruin.

  “‘I will gather you from the nations and bring you back from the countries where you have been scattered,’” she quoted the passage from Ezekiel under her breath.

  Levi leaned close. “‘I will give you back the land again.’” He gave her a meaningful look as they were seated, and though she knew the words were a promise from the Lord, she realized they were Levi’s promise, too. God had worked through Levi to keep her safe and was still working through him to return the nation of Lydia to the descendents of Lydia. She had much to thank him for.

  Soon the president, one of the fifteen members of the Council who, as Isabelle understood it, rotated through the role on a month-by-month schedule, opened the meeting with thanks to the other members for meeting on such a compressed timeline. Besides the fifteen members, the room was filled with aides, and Isabelle recognized the officials from Lydia who represented their tiny nation in the UN.

  Isabelle listened in fascination as the meeting began. As Levi predicted, the members were eager to hear her side of the story, including how she’d survived the initial attack.

  As Isabelle recounted the events, trying to keep everything in order as it had happened in spite of the blurring effect of the near-sleepless adventure, she found herself giving credit to Levi time and again. Well, it was really no surprise. He’d saved her life. Dramatically. Repeatedly. Appreciation welled in her heart as she spoke.

  When she reached the part in her story about reading Valli’s emails, murmuring spread through the crowd. She hadn’t bothered to include all the lengthy and confusing details of Sergio passing them the key and the password written on it. She’d been invited into Valli’s household. Did she need a warrant to procure the evidence she’d gathered? Not in Lydia, not given the circumstances. But would the Council interpret things that way?

  After she’d told her story, deliberations began in earnest. She kept hearing the phrases “act of aggression,” and “threat to peace.” The words gave her hope. From what Levi had explained to her, Isabelle understood that if the council agreed that the insurgents had committed an act of aggression that threatened the peace both in her nation and the surrounding nations, then they could be moved to intervene.

  As the representatives discussed her testimony, Isabelle got the impression that several of them were sympathetic toward her family after all that had happened. The next question surprised her.

  “Princess Isabelle, how do you wish us to proceed?”

  She felt her eyes widen, and her poor tired mind was so stuck in shock she couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment. When she glanced at Levi, he winked at her.

  That sent a charge through her system. “I would like Stephanos Valli removed from his position and investigated further. Also, Tyrone Spiteri.” She’d explained to them the emails, and the plot regarding the baby. State record would prove the previous assault charges, which he had finagled his way out of with minimum charges. “He should be investigated and held.”

  Heads nodded solemnly around the circle. “And what about the crown?”

  “I suppose that’s up to Parliament.” Isabelle felt emotion welling up, and she fought to keep her voice steady. “Could you please ask them to put off crowning anyone until they’ve made a thorough and diligent search for my father?”

  The president of the Council nodded solemnly. “We will break for lunch and discuss the details of carrying out your requests this afternoon.” His attention turned to Isabelle. “Your Majesty, from what I understand from your story, you have not had a chance to sleep in some time. Might I recommend you get some rest? We will try to have your world back on its way to being right by the time you awake.”

  The tears she’d tried so hard to suppress throughout her testimony now flowed in silent trails down her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  Isabelle awoke and glanced at the clock. Shortly after midnight. She could have rolled over and slept through till morning, but she was far too curious to learn what had happened since she’d returned to Sanctuary headquarters.

  Slipping on clothes from among the things Sanctuary had provided for her, she headed down the hallway to Levi’s office. As she might have expected, the halls were void of activity. Though there were surely people still working somewhere in the building, they were behind closed doors.

  The door to Levi’s office was open and a barrister lamp glowed at his desk. Isabelle rapped on the door and Levi’s head popped up from behind the dark computer screen.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized as he rubbed weariness from his eyes. “I didn’t see you sleeping there.”

  “I’m not supposed to be sleeping.” He stood and circled around the desk, gesturing for her to have a seat. He took a chair that sat at an angle to hers. “I was trying to take care of a few things, but sleep caught up to me.”

  “You need your rest.”

  “Not as badly as I need to keep you safe.”

  His voice creaked with care, and Isabelle felt his sincerity steal her breath. In spite of the tired lines that cradled his eyes and the stubble that had returned to his chin, the m
an was handsome. Isabelle realized she seen him in all manner of facial hair configurations. They were like an old married couple.

  The thought goaded her. She hadn’t come looking for him so she could dream about a future that wasn’t to be. She’d come to learn the future of her country.

  “What did the Council decide?”

  “The United Nations has asked Valli to voluntarily return to the United States for questioning. He’s on his way to New York now. They’ve issued an apology for his actions. Everyone is hoping that with Valli out of the picture, if your family members are in hiding somewhere, they’ll feel safe enough to make their survival public.”

  Relief coursed through her, tempered with a strong dose of reality. “I fear Valli may be just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “I don’t doubt you’re correct. We’ll need to you finish translating those emails at some point.”

  “I could work on that now.”

  “No. I need you to pack. We’re sending you to a safe house.”

  “A safe house? Are you coming with me?”

  “No. There are too many things for me to do here, and you’ll have a rotating team of guards. You don’t need me anymore.”

  Isabelle felt his words hit her like a slamming door. Samantha had warned her. Levi just needed one high-profile, successful mission under his belt. Then he could be president of Sanctuary after his father. He didn’t need her anymore.

  She felt her heart start to tear away from the safe spot it had nestled into. “When will I see you again?”

  “There is no further need for you to see me. Sanctuary will take care of your needs until the situation in Lydia has been resolved and it is safe for you to return there. The Council has already discussed the likelihood of providing a peacekeeping team if necessary.”

  Isabelle shook her head. The Council’s plans were wonderful—more than she’d hoped for, really—but one stark fact had stuck in her ribs and wouldn’t let go. “When can I tell you goodbye?”

  “Now.” His face had turned cold and he’d stopped meeting her eyes, instead glancing back at his desk as though eager to get back to work. “You can pack a bag. I’ll ring Samantha and she’ll escort you to the car. The guards have been assigned. We’ve all just been waiting for you to wake up.”

  Isabelle rose from her chair and waited for Levi to rise from his. At the very least she wanted to hug him. He didn’t move. His face was turned toward the work on his desk. “Levi?”

  “I have work to do.” He barely glanced her way and didn’t stand.

  Emotion caught in her throat, but Isabelle stifled her disappointment. She was a princess, after all. She wasn’t going to beg Levi to hug her goodbye. Her voice wavered only slightly. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget you.”

  His face was still pointed away from hers, but she saw his jaw twitch. Was he angry with her? Impatient? She had thought she’d learned to read him, but now she felt at a loss.

  He swept one hand down his weary face and nodded. “Goodbye.”

  So that was it then. She’d been dismissed. Isabelle knew too well how visits worked. It wasn’t her place to linger.

  “Goodbye.” She closed the door behind her as she left.

  THIRTEEN

  Levi fumbled with a pencil and snapped it in half.

  He couldn’t catch his breath. Pushing his chair back, he raised his arms over his head and stretched, trying to force wakefulness into his exhausted body, to ease the tight pain in his chest, to convince himself that their parting hadn’t been awkward.

  But who was he kidding? She’d been going to embrace him, and he couldn’t let her. He could hardly work up the voice to speak without betraying his emotions. If he’d gotten his arms around her again there would have been no letting go, not without confessing everything he felt.

  And where could they possibly go from there? Even if she returned his feelings, which by rights she shouldn’t, because they’d only just met and the world knew she could do far better than a workaholic, underpaid, nonprofit international lawyer—even if she felt something toward him, what could possibly come of it?

  She was a princess and likely soon to be queen. He lived half a world away, on the verge of finally inheriting the post he’d worked his whole life to fill. No, confessing how he felt would only make things worse.

  So why did he feel like scum for not telling her he loved her? There was nothing to be gained by it. Nothing but heartache.

  He turned from his desk and headed to bed.

  That’s what he’d do. He’d sleep it off. Maybe once he was fully rested he could convince himself he was making the right decision.

  Besides, he was going to need his sleep. Once Valli was brought in, Levi was going to be a part of the initial interrogation team. He needed to find out once and for all who had been behind the attacks on the royal family. And then he was going to do everything in his power to bring those parties to justice.

  Maybe he couldn’t tell Isabelle that he loved her, but at least he could keep her safe and give her back the throne of her people.

  It was raining. Water streamed in fat rivulets down the windows of the SUV from a gray sky. Dawn had broken some time before, but the clouds obscured the sun.

  Isabelle tried to tell herself she was glad. Her enemies were being brought to justice. She was headed somewhere safe—near Buffalo—where she could rest up and maybe form a plan for locating her missing family members. Her heart burned inside her as she thought about her brother and sister and their parents. She believed they had to be alive somewhere. That faith kept her going. For the first time in three days, things were starting to look up.

  Isabelle felt miserable.

  She would have liked to settle back and rest, but she’d been stuffed in the backseat between Samantha and a bodyguard, with two more beefy guards occupying the front bucket seats. She didn’t even feel as though she were free to cry, but the sky seemed to be doing enough of that for her.

  The thought tilted a small smile at the corner of her mouth, and she felt the peaceful hand of God holding her, crying for her when she was too drained to weep for herself.

  I will gather you from the nations and bring you back from the countries where you have been scattered, and I will give you back the land again.

  The ancient words soothed her soul. God was faithful. He kept his promises. Though the ambush had tested her faith, Isabelle felt secure in trusting that justice would win out in the end, even if the end was a long time coming.

  Through the swishing wiper blades Isabelle could see road signs splashing bright green ahead. She knew enough about the geography of upstate New York to understand their route. They’d take I-81 to Syracuse, then turn west on I-90. It would have been something like a seven hour drive, if it hadn’t been for the thick early-morning traffic. Samantha had already called back to Sanctuary to warn them they were running behind schedule.

  Isabelle read the signs. I-81 would continue north and connect with I-90 East. They’d hop on 690 to connect with I-90 West.

  The 690 exit slipped past.

  Isabelle watched it go. She wished she had a map or something. The driver wasn’t using GPS. She shifted uncomfortably. I-90 East loomed ahead of them.

  The wrong exit.

  The wrong way.

  The driver steered them into the lane for I-90 East.

  Isabelle cleared her throat. “Aren’t we supposed to be headed west?”

  “Just taking a little detour.” The driver didn’t take his eyes off the road.

  The guard beside her must have felt uncomfortable, too. “Levi said no detours. No stops until Buffalo, except to get gas, which we already did.”

  “I need to use the facilities.” The driver’s voice was harsh.

  The guard in the front passenger seat shook his head. “You should have gone when we bought gas. You knew the instructions. Besides, you should have taken 690 to I-90 West. It’s way back there.”

  Samanth
a cleared her throat. “Look, boys, there’s been a little change of plans. Trust your driver. He knows what he’s doing. Don’t you all want to stay safe?”

  “But the safe house is—” the front seat guard started to turn his head.

  “Don’t move,” Samantha barked.

  “Please don’t move,” Isabelle echoed, her eyes following the object in Samantha’s hand. “She’s got a gun.”

  “That’s right.” Samantha’s eyes glittered. “And I’m not afraid to use it. So we’re just going to take our little detour and you two are going to keep your mouths shut, or I’ll shut them for you.”

  Isabelle didn’t dare make eye contact with either of the two innocent guards. She didn’t even know their names, but if they tried to do anything to save her, they’d probably be shot.

  It hardly seemed fair.

  It wasn’t fair that Samantha had the only gun, either. The agent and the driver were apparently confederates, which left Isabelle with two guards who just might be on her side. Three against two. The odds were almost in her favor—if it hadn’t been for Samantha’s gun and the fact that the SUV was now headed in the wrong direction, to an unknown destination where Levi wouldn’t be able to find her. And there was no saying how outnumbered she’d be once they arrived.

  Levi was briefed by two men from the team who’d escorted Valli in.

  “He’s eager to cooperate. He’ll give us evidence against Spiteri if it means we’ll go easy on him.”

  It fit with what Levi knew of the man. Ruthless and spineless. A useful combination, at least for today. “What’s the status on Tyrone Spiteri?”

  The two exchanged glances. Levi got a bad feeling.

  “The United States doesn’t have any authority over him,” one of the men admitted slowly. “I think they’re watching him.”

  “Watching might not be entirely accurate,” the other corrected. “He’s—ah—”

  “Missing?” Levi filled in for them.

  They nodded, apology written across their faces. “But there’s a UN peacekeeping team on the ground working with the Lydian Parliament. I think they’re trying to locate him.”