“And you think he is?”
“It’s all too likely. Raptis is always interested in currying money. And Smithson has money.” She worried the beaded necklace triple draped around her neck. “Smithson has also been nothing but proper in all his dealings with us. You don’t have to tell me about the security check we’ve run on him. He was here at the New Year celebration. I would have noticed if he’d knocked over a bank since then.”
Dimitri nodded. “Exactly so.”
“Which means you’re going to have to protect Lauren personally, Dimitri. I mean that. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“What?” Dimitri frowned at her. “Your Maj—”
“Oh, dispense with the Majesty nonsense, I beg you. Jasen isn’t here, and I don’t have time for the formality. I’m worried about the girl, and I don’t do well with worry. It’s my least favorite occupation.”
“But I won’t be here long enough to protect her, at least not beyond the event Wednesday. Cyril has me slotted—”
“And I’m saying that the most important need of this family, at this exact moment, is to avoid a scandal of any sort. Not when we’ve catapulted onto the public stage with Kristos and Emmaline’s engagement. All eyes are on us, and on the king. It’s an unexpected boon, but it does not come without its headaches.”
Dimitri shook his head, disbelieving his own ears. “Your—Catherine, I’m a captain of the GNSF, not some kind of hired-out bodyguard.”
“You’ve protected every member of the royal family when the need dictated.”
“Correct. And Lauren Grant is not part of the royal family. She is a guest in a highly public location. We have people for that.” They turned sharply down another corridor, this one flanked by two attendants who bowed to the queen. She nodded back graciously, then swept forward, picking up her pace.
“We do have people for that,” she said, her words decisive. “And one of those people is you, who, if I am not mistaken, took an oath to be bound to serve whatever your monarch commands. Or did I miss a clause in that arrangement?”
Dimitri gritted his teeth. Queen Catherine had a way of making the most high-handed request seem like it was your sworn duty, and she was doing it again. “I will, of course, do whatever the Crown requests,” he said curtly as they turned into the conference room. Stefan Andris, Garronia’s top diplomat and cousin to the royal princes, stood at the head of the table, staring at a file folder, but he wasn’t alone. It was the first time in a long time Dimitri was actually glad to see the royal family’s chief advisor, Cyril Gerou. Maybe he could talk some reason into the queen.
Cyril’s face was neutral. Stefan’s was as well, but then Stefan defaulted to neutral. He glanced up when the queen entered the room, bowed perfunctorily, then held up the file. “You’re correct in your assumption, Your Majesty.”
“You could go with Aunt Catherine, you know,” the queen said, turning to accept a similar file folder from an attendant who’d appeared at their side. She scanned the document. “Oh my.”
“Yes.” Dimitri frowned at them both as Stefan kept talking. “Smithson has been invited to the event.”
A black bolt of anger surged up inside Dimitri, unexpected but brief. “Then, fair enough. Lauren doesn’t go to the party. Problem solved.”
“Not solved so neatly as that, regrettably,” Stefan said, unperturbed by the queen’s frown. “In addition to inviting Smithson, the ambitious Raptis has invited his good friends, Lauren’s parents. By happy coincidence, all three of them are apparently traveling on the Smithson yacht at this time, though there was no indication Raptis knew this when he extended the invitation. The lot of them are expected in port Wednesday morning.”
Dimitri’s scowled. “Your information is better than mine.”
“Not better,” Stefan corrected. “Merely more current. While you were on duty today, the inquiries we made into the whereabouts of the Grants yielded far more fruit than our initial research on Smithson. The Grants apparently are not nearly as diligent about their personal security as their host, or simply prefer to keep a more public presence.”
“So Lauren has to attend,” the queen said, tossing the file on the table. “Her parents will be there. We can’t very well keep her from her parents.”
“She could leave the country,” Dimitri put in, which earned him a thin smile from Stefan, and scowls from Cyril and the queen. “Look, I’m not in the middle of this. And I’m not equipped to play babysitter at a fancy dress party. That’s his job.” He poked his finger toward Stefan.
To his credit, Stefan didn’t deny it. “We could dress him up, but enough people know Dimitri as a captain of the GNSF. It would arouse suspicion to have him so close to Lauren.”
“You’re going,” the queen snapped before Dimitri could jump in. Cyril blinked, clearly startled at her royal vehemence, but she didn’t back down. “She trusts him.”
“She what?” Dimitri stared at her. “You can’t be serious.” He sent a longing look to Cyril, but the advisor looked as shocked as he felt. “I’m due—”
“We can make arrangements for that,” Cyril said, lifting his hand to quell words that Dimitri would not easily be able to take back. Catherine was his monarch, even when she was being ridiculous. The only one who could override her command was Jasen, and he wasn’t here to lend his voice. “Stefan will take the first line of defense for Ms. Grant, should she need any, and with any luck, she will not. Dimitri will be on hand to monitor the girl from a distance, but more importantly, to monitor Smithson.” He stared at Dimitri. “Somehow, that box got into the palace without going through any normal channels. It was not on the scheduled delivery manifest from the local couriers, and there was no record of it entering the country, let alone the palace. We were lucky, you could say, that it didn’t contain more than air.”
“No record? But the video feed showed a truck—”
“Unscheduled. The regular driver wasn’t anywhere near the palace when that truck entered the drive. And the man who was driving it isn’t showing up on any of our databases.”
“Hired help,” said Stefan dismissively. “One-time hire at that. The box would have tripped our sensors, except there was nothing to trip since it was empty. It exposes a low-tech weakness in our security if nothing else. Something we’ll need to address.”
“Right.” Dimitri’s head had started to pound. He’d have to pull it together around the blonde. Keep his focus on the mission and only the mission. “So, Wednesday night, then. How long will she be at the event?”
“Three hours, max. We won’t be alerting Raptis. You’ll be there as part of the detail for Kristos, in the background. The party will have dining, dancing, a speech, then return home.”
“I’ll tell Lauren. She’ll want to be prepared—” The queen turned to him unexpectedly. “Unless you’d rather speak with her, Dimitri?”
No chance in hell would that be a good idea. “Be my guest.”
He had his own battles to wage to make this assignment work. And none of them involved getting anywhere near Lauren Grant.
Chapter Six
“What do I need to know?” Stefan asked quietly.
Lauren looked across the limo to Garronia’s answer to James Bond, who was also her date for the evening. The other girls were following in a separate set of limos, but she’d been sent on ahead to be at the Raptis house before her parents arrived.
Her parents. God.
Stefan didn’t press her with another question and instead let her root through her response to the first one on her own. She hadn’t even been surprised when they’d come to her with the news of Smithson’s attendance at the ball. She’d known from the moment she’d seen that damned black-and-white box that he’d be making an appearance in Garronia sometime soon.
Her parents, though…That was a master stroke. One she should have anticipated.
“My parents won’t cause a scene, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she finally said. “Nor will Smithson. We
’re on good terms, as far as anyone knows. My father is eager to see me married off, and it would seem that Smithson has been designated the boy most likely.”
“Though he’s hardly a boy.”
“And he’s nowhere near likely.” Lauren nodded. “However, he does have the Midas touch. He’s made an extraordinary amount of money in a comparatively short time, and he’s a fast friend of the family.”
Stefan glanced at her. “He didn’t come from money?”
She shook her head. “He met my father when he was a college intern, and he was an orphan, didn’t know his parents, the whole up-from-nothing story. He worked his way through school on his own, learned society manners and negotiating skills as he needed them. He’s my father’s proudest achievement.” She grimaced. “Fortunately, he’s never officially offered to date me, so I’ve never officially turned him down.” She caught herself nervously spinning her bracelet. “I really don’t think my parents have any idea how dangerous Smithson is.”
“And how dangerous is he?”
Lauren colored. “This all sounds completely over-the-top. I’m sorry.”
“You’re genuinely worried. Explain why.”
“I—I’ve started to believe some of the things I’ve been told about him. That he’s a man who operates outside the law. That he’s done things you can’t find in dossiers or police reports. Things that get covered up.” She knew it wasn’t enough, and she swallowed, saying the words for the first time to anyone who wasn’t a trusted member of her staff. “That he’s made deals with crime syndicates all over the world. And that he’s successfully made those deals work, or he’s successfully screwed people who he’s realized don’t have the strength to screw him back. He’s laundered money, trafficked contraband. He’s got the Russian mob on speed dial. And the Chinese. And the Korean.”
“You said you’ve been told this? And you have proof to back it up?”
“Not even remotely. He’s the one who told me.” Stefan’s gaze sharpened on her, and she shook her head. “This is what he’s murmured to me in dinner conversation at my parents’ house over the past few years. The way you might tell someone about the new sport you’ve taken up or the latest diet you’ve tried. I’ve never heard a whisper of any of this outside those conversations, and I’ve been completely unable to verify any of it via a third party.” She glanced out the window, unseeing. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“So if he’s ever questioned…”
“He’ll know I’m the leak.” She shook her head. She couldn’t tell Stefan her real fears, her concern for what Henry would do to her family—her sister. He wouldn’t understand. “I can’t discount what he’s said, though. Henry has never lied to me. He hasn’t had to lie. But I can’t involve the authorities until I have proof. And I have…no…proof. The few whispers I do catch in the wind turn to smoke by the time I get to the source. I can’t risk moving until I have something real.”
“Understood.” Stefan studied her from his side of the limo. “Explain his attention to you personally.”
She sighed. “I wish I could. He has enough money to attract any woman, and yet he’s been fixated—in my mind alone, perhaps, but it’s my mind that’s in sway here—on me. Since I was barely more than a kid. At first, it was the whole doting-uncle thing, then it got weirder.”
“Sexual.”
“Ugh, no. Not that. Not exactly.” She wasn’t looking directly at Stefan, but she knew his face wouldn’t register any emotion at her words. Not relief, not revulsion, not curiosity. For all his suave good looks and powerfully built body, the royal cousin was the master of the non-expression. “More sort of a power thing. He liked keeping me guessing.”
“Hence the gifts in the black-and-white boxes. Some good, some bad.”
“Hence that, yeah.”
They rounded the corner and entered a large stone gate to a drive that snaked up the side of the mountain. The Raptis estate was outside the capital city, but the countryside had already devolved into the forested paradise she’d only recently begun discovering. “Is this the only way out of the estate?” she asked.
“The only way for public transit. The grounds have other access roads, of course. Those are being watched covertly. We expect no trouble there.”
“Good.” Another wave of shame drifted over her. “Look, this all comes down to me trying to avoid a guy I don’t want to date. I’m really sorry for putting you through this.”
“As I told you during your debrief with the queen, there are no apologies necessary for ensuring one’s safety.” He was right, he had said that, while the queen had been searching Lauren’s face for any sign of weakness, any crack in her armor. Lauren had shown none. From the time she’d been a young child, it had never been the actual bad news that rattled her, it was always the expectation that bad news was about to come around the corner. That was what made her nervous. Once the trouble started, she could handle it.
She hoped.
“In addition, your presence here presents a liability to the Crown, should anything happen to you while you’re a guest in our country. We take that very seriously, no one more so than Queen Catherine.” Stefan waited for her to nod. “Finally, the fact remains that this Smithson made a suspicious delivery that got all the way inside the palace without being flagged, and that’s not acceptable. If you hadn’t noticed it, what would he have done, assuming he’s the one who sent the package?”
“He’d have sent another. Something more noticeable.”
Stefan’s lips twisted. “You speak as if from experience. He’s done that before.”
“A time or two.”
“How far did he go to get noticed?”
She swallowed, remembering the college boy Adam. Sweet and clueless and heartbreakingly obvious in his adoration as she’d tried to push him away after Smithson had reared up again. Sweet and clueless and in traction in a hospital bed not three days later, with never a suspicion as to how he’d gotten there, other than some hit-and-run asshole who’d clipped his bike. She’d known, of course. The large bouquet of black-and-white roses had been a bit of a tip-off. “Pretty far. As soon as I acknowledge him, though, he goes away. Sometimes he wants to see me, sometimes he merely wants to know I’m aware of him, but he goes away after that. Or at least he has up to now.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I haven’t heard from him in maybe five months. Every time a few months go by, I think he’s forgotten me.”
“It would seem you are not all that forgettable. Here we are.” Stefan leaned forward and adjusted Lauren’s collar, where the tiny microphone lay embedded among the spray of crystals. “Raptis has woeful security, so he’s accepted ours with open arms. You won’t be scanned. Everyone else will be.”
They exited the car, and Lauren looked up the walk, shocked at the wave of relief that washed over her as she recognized a familiar face. Her voice shook a little as she spoke. “I thought you were my date tonight, not him.”
Stefan glanced forward, then slid a glance back to her. He gave her an uncharacteristic smile. “Dimitri is not your enemy, at least not tonight, Ms. Grant. And he’s almost as good in a fight as I am.”
“A fight?” Lauren blinked at him. “I can’t imagine you two getting in a fistfight.”
“Garronia is a small country, but we have big egos. Dimitri Korba possesses one of the biggest. Try not to stir up his pride.”
“I—” But Stefan turned from her to greet the owners of the home, Mr. and Mrs. Gaspar Raptis, whose house towered over them in multiple tiers of opulence. When Raptis realized that Lauren was the daughter of his “dear friends,” the Grants, his eyes practically lit up with avarice.
“Welcome!” he beamed, waving enthusiastically at the driveway. “Your parents, they are already here!”
“What?”
Stefan remained at her side, loose and easy, but Lauren felt as if she’d been turned to stone. She pivoted in a careful three-pointed step, smiled a p
erfect three-quarter smile, and tilted her head precisely eleven degrees as she registered the three people striding across the wide white drive, as if they’d emerged from a stroll through some garden idyll.
Three, not two.
She forced herself to focus. Her parents looked as they ever did, her mother blond and exact, her father equally blond but far more expansive, his formerly excruciatingly fit body only now going to seed as the years, fine food, and expensive alcohol caught up with him. They both smiled at her with reasonable cheer, but then they would. She’d done a good job being the perfect daughter. They could have no complaints on that score.
Smithson’s, however, was the harder gaze to meet. He was the smartest man she’d ever met, and she’d realized eventually that he had a sort of sixth sense about her. He knew her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities. He could, at the beginning, actually seem to read her thoughts.
She’d gotten very good at helping to convince him of what she was thinking since then, helping him believe what she needed him to believe. And so at this moment, she knew better than to act too coy. He wanted to be coddled and appreciated, yes. But he didn’t want to be discounted. He’d meant to scare her with his little box trick. He had. He’d want to know that.
She stepped forward and hugged her parents—her mother delicately, her father more robustly, ever the doting daughter, ever the proud progeny. Then she turned to Henry Smithson and swiftly raised her hand to strike him.
As she expected, he caught her before she could complete the blow.
“Lauren!”
As the older blonde’s sharp cry echoed through the courtyard, Dimitri didn’t know what surprised him more. The flourishing smack the American had communicated that she had every chance of landing, or that she’d let the man opposite her catch her in time. As Dimitri discreetly radioed the arrival of Smithson to his men in the field, he watched the man neatly fold Lauren’s hand over his and kiss her knuckles, smiling broadly as he lifted his head.
Captured (Gowns & Crowns #2) Page 6