Royal Wedding Threat

by Rachelle Mccalla

  THREE

  Jason watched the images on the security screens as Oliver replayed the relevant moments. As he’d feared, Ava’s car had been parked on the edge of the security camera’s range, with only the rear bumper in view. The vehicle she’d watched drive away moments after the explosion had been far beyond that. They didn’t get so much as a shadow.

  “That’s it?” Ava asked impatiently from where she stood near his elbow. “You haven’t got a single image of any of it?”

  “You parked beyond the range of our cameras,” Jason explained, trying to keep the frustration he felt from entering his voice. The woman could be difficult to deal with on a good day. She was already upset enough.

  “I normally park closer, but that was the nearest spot when I arrived this morning.”

  Convinced the screens had nothing more to show him, Jason turned to face the wedding planner. Her tone might have been icy, but her eyes were round with fear.

  As well they should be. Among the many questions that vied for his attention, the foremost was whether the woman had been specifically targeted, or if her car had been randomly chosen for its position near the palace, but beyond the range of his cameras. Until he could answer with confidence that she had no more to fear than anyone else, he needed to take steps to keep her safe.

  “Stay here and review the footage,” he told her. “I have some phone calls to make.”

  Jason strode to his office, thinking quickly. There were apartments built into the rear wall of the palace grounds. Once used to house servants of the royal family, they continued to provide lodging for long-term guests and staff, even some of his guards. If he could secure a vacancy, the wedding planner could stay inside the safety of the palace walls, under the watchful eyes of his guards.

  “Where are you going?” Ava’s demanding tone carried down the hall after him.

  Jason mustered up his patience as he called back to her, “To my office to make some phone calls.”

  “So you’re just leaving me? That’s it? I don’t have a car anymore. What am I supposed—”

  He raised a hand to shush her. “The phone calls are for your benefit. I’m trying to find you a place to stay.”

  “It was my car that blew up, not my apartment.”

  “You don’t need a car.” Jason reached his office and hurried inside, wishing he could close the door and keep her out.

  “Yes, I do! I have a business to run.” She stomped into the office after him. “I’ve got a wedding in eight days and another in less than four months. I have work to do.”

  “The guards can drive you.”

  “Guards? I don’t want—”

  “I don’t care what you want. It’s for your safety. I’m going to find you a place to stay near the guards.”

  “I don’t want to stay near your guards! They want to throw me in the river like a sack of kittens.” A note of despair carried through her bossy tone.

  “No, that was me, as I recall.” Jason hoped his admission might deflate her anger. For a moment, as he glanced at her to gauge the effect of his words, he thought he caught a glimmer of gratitude in her eyes—as though she understood the effort he’d put into his gracious words and appreciated the gesture.

  But in an instant, cold fury snapped into her eyes again. “You wish I’d made it to my car before the bomb went off, don’t you?”

  Jason glared at her, wondering if he’d imagined the gratitude in her eyes. Why would she be so mean to him if she understood he was trying to assuage her concerns? He’d wondered before, while arguing with her, if she wasn’t actually trying to pick a fight with him, to egg him on instead of making peace.

  But why would she do that?

  Really, for all he’d done for her that morning, bandaging her cuts and dropping everything else on his morning schedule, she ought to have shown him a little appreciation. “I wish the bomb hadn’t gone off at all. I wish there’d been no bomb. But since there was, and since you were the recipient, intended or not, we’ve got to put you under guard.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  “Someone may be trying to kill you. That car that pulled away may have been the bomber, waiting to see if his efforts worked. If so, he knows you’re still alive. Given the risks he’s taken so far, there’s no reason to think he isn’t going to try again.”

  Ava blinked at him. “I don’t have time for this. I have work to do.”

  “So do I. The longer I argue with you, the further I fall behind. Let me make some phone calls and we’ll see what we can do to keep you safe until we sort this out.”

  Theresa Covington, the palace household manager, answered his phone call. He inquired about an available room among the palace-wall apartments and was relieved that Theresa was able to reserve an apartment for Ava. “Thank you, Theresa. Have a lovely day.” He closed the call with the household manager and smiled at Ava.

  She scowled at him. “What?”

  “I’ll drive you to your apartment so you can pack a bag.”

  “I’m not staying among your guards.”

  “You’ll have your own apartment. There are guards also staying in the palace-wall apartments. Theresa told me you stayed in one when you first arrived in Lydia, before you found your own place.” Jason stepped past her down the hall, poking his head into the switchboard room to tell Oliver where he was going.

  Ava followed him, still frowning. “I don’t appreciate this loss of my freedom. I have an important job to do.”

  In spite of her protests, she followed him to the royal garages.

  Jason chose a bulletproof vehicle. Only the new limousines, ordered since the insurgent ambush the previous summer, had armor plating, and he couldn’t justify driving the wedding planner in a limo. The bulletproof sedan should be more than adequate for a quick trip to Ava’s apartment.

  Fortunately Ava’s place wasn’t far from the palace complex, and the drive passed in silence. Jason would have fumed at the woman’s rudeness, except that he’d seen that glimmer of fear in her eyes, that wounded little girl who’d peeked out when she thought no one was looking, and he began to wonder if she wasn’t picking fights with him on purpose. Perhaps her anger was a ruse to distract him from something deeper. But what?

  Jason parked in front of Ava’s building, just across the street from her door. “Wait for me to walk you in,” he told her as he put the car in Park and turned off the engine.

  But to his chagrin, the woman ignored him, stepping out as he pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the driver’s side door. Ava quickly rounded the front of the vehicle and glanced up and down the empty street before darting across toward her door.

  Jason saw it all in a single glance—Ava’s unsteady, injured trot across the two empty traffic lanes; the charcoal-gray Volkswagen Jetta that pulled out from the curb just over a block away the moment Ava turned her attention from looking both ways to walking; and the squeal of tires that betrayed the VW’s sudden acceleration.

  Jason leaped into action, shouting at Ava to hurry as he ran toward her. She was already in progress crossing the street. The car approached in the same lane he’d been driving in, on the side of the street opposite her apartment. If she hurried, she’d be out of the way in time.

  But even as Jason bounded toward her, he glimpsed the car swerving toward them, into the other lane. Ava was hobbling far too slowly in her three-inch heels. She’d never make it.

  With only half a second to act, Jason scooped an arm around Ava’s waist and leaped with her toward the curb. He had her nearly to the sidewalk when the Jetta, oblivious of the curb or the neat little flower patch in front of Ava’s apartment, swerved onto the sidewalk, knocking his legs out from under him and sending his back smashing into the windshield and side mirror.

  It was a glancing blow, but the force was enough
to send them both airborne for several feet. Jason tightened his arms around Ava, tucking her head into the relative safety of his chest as they hit the sidewalk and rolled.

  He looked for the car, fearful the vehicle might swing around and take a second pass. The two of them were high up on the sidewalk now, nearly against the steps of Ava’s building, but the curb hadn’t stopped the car before, and if it decided to pin them to the concrete steps, not even his embrace would shield the wedding planner from injury.

  To his relief, he saw the Jetta disappear over the rim of the hill, speeding away. Unfortunately, given the distance, he couldn’t make out the plate number.

  Jason turned his attention to Ava next. “Are you okay?” He had her still tucked tight against him, but pulled back just far enough so he could see her face.

  One red-nailed hand clutched his shirt. She blinked up at him. “What was that?”

  Even more disheveled than after her last brush with death, the wedding planner didn’t look at all her usual prickly, put-together self. Jason felt his heart twist with sympathy. “That,” he groaned as he rolled onto his back in preparation for sitting up, “is proof that whoever bombed your car this morning is targeting you specifically.”

  * * *

  Ava pinched her eyes shut and held tight to Captain Selini’s shirt. She didn’t like the man—couldn’t stand him most days—but right now she’d have gladly buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed.

  The captain spoke rapidly into his earpiece, instructing his dispatcher to send men in a car. But his words came in shallow gasps and his face turned deep red as he struggled to breathe.

  “Are you okay?” Ava asked in a whisper, scrutinizing his features as she awaited his response. Had the car simply knocked the wind from his lungs, or was he seriously injured?

  Her conscience stabbed her. If she’d waited to cross the street with him as he’d said, would they still have been hit? The car had struck him directly and thrown him hard against the cement. What if he died because she hadn’t listened?

  It occurred to Ava as she stared at his face that the captain wasn’t as old as she’d assumed him to be, in spite of the early gray that flecked his hair. For all the times she’d argued with him, she’d never bothered to look at him closely—part of her personal policy against getting close to any person in any way. But now as she watched him from inches away, she realized he was hardly any older than she was.

  Jason Selini groaned as he sucked in a breath.

  Ava rolled onto her side, out of his way as he struggled to sit up. “Can I help you?” she asked, extending one hand, realizing only when she saw that her hands were empty that she’d left the plans for Princess Anastasia’s wedding in the car. Suddenly the plans didn’t seem so important. The captain appeared to be in real pain.

  “Is your back broken?”

  Jason winced. “I’m wearing body armor.” He strained to breathe. “That took the bulk of the blow, probably saved us both, but my steel plate is dented now.” Captain Selini grasped the steps as he pulled himself to standing. “Let’s get off this street.”

  Suddenly fearful that the dark car might return, Ava hurried to her door and let them into the small shared foyer, then led the way to her apartment door, unlocking it carefully.

  “Wait.” Jason’s hand covered hers. “They know where you live. They were waiting for us.” He ran his hands around the door frame. Ava assumed he was checking for trip wires or a triggering device of some nature.

  Fear pounded from Ava’s heart to her ears in one beat. “They’d have to come through the front door to get to this one. They’re both locked.”

  “Open it slowly.” The captain relented, straining to breathe, his face frightfully red.

  Wishing she could hurry and help the captain before he passed out, Ava nonetheless did as instructed, watching and waiting, ready to spring away if the captain gave any sort of signal at all.

  But nothing happened. Her apartment looked the same way it always did—blank white walls, minimal decor, honey-oak wooden floor gleaming in the midday sunlight.

  Captain Selini clutched his chest as he stepped inside, talking into his earpiece, between gasping breaths reporting on what had happened.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Ava closed the door behind him, then peered up into his face as he bent over, his face more purple than red.

  “My armor.” The captain twisted to one side, grimaced and turned back again, panting. “It’s cutting into my diaphragm.”

  “Do you need to take it off?”

  “Can you help me?”

  Ava wasn’t sure what to do, but she figured the captain must be in terrible pain to ask her to help him. Quickly, she unbuttoned the front of his uniform. Purple-faced and fumbling, he explained to her the straps and fasteners, and she pulled him free of the steel-plated body armor.

  He straightened immediately, his white T-shirt moving against his well-muscled back and shoulders as he pulled in a real breath for the first time since the car had struck, and flexed his brawny arms backward, testing his range of motion slowly.

  For a moment, all Ava could do was stare. She’d always assumed the captain, like all the other guards, was strong. They had physical-fitness requirements for their job, no doubt, so of course they worked out. But she wasn’t at all aware of how very physically fit the captain was until he threw his beefy arms up over his head and flexed his muscles, pulling in a deep breath as he assured himself of his full mobility.

  Ava’s mouth went dry and she watched him in silence. No, he wasn’t as old as she’d assumed. The man appeared to be youthful and fit and actually almost attractive, now that she paid attention. Of course, he had that permanent frown line between his eyebrows that made him seem older. But other than the ever-present scowl on his face, Captain Selini was...handsome.

  Rather than gawk, Ava returned to the tiny kitchenette that adjoined her open living space. “Can I get you something to drink, or an ice pack? What can I do?”

  “Get packed before that guy returns.”

  “Was he a guy?” Ava asked as she stepped from the kitchenette to the bedroom to gather her things.

  “I don’t know. The glare of sunlight on the windshield made it difficult for me to see him, but I thought the driver looked male. Did you get a look at him?”

  “I barely saw the car at all,” Ava confessed. She pulled out her duffel bag, then stared at her open closet and tried to think. How long was she planning to be gone? What should she pack? And what if the man who’d tried twice now to kill her showed up again? Perhaps she ought to choose more practical footwear. She only had eight days until Prince Alexander’s wedding. The adventures of the morning had already disrupted her schedule.

  She gulped a breath, trying to clear her head, to focus on what she needed to pack and not think any more about what it had felt like to be in Captain Selini’s arms. He had such very nice arms. And his manly scent was alluring, as well. That was another thing for her not to think about.

  “What can I do to help?”

  Ava spun around to find the captain standing in her doorway, looking very uncaptain-like in his T-shirt. Instead he looked like any normal person, but with extra-strong arms that had wrapped around her and saved her from the car. The terror she’d felt in that moment tore through her again, and she shuddered to think how close they’d both come to horrific injury, or worse. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I never said I was.”

  “Can I get you an ice pack, then?”

  “You can get packed so we can get out.” The captain stepped into the small room, making it feel that much tinier with his wide shoulders occupying so much of the space.

  “How long do I need to pack for?”

  “A couple days should be fine. We can send a team back later to get the rest
. Just grab the necessities, or I’ll do it for you. We need to get you to safety as soon as possible. I need to figure out what’s going on.”

  Rather than let the captain make good on his threat to select her wardrobe choices for her, Ava tossed clothes into the bag. “What do you think is going on?” she asked as she darted toward her bathroom for everything else she’d need.

  “Somebody’s trying to kill you.” The captain’s tone was so grim Ava couldn’t help looking up as she stepped past him, then froze as his gray eyes locked on hers.

  “Kill me?” she repeated. On some level, she’d realized as much already, but hearing him speak the words so bluntly made it all seem real in a way she wasn’t ready to deal with yet.

  “Given the two attempts so close together, I’d say they’re in a hurry about it.”

  Ava felt her arms go limp as her duffel bag sagged toward the floor. Why would someone want to kill her? What was she supposed to do? Would they strike again at any moment? Overwhelmed, Ava hung her head.

  “Hey.” Captain Selini’s hand fell gently on her shoulder, a tiny gesture of comfort in the midst of the cold fear that gripped her. His strong hand sent an unwelcome tingle of awareness through her. Normally she’d have shaken him off, but his touch imparted comfort. And she desperately needed comfort, no matter how much she resented that fact.

  She looked up into his face, still surprised to see how handsome he looked at close range, when he wasn’t yelling at her, when she actually looked at him long enough to see past the silver flecks, which she realized now were probably brought on by the stress of his job or possibly as a result of arguing so many times with her. If it hadn’t been for her personal policy never to get close to anyone, she might have given in to the impulse to lean toward him, to bury her face against his strong shoulder and sob.

  But instead of inviting her to lean against him and cry, the captain gave her a tiny shake. “Get going. We need to leave in two minutes. Pull yourself together.”