Hunter grunted, knowing Grant couldn’t be denied. “You know I would.”
“Then it’s settled. Just make sure you’ve cut any threads that you may have left before you come.”
He didn’t hear any condemnation or accusation in his brother’s tone, but self-censure sawed in his belly just the same. “Right.”
“And, Hunter...” Grant paused. Sighed. “Check your truck before you go anywhere. You know, for...tracking devices or...” His brother sounded embarrassed, stressed, awkward.
A car bomb, Hunter finished mentally, knowing where his brother’s thoughts had gone. Tracy had been killed by an undetected car bomb. Hunter would never call his brother paranoid, given his history, but clearly Grant was self-conscious over his hypervigilance.
“I will. I promise,” he said, reassuring his big brother with an understanding tone.
His brother’s wife had been murdered, and Connor and his family were in hiding. Violence and dangerous men had already taken a toll on his family in recent months, and Hunter vowed not to let any more tragedy hurt the people he loved...whatever it took.
Chapter 11
“Uncle Hunter!”
As Brianna and Hunter unloaded Ben, his diaper bag and their suitcases, a blond-haired girl charged across the shady grass lawn of the old clapboard-and-brick house where Hunter’s brother lived.
Hunter’s brow beetled for a moment in consternation before brightening as he greeted his niece. He scooped the girl into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground as she kissed his cheek. “Hey, squirt. How ya doin’?”
“Grandma and Papa are taking us to Disney World!” the girl said, positively vibrating with enthusiasm.
“So I hear. That’s cool! You’re gonna have so much fun.” He kissed her head and set her back on the ground. “Peyton, this is my new friend, Brianna, and her son, Ben.”
“Hi, Peyton,” Brianna said and smiled.
The blonde girl peeked at her and gave a shy grin. “Hi.”
The slam of a screened door drew Brianna’s attention to the front porch, where a tall man with chocolate-brown hair strolled out, a baby in his arms.
“I thought you were sending Peyton to Mom and Dad’s.” Hunter’s tone reproached his brother.
“They’re on their way. A Disney trip doesn’t happen in an instant.” As Grant neared the car, Brianna saw the striking resemblance between Hunter and his older brother. Both men were breathtakingly handsome, though Grant had a few threads of gray at his temples and a few lines in his face that bore witness to the toll the months since his wife’s death had taken on him. “Mom’s making reservations and packing, and Dad is gonna pick the girls up after he settles some things at the office.” Grant shifted his attention to her. “You must be Brianna. Welcome. Mi casa es su casa.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your help more than I can say.” Brianna focused on the baby, who blinked at her with wide brown eyes. “Who is this doll?”
“My youngest, Kaylee. She’s ten months.” Grant wiped drool from the baby’s mouth with the corner of the girl’s bib, then kissed his daughter’s dark hair.
Brianna cut a worried look to Hunter, then back to Grant. “Your parents are taking a ten-month-old to Disney World?”
Grant smiled. “I know. I’d never attempt it by myself, but my mom is Superwoman. She’s looking forward to it.” He jerked his head toward the house. “Shall we? I’ve got the upstairs guest room ready for you.”
“Sure. Let me get Sorsha.” Hunter opened the back door of the extended cab and took out the cardboard pet carrier. Sorsha meowed unhappily, and the scrape of pawing sounded from the box.
Grant turned around, startled. “You have a cat?”
“We did mention it. Didn’t we?” Hunter asked.
“A cat?” Peyton hopped up and down with youthful exuberance. “Yeah!”
“It’s not for us, Squirt. It’s Miss Brianna’s cat.”
Brianna bit her bottom lip. “If it’s too much trouble—”
“I don’t mind. We’ll have to see what Cinderella and Sebastian say about it.”
Brianna sent Hunter a curious look, which he answered with an enigmatic grin.
As the group bustled inside Grant’s country house, Brianna caught a flash of brown fur scurrying from the staircase to the living room.
“That was Cinderella,” Hunter said, setting Sorsha’s carrier down and opening the top flaps. “She’s shy at first, but she’ll warm up to you in time.”
Sorsha poked her head up and sniffed the air. With a wary look around the foyer, she hopped out of the box and crept behind Grant’s umbrella stand to survey her new environment.
Ben whined tiredly, and Brianna patted his back. “Is there someplace I can go nurse?”
“Wherever you’re most comfortable.” Grant started up the steps. “I’ll show you your room, and you can decide what suits you best.”
She followed her host upstairs and was admiring the cozy room and handmade quilt on the queen-size bed when a loud yowl reached them from downstairs.
“Uh-oh.” Hunter led the charge back down to the foyer, where they found Sorsha bristled and glaring across the room at an orange-and-white tabby. The tabby, presumably Sebastian, flattened his ears and swished his tail. Peyton stood to the side, wide-eyed and watching the tense cats with trepidation.
Sorsha growled and hissed at the tabby.
“Sorsha, no!” Brianna fussed.
“It’s to be expected. Cats are notoriously territorial,” Grant said, his smile understanding.
Brianna nodded. “Sorry. I’ll take Sorsha upstairs. She can stay up there, away from your cats.”
“Let me. You have your arms full.” Before she could reach her cat, Hunter scooped the unhappy long-haired cat into his arms and started back to the guest room. Sorsha hissed again and thrashed her tail as Hunter toted her upstairs.
An hour later, the cats were all settled in separate parts of the house, Ben had been fed, and Hunter had unpacked much of what they’d brought into the closets and dresser of the guest room.
After putting Ben down to nap, Brianna followed the sound of voices to Grant’s kitchen, where Hunter, Grant, the senior Mansfields and a dark-haired young woman Brianna didn’t recognize were gathered around an oak table.
“Ah, there she is,” Hunter said when Brianna entered. “Bri, you’ve met my parents, but this—” he motioned to the young woman “—is Nancy Sawyer, Grant’s übernanny.”
Nancy rolled her eyes at Hunter, then stood to lean across the table to shake Brianna’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too. So what makes you über?”
“Hunter’s imagination,” she said drily.
Hunter raised his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, but anyone trained in martial arts and weapons for the purpose of protecting the families of high-ranking U.S. officials in dangerous parts of the world gets the über qualifier in my book.”
Brianna’s eyes widened. “Wow. With all that training, what are you doing in Lagniappe?”
“Why is she working for a nobody like me, you mean?” Grant said with a grin.
“I didn’t say that!” Brianna waved a finger at Grant.
Nancy laughed. “I was in Colombia until about six months ago. I followed my husband back to the States when he got a job with Bancroft Industries as their head of security.”
“Oh! Maybe you know him?” Julia Mansfield said, brightening. “You did say you are in the R and D department there, right, Brianna?”
“I did, but I don’t...um,” Brianna said awkwardly. “I—”
“Mom,” Hunter said under his breath.
Julia gasped and winced. “I’m sorry. I forgot...your amnesia.”
Stan grunted and pushed back his chair. “Come on, Julia. Ti
me to get on the road. Mickey Mouse awaits.” He glanced into the adjoining family room and called, “Hey! Anyone in there want to go to Disney World with me?”
Peyton gave a loud, happy squeal as she bounced into the kitchen and jumped into her grandfather’s arms. “Me! Me!”
Julia took Kaylee from Grant, and Grant saw his daughters off with the grands, leaving Hunter and Brianna in the kitchen with Nancy.
“After his wife was killed, Grant was understandably anxious about his girls’ safety,” Nancy explained. “Does he need a babysitter with a license to kill out here in the boonies? No. But if it makes him feel better about leaving his kids when he’s at work, where’s the harm? And I love his girls. They’re precious.”
“Even though Squirt and her sister are headed to Mouseville, Nancy has agreed to stay here with you and Ben while Grant and I handle a few problems at work.” Hunter pushed his chair back and rose. “You okay with that?”
“I... Sure.” Brianna gave Nancy an awkward grin.
“I won’t be gone long.” Hunter bent to kiss the top of her head and headed for the door.
A shiver of apprehension chased through Brianna. “Hunter?”
He stopped and turned, hand on the doorknob.
She swallowed, not sure why she’d called out to him, other than a gut-level impulse, the tickle of dread over being separated from him, even for a few hours.
Great, Brianna. You know you have to cut him loose in a few days, and you’re squeamish over him leaving for a few hours?
“Yeah?” he prompted when she only stared at him for several taut seconds.
“Uh...good luck with the Henderson site.”
He lifted a corner of his mouth. “Thanks.”
She turned to Nancy after the door closed and flashed her another awkward smile. “So...”
Nancy lifted a hand. “You don’t have to entertain me if there’s something you need to do.”
“I—” Brianna sat back in her chair and released a deep breath. She did have a list of things she’d been meaning to handle since the accident, but one disaster after another had made mere survival a priority. She needed to contact her insurance company about the car accident. And the fire. She cringed, knowing she’d get a fight from the insurance company in light of the clear evidence the fire had been arson. She prayed the police report would clear her of culpability. But her most pressing need was to research Meridan and the laws concerning succession to the throne. After that, she needed to make some tough choices about her next steps in putting her life back in order.
* * *
“Hello? Anybody home?” Hunter called as he entered Grant’s house that evening. It had taken most of the day to get the problems at the Henderson work site straightened out, and he’d worried about Brianna the whole time. Now, as he returned to his brother’s home, the kitchen and living room, typically buzzing with the activity of two young girls and their caregiver, were eerily silent. “Brianna?”
He heard the shuffle of feet, and Nancy appeared at the door to the hall. “Oh, hi. I didn’t hear you drive up.”
“Where’s Brianna?”
“Upstairs, I think. She’s been up there working on her laptop, taking care of Ben or napping most of the day. I just stayed out of her hair. Is Grant with you?” Nancy looked past him toward the door.
“No. But he said he’d be home in an hour or so.” Hunter’s gaze shifted to the stairs. He was eager to see Brianna and find out how she was doing. “Any trouble today? Anything suspicious?”
Nancy shook her head. “Nope.”
“Phone calls?”
“Just your mom calling to say their flight had arrived safely in Orlando.” Nancy hitched her head toward the staircase. “Go see for yourself. They’re safe and sound. I’ll start dinner. Fried chicken sound okay?”
Hunter’s stomach growled at the suggestion. “Sounds fantastic. I’m starved!”
“Alrighty, then.”
With that, he headed upstairs and knocked softly on the guest-room door.
Brianna answered, “Come in.”
“Hey,” he said, his smile already in place as he stepped into the room. “It’s me.”
Brianna had pillows propped behind her back, sitting on the bed with Ben nursing greedily. She greeted him with a smile that was pure sunshine and warmed him to his toes. “Hey, you. Did you get the problems with the Henderson project worked out?”
He could get used to coming home to that smile, her beautiful face. “Yeah. For now. Little crises seem to pop up every few days in my line of work. Nothing I can’t handle, but...” He dropped his gaze to her chest where Ben suckled, realizing she hadn’t covered herself. Not that she was especially exposed, given her modest nursing blouse and that Ben’s head hid her breast.
She followed the path of his gaze, and her cheeks pinkened. “Oops. Want to hand me the blanket over there?”
She pointed to the bassinet, but he ignored her request, moving instead to the edge of the bed. “Don’t cover up on my account. I can leave if you’re uncomfortable feeding him with me in here. I just wanted to check in.”
She blinked, ducked her head to gaze at her son for a moment, then raised a smile to him. “No, stay.” She patted the bed beside her. “Tell me about your day.”
He moved to lean against the headboard next to her, careful that he didn’t kick Sorsha, who was settled at the foot of the bed sleeping. As Hunter settled in, he reached over to stroke Ben’s tiny head. “Not much to tell. I made phone calls, talked to contractors, soothed irate customers. Yada yada. I want to hear about your day. Did Ben say his first word? Get accepted to Yale? Score a touchdown for his team?”
Brianna chuckled. “Oh, right. All of those things. And he has a lead on cold fusion for his science-fair project.”
Hunter grinned. “Attaboy!”
“He did get a good nap today, though. So I had a chance to do some research of my own.” Her attention remained fixed on her son, the loving pride in her eyes burrowing deep to his core.
“Yeah? What’d ya learn?”
“A little more about Meridan. The history, the culture, the economy.”
Intrigued, he angled his gaze toward her. “And?”
“Seems like it would be a nice place to live, the current political unrest aside.”
“Huh.” A squiggle of disquiet wormed through him at the thought of Brianna moving overseas. Without him. He gritted his back teeth and fought the swell of disappointment. Deal with it, man. That’s probably how this will end.
She cut a quick side glance to him before returning her focus to Ben and dabbing with Ben’s bib at the milk on his chin. “I found a little about their laws regarding royal succession. Ben is the legal heir to the throne whether Chris and I marry or not.”
Hunter’s gut tightened. He hated the possibility that Brianna would be forced to marry Chris, regardless of her feelings for His Hideness. A prick of jealousy stung him, along with a twist of regret. Clenching his back teeth tighter, he reminded himself this scenario was nothing new, no matter how he’d fooled himself into believing he and Brianna might have a future together. Political imperatives meant he had better come to grips with reality, or he’d get burned.
“An heir can abdicate the throne, but only after turning twenty-one, only given certain circumstances,” she continued, “and only if another suitable heir is available to take the throne.”
“What were the allowed circumstances?” he asked.
“Treason was the first cause, and in those cases, the Royal Senate imposes the abdication and the traitorous royal is put to death.”
Hunter grunted. “Next.”
“Marriage to a person deemed unworthy of the crown.”
“Unworthy? By whose judgment?”
“The Royal Senate’s.”
> “And who is in this Royal Senate?”
“Nine men who inherit their positions just like the royal family inherits their position.” When he shot her a look of disbelief, she sighed and nodded. “Members of the aristocracy. An antiquated tradition passed down from past centuries.”
“And the citizens of Meridan are okay with this?” He arched an eyebrow. “Or is that what the rebellion is about? An attempt to install a democratic government?”
“Nothing so noble. There wasn’t much on the internet about the coup attempt, but what I could find indicates the rebellion is more about control of natural resources and money. They’ve discovered a great deal of natural gas beneath the country, and the current law says the ruling family controls the natural resources and any wealth resulting from mining, drilling...or fracking. This was never a big deal before, because they didn’t have much in terms of commercially valuable resources. But with hundreds of millions of dollars at stake now, a group of citizens has risen up, demanding a rewrite of the law to gain control over the income from the natural-gas reserve.”
“And the monarchy has thwarted that movement,” Hunter guessed.
“Actually, the recently assassinated king, Chris’s father, was in favor of the change. Other powers in the government were fighting him on it.”
“The Royal Senate?” Hunter asked.
She touched a finger to her nose. “Bingo. They want to preserve the old ways and keep the wealth for the wealthy.”
“What a mess.”
“Aren’t most civil wars?”
“True.” He furrowed his brow. “But you said the ruling family would inherit the profits from the natural gas. So how does killing the king help change that? Now Chris inherits the throne...and the millions from the natural-gas reserves.” A chill skittered through him. “Who inherits the throne if Chris’s family is murdered?”
“I haven’t gotten that far. I couldn’t find anything this afternoon.” She scrunched her nose and rubbed her eyes. “Ugh. Can we change the subject? I’ve been thinking about Meridan and the country’s problems all afternoon, and it’s given me a headache. All I want to do is hold my son and savor these moments with him. What with the house fire and all the cloak-and-dagger of trying to hide Ben, I haven’t had nearly enough time to just sit still and enjoy this beautiful little boy.”
Protecting Her Royal Baby Page 14