Moving from sunlight to the dimness of the main cabin, he needed a moment for his eyes to adjust. Before he could see clearly who or what was in the room, he heard a harsh gasp, and a man rasped, “Brianna!”
She jerked her head up, squinting across the cabin in the direction the voice had come. A man Hunter recognized from the cell-phone video as Chris stood in a small kitchenette, his gaze fixed on Brianna.
Despite their grave circumstances, relief and joy flooded her face at the sight of Ben’s father. She tugged free of Olaf’s grasp and raced across the room. Throwing her arms around the prince’s neck, she clung to him as happy tears filled her eyes. “Chris! Oh, thank God you’re all right!”
Brianna’s affection for Chris was unmistakable and clearly ran deep. Had seeing Chris again, touching him, brought back memories of their relationship, memories of the love they’d shared?
Hunter’s stomach swooped. He’d known Bri and Chris had made a baby together, which spoke to the strength and depth of Brianna’s feelings toward him. But seeing them together, knowing that when all was said and done she might go back to Ben’s father and pick up where they’d left off...hurt. Jealousy bit hard, and he gritted his back teeth to stanch the green monster.
Chris bent his head to Bri’s, laying his cheek against her temple, then burying his face in her hair.
Hunter looked away, scanning the rest of the cabin as his eyes adjusted to the low light. A bald, beefy guard stood with arms crossed in a corner of the cabin, his shrewd eyes assessing the new arrivals. Adding the man who’d let down the ladder for them, Hunter now counted six henchmen with Senator Viktor to his, Brianna and Chris’s three. Olaf, Soul Patch, Baldy, the driver, Spider and Axel. Damn. Not good. Especially since he’d wager every one of the hulking men had a weapon, even if he hadn’t drawn it yet.
“Oh, Brianna, you shouldn’t have come,” Chris murmured softly, yet loud enough for Hunter to make out his words. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.”
She tipped her head back, her face paling with fresh apprehension, and for the first time, Hunter realized Chris hadn’t returned her embrace.
“Chris, what—” she started, stepping back and holding him at arm’s length.
With the rattle of chains, he showed her that his arms were shackled behind him, and he was chained to a large hasp bolted to the wall.
“Oh, my God! Chris!” she cried.
The man guarding Chris grabbed her from behind and hauled her back.
Hunter seethed at the repeated manhandling of Brianna but swallowed his fury, seeing the value of biding his time and waiting for the right time to make his move.
Olaf stood at the door of the cabin, and Axel moved up behind Hunter to poke a gun in his back.
As Viktor brushed past Hunter and took a seat in the cabin, Brianna cut a sharp glare to her captor. “This is how you treat your king? You said he was unharmed!”
Viktor lifted a palm. Calm. Unconcerned.
“I assure you my cousin is not hurt. For now.”
Brianna jerked her back straighter, and Hunter’s skin prickled.
“Your cousin?” she repeated.
The senator’s face was smug. “Oh, did I not mention that earlier? Yes, Prince Cristoff... No, I’m sorry, Your Majesty...” He gave a mocking bow toward Chris. “King Cristoff is my cousin. A distant cousin, yes, but I am his closest male relative in the Hamill bloodline.” He paused, arching one menacing eyebrow. “Which means if he dies—and any of his heirs with him—I am next in line for the throne of Meridan.”
She whipped her gaze back to Chris. “Is this true?”
Chris’s face hardened, and he jerked a tight nod. “It is. I only learned this myself in the last few weeks, when I threatened to abdicate my claim on the throne. Just before my father was murdered, and I fled the country to find you, warn you.”
“As the next in line to rule, I was more than happy to let you resign and be with your American lover. But of course your father had to be dealt with first.”
“So you’re behind the coup attempt,” Chris said, his tone bitter, and his eyes narrowed in rage on the man who had betrayed him. “Are you the one who murdered my father?”
“Your father was trying to change too much, trying to please the people rather than keeping the monarchy strong.”
Chris shook his head. “He was trying to help the people. He was trying to do what was right for the citizens!” His jaw tightened. “Don’t pretend this is about anything but your own greed. You want the profits from the natural-gas reserves for yourself.”
Victor strode closer to Chris and shoved his nose in his prisoner’s face. “They belong to the monarchy. But your father was going to give away millions of dollars in valuable natural-resource rights. Millions of dollars that belong to the ruling family, to my family! He might not care about that money, but I do. The profits from mining the natural-gas reserves will be mine. The current laws will be preserved, and I will return Meridan to its former glory.”
“The people want a voice. The citizens should share in the proceeds of resources mined from their land!” Chris returned, his face reddening with anger.
Viktor opened his mouth as if to argue, but closed it again, his expression modulating. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back from Chris and divided a glance between Brianna and Hunter. “Secure them.”
The senator’s minions rushed forward to do his bidding, and Hunter’s pulse jumped. Each of his arms was seized, Soul Patch and Axel flanking him. He struggled against their imprisoning grasp, seeing his chances of escape diminishing quickly. At least if his hands were free, he had a shot at overtaking one of the thugs and fighting his way off the yacht with Brianna.
A shackle was snapped on his wrist, and he battled to keep his other hand free. He head-butted Soul Patch and threw his full body weight against Axel, knocking his opponent off balance.
Across the room, he heard Brianna cry, “No, don’t! That’s... Ow!”
He jerked his gaze toward her, found her twisting and fighting with Olaf as he yanked a plastic zip tie around her wrists so tightly it cut into her skin. “Brianna!”
He surged forward, trying to reach her, only to be jerked back by the chain already clamped on his left wrist. Undeterred, Hunter swung a leg up and caught Soul Patch in the kidney. The man doubled over but kept a tight grip on the chain clamped to Hunter’s wrist. Shifting his weight, Hunter kicked out again. Soul Patch blocked the strike, but Hunter managed to graze the man’s hip and send Soul Patch stumbling back a step. Seeing Axel assume a fighting stance, Hunter braced his feet, ready to take on the thug.
He never got the chance. Baldy snaked an arm around Hunter’s neck from behind and jerked him back, adding his brute strength to subdue Hunter. The air in his lungs whooshed out as he was slammed to the floor. Baldy wrenched Hunter’s arm to an awkward angle and pain shot through his shoulder. The math Hunter had calculated earlier proved insurmountable. He was outnumbered, outmuscled.
“Hunter!” Brianna cried as Baldy and Axel dragged Hunter toward the built-in cabinets that were part of the yacht’s interior wall.
He continued to flail against his captors’ grips, kicking out at their shins, their knees, anywhere he could strike, unwilling to simply give up. As he struggled, he felt something hard in Axel’s jacket pocket poke his side. While he thrashed and fought the men who held his arms, he slipped his fingers into Axel’s pocket and snagged the keys they’d taken from him on the dock earlier. He’d have preferred his pocketknife, but he’d take any tool he could get. The army had sharpened his fighting skills and taught him resourcefulness. He curled his hand around the keys and kept his fist low and out of sight.
He continued to kick, drawing the men’s attention away from his hands.
“Bind his feet,” Baldy ordered, and Soul Patch quickly secured a zip tie arou
nd his feet and a second plastic tie from his bound feet to the handle on a low cabinet drawer. With two men holding Hunter, Soul Patch snapped the other end of the short chain to Hunter’s free wrist. He felt like a trussed pig waiting to be roasted. Frustration roiled in his gut along with a gnawing sense of having failed Brianna. He’d promised to keep her safe, but if he didn’t think of something fast, they would both die. He squeezed his fist tighter and felt the bite of metal against his palm. A set of keys wasn’t much, but at least he had a shred of hope.
* * *
The plastic strips binding Brianna’s wrists were so tight she was losing feeling in her hands. But her hands were of secondary concern to the rough way the senator’s henchmen had treated Hunter. She was sick to her stomach with guilt over getting him embroiled in this nightmare. He sat on the floor with his feet bound, his face bloodied and swelling, and his hands chained behind his back. But the expression on his face was pure defiance, and the fire in his eyes said he wasn’t done fighting.
“Is this brutality really necessary?” Chris said darkly. “I don’t even know this man.” He jerked his head toward Hunter. “Release him and Brianna. Your fight is with me!”
Senator Viktor heaved a sigh, as if the circumstances pained him. “Yes, Your Highness. I would much prefer doing this a different way, but you left me no choice. You were supposed to abdicate the throne.”
Chris’s face hardened. “That was my plan....”
Brianna gasped. So it was true. Chris had hoped to marry her, even if it meant giving up his claim to the throne. Her head spun, and she raised a stunned gaze to Chris.
His eyes softened as he met her glance. “I love you, Brianna. I wanted to be with you. Even before I found out about—”
She gave her head a small, sharp shake and warned him with her eyes not to give anything about Ben away.
Thankfully, Chris realized his near slip and schooled his face. “Before I found out about my father’s murder.”
Her pulse pounded in her ears. How could he say he loved her when he’d left her without any explanation last winter? She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of so many strangers, but the answers she craved taunted her.
“Did I know this? Had I said yes?”
Chris’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “What?”
She licked her lips and cut a quick glance to Senator Viktor, who followed the conversation with a smug grin.
“I was in an accident, and my memories of us are...gone. Most of them anyway.”
Chris’s face fell, and he shook his head. “But...you’re here. You looked for me.”
“And aren’t I lucky she did?” Viktor gloated.
Chris tore his gaze from her and shot a glare at Viktor. “The point is moot because you murdered my father! I’m the king now. I will serve my country and lead them through this crisis.” His eyes narrowed on the senator, and he growled, “I will not abandon my people, my duty, my heritage.”
* * *
On a cursory level, Hunter followed the back-and-forth between Chris and his political rival, but his attention was fixed on the henchmen. He couldn’t risk having one of the senator’s thugs see what he was doing and sound an alarm. While attention was focused on the argument between Chris and Viktor, Hunter had shifted to a position that allowed him to saw on the plastic zip ties with his keys. He had to go slowly to keep the keys and his shackles from jingling, and the minute progress he was making frustrated him. But one millimeter at a time, he cut the plastic tie....
Chapter 17
Brianna tensed when Viktor pushed out of his chair and strolled toward Chris. “So Prince Cristoff has gained a conscience, a loyalty to his country and his inherited duty to the throne. How noble. But as you say, the point is moot. Because you’re going to die today.”
Chris stiffened, his head held high and his glare full of spite. “You’ll be hanged for treason, Viktor. Make no mistake.”
“Oh, not I. I’ll take the throne. Because the American authorities will call your death the result of a lovers’ spat. This is why we brought Mr. Mansfield along rather than dispose of him earlier. You see, Mr. Mansfield has military experience, including explosives.”
In her peripheral vision, Brianna noticed Hunter jerk his head up. She glanced at him, and the shock and dread on his face bore out the truth of what the senator was saying. Nausea swirled in her gut. What did Hunter suspect?
“The American police will find our new king and his girlfriend were victims of a jealous man with deadly skills,” Viktor continued, but Brianna kept her focus on Hunter. He’d changed position, now kneeling with his back to the wall. When the senator turned to stalk toward Chris, Hunter’s arms moved slightly behind his back. Brianna’s pulse leaped. Had he found a way to get loose from his handcuffs?
The henchmen all watched Senator Viktor’s grandstanding and Chris’s reaction to Viktor’s threats, but if any of the guards glanced in Hunter’s direction, Hunter’s slight movement stilled.
He was working on escape! She was sure of it. Her breath caught in her lungs. She had to keep the senator and his thugs distracted, buy Hunter time to act.
“What are you threatening? Hunter’s not my boyfriend. He has no part of this!”
“Oh, but he does now. The three of you will die in a terrible boating tragedy. A revenge killing,” Viktor said and waved a hand toward his head henchman. “Olaf, you may set the timer. Gale, Thom, prepare the boat.” He hitched his head toward the door, and the man with the soul patch and the thug with the spider tattoo headed out.
Olaf walk to the small galley adjoining the main cabin and opened a cabinet. Inside, a small digital clock and a block that looked like grayish clay sat in the shadowed recesses, attached to an elaborate tangle of wires.
A chill curled through Brianna’s blood as she remembered action movies where a similar gray block was referred to as C-4, a powerful explosive.
Mr. Mansfield has military experience, including explosives. Her heart sank, heavy and full of fear and regret. Not only did the senator plan to blow them up, he planned to frame Hunter for the crime. As if assassination wasn’t enough, the hateful man intended to ruin Hunter’s good name in the process. Indignation raged in her on Hunter’s behalf.
Olaf flipped a switch, and the timer on the bomb started counting down from fifteen minutes. Enough time for Viktor and his men to get away. But was it enough time for her, Hunter and Chris to free themselves from the shackles and get off the boat?
Chris paled as he watched Olaf step back from the bomb, then lunged for Viktor, only to be brought up short by his chains. “You won’t get away with this. I have allies back home who will see to that! The Hamill family line will not be removed from power!”
Brianna shot a discreet glance toward Hunter. Was his escape plan working? How much more time did he need?
* * *
Relief curled through Hunter when the zip tie around his feet finally broke. Gritting his back teeth, he began working the chain binding his wrists over his heels, down his soles. Inch by inch he worked his hands around his feet to his front....
* * *
“Ah, yes.” Viktor faced Brianna, and she yanked her focus back to the senator. “We heard the rumors that your mysterious American lover was pregnant, that our new king could have a bastard heir. And our job of securing the throne for me became a bit more complicated. But once we found Ms. Coleman, we had no trouble guessing where she’d hidden your heir. When we finish here, my men will return to Louisiana and take care of your son, eliminating any threat that he’ll try to steal the throne from me.”
Horror punched Brianna’s gut. “No! Leave my baby alone! No one but us knows that he is Cristoff’s son. Let him live. Please, let him grow up. No one else needs to ever know who his father is or about his claim to the throne.”
“I wish I could oblige, Miss Coleman. I’m not happy about killing a little baby. But when you and Cristoff disappear together, there will be questions. It will be investigated. Someone could test your baby’s DNA, and I can’t leave any loose ends.”
“There’s a special place in hell for people like you,” Chris snarled.
Tears stung Brianna’s eyes. She prayed that Grant would keep Ben safe. If only they could warn Grant about Viktor’s men...
And when she thought of Ben losing both his parents, her heart wrenched. She knew the pain of losing both a mother and father. Biting her bottom lip, her pulse racing, she glanced at the bomb timer. The counter was down to 13:46.
Viktor followed the direction of her glance and pulled a crooked grin. “You’re right. Time’s wasting. Men...” He flicked a hand toward the door, and without a backward glance, Viktor headed for the deck...past Hunter.
Springing to his feet, Hunter threw his chained hands over Viktor’s head and pulled the chain tight against the man’s throat.
Olaf drew his weapon and aimed at Hunter, but with lightning-quick reflexes, Chris swung a leg up. He kicked the gun from Olaf’s hand, and the weapon skittered across the floor, stopping a few feet from where Brianna was chained. Seeing her opportunity, she lay down on the floor and stretched her bound hands as far as she could, but the pistol still lay inches from her fingers. She clenched her teeth, growling her frustration.
The bald thug retrieved Olaf’s pistol, then hurried to lend his muscle to Axel, who fought to free Viktor from Hunter’s choke hold. The bald man cracked his elbow against Hunter’s head, and Brianna gasped in horror. But though Hunter’s knees wobbled and his face contorted in pain, his grip kept the chain taut across Viktor’s throat.
A grunt called her attention across the room as Olaf whirled toward Chris and swung his arm in an upward arc. Olaf’s hand caught Chris under the jaw and sent him stumbling backward. When he recovered, Chris ducked his head and lunged at Olaf. Though hampered by his shackles, Chris managed to catch Olaf low in the gut and knocked his opponent back.
Protecting Her Royal Baby Page 21