Protecting the Princess

by Carla Cassidy

  She opened the bag and withdrew the velvet pouch inside. Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the pouch and withdrew the jeweled crown. It wasn’t a large crown, but it held an array of flawless rubies, emeralds and diamonds.

  Placing it on the top of her head, she leaned back against the pillows on the bed. She was Princess Anna Johansson of Niflheim and she wasn’t about to let some arrogant cowboy bodyguard boss her around.

  She pulled the crown from her head, once again filled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness. She hoped her father came for her soon and she could get back to her life of friends and parties and pleasures, a lifestyle that had always managed to keep that aching loneliness at bay.

  Chapter 3

  Tanner sat at the kitchen table reading through the information he’d printed off the Internet the night before. He’d worked long past midnight, searching obscure sites and trying to find whatever he could about Niflheim and the social unrest that had plagued the country.

  He’d discovered that John Swenson, the leader of the left faction, had control of the palace but did not have control of the countryside and nobody seemed willing to guess who would eventually win total control.

  He also tried to find out where King Bjorn was now, but he was unsuccessful. It was as if the king had dropped off the face of the earth following the shooting at LAX.

  It was now just after ten. Breakfast had come and gone hours ago and still Anna hadn’t put in an appearance. Not that he was surprised. She was probably accustomed to sleeping late, breakfasting in bed, personal servants and social assistants.

  While she slept the day away, he’d been busy. He’d gone to his own place and packed a bag, then had moved into the room next to hers. For the duration of her stay here, he’d be here, as well. He’d also arranged for four trusted ranch hands to work eight-hour shifts as guards on the house, then be replaced by new, fresh men.

  The rest of the morning he’d spent on the computer printing off anything and everything he’d missed the night before that pertained to the small Scandinavian Island of Niflheim and the shoot-out at LAX.

  It would have been nice if Anna had been able to answer more of his questions the night before. But, he supposed it had been too much to expect that the jet-setting princess would have any clue about what might have been going on in her own country. It was hard to be in touch with the people’s needs when you were partying until dawn and shopping until you dropped.

  “You want anything before I head to the laundry room?” Smokey asked from behind Tanner.

  “No thanks, I’m fine,” he replied.

  “You suppose that woman will ever make it to a meal on time?”

  Tanner turned in his chair and grinned at Smokey. “Who knows what that woman is going to do?”

  “She’s a pretty little thing even if she isn’t worth a hill of beans,” Smokey replied as he washed a coffee cup in the sink, then placed it in the dish drainer to dry.

  “Is this where I come to be served breakfast?” Anna appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  Smokey snorted. “I cook breakfast once a day, serve it at dawn. If you snooze, you lose. I ain’t going to start changing my ways just because there’s a princess in the house.” With another snort, Smokey disappeared out the back door.

  “My goodness, this house is full of disagreeable men,” she said as she came into the kitchen and sat on the chair across from Tanner.

  Tanner bit back the sharp reply that leaped to his tongue. He didn’t want to start the day with a battle. “Smokey really isn’t so disagreeable. I told you before, we have a routine in the house, a routine that was initially set up the year my mother died and Smokey wound up as cook and housekeeper. With six kids there had to be routines and rules. One of the cardinal rules of the house is if you aren’t at the table when a meal is served, then you don’t eat.”

  “All right, so breakfast is at dawn. What time is dawn?”

  He eyed her narrowly, unsure if she was being sarcastic or not. She appeared to be quite serious. “Around six. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  She nodded and he got up from the table and went to a nearby cabinet to retrieve a mug. “If you want breakfast, I could probably rustle you up something,” he offered grudgingly.

  “Heavens, no. I wouldn’t want to put anyone out. Coffee is fine.”

  “I guess you slept well,” he said.

  “Like a log. I hadn’t slept much since the scene at the airport. I just got a few catnaps on the bus ride here. I was really exhausted. How old were you when your mother died?”

  He blinked at the quick change in topic, then hesitated, unsure why she felt compelled to know this personal history of his. “Ten,” he finally answered, realizing it might build some trust between them. “Cream or sugar?”

  “No, black is fine.”

  He set the cup in front of her, then returned to his chair. “I was twelve when I lost my mother,” she said. “I think it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  She took a sip of the coffee, eyeing him over the rim of the cup. “She had breast cancer and it wasn’t caught soon enough. She went far too quickly. What about your mother? How did she die?”

  “She was murdered.”

  Anna gasped and placed a hand on his forearm. “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, her blue eyes radiating a compassion that surprised him. “That must have been horrible for you…for all of you.”

  Her hand felt dainty and warm on his bare skin. He moved his arm from beneath her hand, finding her touch far too appealing. “It was a long time ago,” he said.

  He picked up one of the pieces of paper in front of him and pretended to study it as she drank her coffee and stared out the window as if lost in her own thoughts.

  She’d surprised him with that burst of sympathy that seemed at odds with the woman she’d shown herself to be in the short time he’d known her.

  He stared at the paper and thought about his mother. It had been twenty-five years ago that his mother had been murdered on her way home from town. Twenty-five years ago and still Tanner felt the rip in his heart.

  The night that her body had been found sprawled next to her car had been the only time Tanner had ever seen his father weep. That night had changed Tanner’s life forever.

  “The mist,” Anna said suddenly, looking at him as if she’d surprised herself.

  “Pardon me?”

  She frowned and stared down into her coffee mug. “In Scandinavian mythology before Creation there were two places. Muspellsheim—”

  “The land of fire,” he said. Her gaze shot back at him and surprise once again lit her eyes. She was probably shocked that a stupid cowpoke would know such a thing. In truth yesterday he wouldn’t have known about the myth, but his reading that morning had enlightened him.

  “That’s right. Muspellsheim was the land of fire and Niflheim was the land of ice and mist.”

  “Is there a reason for you mentioning this?” he asked, wondering where she was going. “Or is it that you just think I need a mythology lesson?”

  “Yes…I mean no. The radical group—they call themselves something of the mist. Warriors of the Mist or Men of the Mist, or something like that. It just popped into my head.” She looked inordinately pleased with herself.

  “Good,” Tanner said. “Maybe with that much information I can find out more about them. I already tried to find what I could on John Swenson, who apparently leads the rebels. But I couldn’t find any information on him or his group.”

  “Did you find out anything about my father? Where he is now? If he’s all right?”

  He shook his head, wishing he had news for her. “Nothing. We can only assume that he’s been taken into some sort of protective custody and will contact us when he can.

  “Betrayed? What do you mean?” She wrapped her slender fingers around the coffee mug as if she needed to hang on to something concrete to hear what he had to say.

  “There’s no way assassins could have
been waiting for you at the airport without knowing specifically what flight you and your father were on. They’d have to have known the time of your arrival and where you’d exit the airport, to lie in wait for you.”

  Her eyes grew wider with each word he spoke. “I hadn’t thought about that,” she said in a low, troubled voice.

  “Who knew your flight information besides you and your father?”

  “I don’t know.” She took a sip of the coffee, that charming frown back between her brows. “I don’t know how the arrangements were made.”

  How could a twenty-five-year-old woman be so clueless, so uninformed about the forces that were driving her life? He couldn’t imagine not being in control of his own destiny.

  She raised her chin. “I can’t imagine that anyone would betray us. I can’t imagine anyone who was close enough to us could be capable of doing something like that.”

  “There’s no other explanation for those men to have been at the airport at the right time, at the right exit.”

  He sighed and raked a hand through his hair impatiently. “Okay, then I’ll see what I can dig up on this group of the mist or whatever.”

  “While you’re doing that, I have some things to take care of myself.”

  Tanner eyed her warily. “Like what?”

  “Hopefully there is a car that will be at my disposal while I’m here. If not, I can call a car service.”

  A car service in Cotter Creek? She’d have as much luck looking for an ocean in Oklahoma. The princess had no idea how normal people lived, he thought.

  “One way or another I simply must go into town,” she continued. “As you can see, I’m wearing the same clothes I’ve worn since my arrival in Los Angeles. I definitely need to do some shopping and I thought perhaps I’d get lunch while I was out.”

  Any modicum of amusement at her ignorance of a small town disappeared as he stared at her, for a moment at a complete loss for words.

  “Are you insane?” he finally managed to exclaim.

  She sat back in the chair, obviously offended. “Of course I’m not insane.”

  “Well, you aren’t going anywhere.” He stood. The abrupt motion sent his chair skittering backward along the wooden floor. “Especially not alone. What do you think this is? Some sort of vacation?”

  She stood, as well, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “Of course not, but I think you’re forgetting something, Mr. West. I’m your client, not your prisoner, and you can’t stop me from going wherever I want.” There was an edge of haughtiness in her voice coupled with more than a measure of stubborn resolve.

  She turned to leave the room, but in three long strides he caught her by the arm, whirled her around and pulled her up against him.

  “Listen, lady, I’ve worked my ass off for the last fifteen years to give this company the reputation of one that doesn’t make mistakes. I’m not about to let you be my first mistake. If you’re my client, then start acting like it instead of acting like a spoiled brat.”

  She gasped and her face paled. “Let go of me. How dare you speak to me that way.” Her voice trembled and he released her, fully expecting her to run and lock herself in her room or some other such dramatic nonsense. He half expected her to yell, “Off with his head!”

  Instead she straightened her shoulders and stood her ground. “I need some clothes and some personal items. If you don’t want me to go to town by myself, then you take me or you send somebody to get the things I need.” Her voice was deceptively calm.

  The burst of anger that had exploded between them had astonished Tanner and he took a moment to intake a deep breath and steady himself.

  The small overnight bag she’d brought with her hadn’t been big enough to carry more than a few personal toiletry items. He reluctantly had to admit that she probably needed some clothes, especially if she was going to be on the ranch for any length of time. His sister Meredith’s clothes wouldn’t work, as Meredith was considerably taller that Anna.

  “Be ready in fifteen minutes and I’ll drive you into town to get what you need,” he said against his better judgment. At least if he took her, he could control where she went and who got next to her.

  “I’ll be ready.” She turned and started to leave the kitchen, but paused and turned back to face him. “And don’t think for one minute you’re going to throw me over your shoulder.” She whirled around once again and stomped off in the direction of her bedroom.

  Tanner stared after her, wondering what in the hell that meant. He took another deep breath and sank into a chair at the kitchen table once again. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had so riled him. And that anger had ignited so quickly.

  What was it about her that had managed to push him over the edge of control? Tanner rarely lost his temper, but in the space of a few minutes she’d managed to make him lose all control.

  Maybe it was the fact that she’d slept so late, or that she’d entered the kitchen apparently expecting somebody to serve her breakfast. Maybe it was the highfalutin tone in her voice.

  It wasn’t just the anger that had exploded so fast between them that had surprised him. He’d been shocked by the instantaneous streak of desire that had gripped him as he’d yanked her up tight against him.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, even though he’d been irritated with her, he’d registered the soft press of her breasts against his chest. His mind had heeded her scent, that provocative spicy fragrance that had been in his head since the moment she’d first walked into his office.

  He didn’t particularly like her. He certainly saw nothing in her to respect or admire. But apparently that didn’t matter to his body, for it had responded to her nearness with an intensity that had shocked him.

  On some base perverse level he wanted her. And that was absolutely unacceptable. One of the worst things he could do as a bodyguard was get personally involved with a client.

  Part of the problem was that Tanner couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so attracted to a woman. For the last couple of years his work had consumed him. When this assignment was over, maybe he’d take a little time to attend to his personal life.

  In the meantime, if what Anna believed was correct, then her father should show up here any day, any minute, for that matter, and that was just fine with Tanner.

  The sooner he got rid of her, the better.

  Anna stood in the bedroom, heart pounding in an unsteady rhythm. Tanner West was the most arrogant, aggravating and bossy man she’d ever met.

  She grabbed her hairbrush from the dresser and dragged it through her hair, her thoughts still focused on Tanner and the scene they’d just had.

  With a single glance of those wicked green eyes of his he could manage to make her feel stupid. And she wasn’t stupid. Still, it wasn’t the spat they’d just had that had shaken her.

  What made her feel slightly unsteady, a little bit breathless, was that moment when he’d yanked her up against him and that stern mouth of his had been mere inches from hers. She’d had an overwhelming impulse to kiss him, to see if those lips of his were softer than they looked. She’d wanted his eyes to flame with something other than cold disdain.

  That impulse to kiss him irritated her more than his bossiness, more than the fact that he could make her feel stupid.

  “Ouch,” she muttered as she pulled her hair. She set the brush down and applied a touch of pink lipstick, dabbed some powder on her nose.

  She had a feeling Tanner West was a man who was accustomed to people jumping when he spoke. Well, she didn’t jump for any man, especially not a dusty cowboy.

  She refused to allow Tanner to ruin her day with his ill temper. She was looking forward to going into town, eager to buy some clothing and burn the ones she’d been wearing for too long. At least the little trip would be something to do, a way to pass a couple of hours.

  Aware that Tanner had said to be ready in fifteen minutes and that he was a man who obviously worshiped the clock, she left her room and w
ent in search of him. She found him in the kitchen talking to his father.

  “Good morning, Anna.” Red offered her a warm smile. How did such a nice man get a son like Tanner? she wondered.

  “Good morning, Mr. West,” she replied.

  “Please, I told you yesterday at dinner to call me Red.”

  “Then Red it is.” She smiled at him. He was really quite nice. He was easy to see where Tanner got his height and broad shoulders for his father has the same attributes. Unlike Tanner, Red’s eyes were blue, but the shape of their faces was the same, with the strength of a firm jaw and chiseled features.

  “You might want to keep an eye on the sky,” Red said. “The weatherman is calling for some strong storms moving in sometime this afternoon.”

  “Then we’d better get started,” Tanner said, his voice brusque.

  “We’ll see you later, Red,” she said, then hurried to follow Tanner’s long strides as he walked toward the door.

  Minutes later she was back in the dusty black pickup with Tanner behind the wheel. “Do you have bad storms here?” she asked once they were on their way.

  “Sometimes.”

  “I’ve never liked storms,” she said more to herself than to him. It had been storming the night her mother had died. She remembered that night as if it had happened yesterday. The storm had raged at the windows while inside her mother had finally given up her fight with the illness that had tormented her. Since that night rainstorms had always brought with them a sense of dread and loss for Anna.

  “Before we get into town I want to go over the rules with you,” he said.

  She shoved her painful thoughts away and raised an eyebrow. “There are rules for going into town?”

  He cast her a quick glance beneath the rim of his hat. “There are rules for everything you do while you’re under my protection.”

  She released an audible sigh. “I’m not accustomed to rules.”