by Valerie Parv
Molly looked unimpressed. “Want to see the queen.”
Ben gave Meagan a wry look. “Obviously the navy doesn’t rate with a three-year-old. I hope she isn’t too disappointed that Aunt Josephine doesn’t wear a fairy-tale dress and crown.”
Meagan felt uncertainty sweep through her. He may have proposed marriage to her, a commoner, but his aunt was still the Queen of Edenbourg. “I’m not dressed to meet the queen,” she said, taking refuge in the most basic of female concerns.
“My aunt will be more interested in what we have to tell her than in how we look.”
She might not share her brother’s extreme views, but Meagan agreed with Shane that an accident of birth shouldn’t decide an individual’s worth any more than the make and model of their car or their mode of dress. Fortified by this thought, she straightened her spine as she marched beside Ben along the passageway. Without him, she would have been lost in minutes. He guided them unerringly until he opened a door into a beautifully furnished salon.
After making another phone call, Ben told her that Queen Josephine was meeting with Edward Stanbury who had taken on the king’s responsibilities as soon as Nicholas had disappeared. Edward would continue in that capacity until the emergency was over.
To Ben it seemed strange to have his uncle’s brother wearing the crown of Edenbourg. A little suspicious, too, since the entire drama had begun with Edward’s return to the country with his American-born sons, Luke and Jake.
By saving Nicholas from the first kidnapping attempt, Jake had more or less exonerated himself. And unless Nicholas had somehow set up the attempt to make himself appear innocent, he was off the hook, too. But there was no certainty in any of it, and Ben felt frustrated by the lack of progress.
As soon as his aunt received word that Ben was back, she hurried to join them. In her fifties, the queen was reed-slender, her posture enviably upright. She had thick brown hair coiled into a chignon, and piercing green eyes. Although Ben knew she must be burning with impatience for news of her husband, she greeted Meagan and Molly cordially, and Ben warmly.
“King Michael is still alive,” he said, knowing this was what she most wanted to hear.
Josephine inclined her head, only betraying by the momentary closing of her eyes, the relief that must be sweeping through her. “Is Michael well?” she asked Ben.
“I’m told he has suffered a slight stroke,” he said, hearing her indrawn breath that, from anyone else, would have been a cry of dismay. “He’s in the care of a doctor and is expected to recover. That’s all I was able to learn,” he concluded.
The queen’s gaze went to Ben’s fading bruises. “From the look of you, the price of what you did learn was quite high enough.”
“It’s nothing,” he said dismissively. In truth he felt tired to the bone, but it had been worth it to bring some slight measure of relief for his aunt’s suffering.
The queen frowned. “All the same, you should see the palace doctor.”
“I told him the same thing on the way here, ma’am,” Meagan contributed, frustrated that Ben wouldn’t listen even to the queen. Ben’s rough treatment while captured might have done more damage than he realized.
It hadn’t prevented him from kissing her, she read in the look he gave her. At the thought, desire swamped her, hot and dizzying, forcing her to tear her gaze away from his face before she betrayed herself to the queen, or worse, to Ben himself.
She was afraid that the queen saw it anyway, and the corners of her mouth lifted. “Ben is not known for taking advice,” she pointed out. “Perhaps you’ll have better fortune with him.”
“I wouldn’t presume to try,” Meagan said. Perversely she felt cheated that Ben hadn’t introduced her to the queen as his fiancée, although she understood that he probably felt it was the wrong time. Would there ever be a right time? Maybe he was regretting having asked her to marry him.
Ben made a restless movement. “If you ladies have finished discussing me…”
Josephine’s face betrayed traces of amusement. “Darling Ben, we haven’t even begun.” She leaned toward Meagan. “We shall continue this discussion at high tea this afternoon.”
“What’s high tea?” Molly chimed in. She had been remarkably good, too distracted by a bow-fronted cabinet filled with crystal animals to say much, Meagan decided.
“It’s when one drinks tea and eats a full meal, and then delicious sweets,” the queen explained. “Children usually have milk instead of tea.”
Molly nodded. “I like milk and cake. But no ’cumber sandwiches.”
“Then you shan’t be made to eat them.”
Molly regarded Josephine with suspicion. “If you’re the queen, where’s your crown?”
“Molly!”
Josephine comforted Meagan with a look, then smiled at the little girl. “It’s kept in a special glass case, and only taken out on state occasions.”
Meagan could feel her daughter burning to ask more questions, but squeezed her hand warningly. “Enough, Molly. The queen is very busy.”
“Not too busy to see her favorite nephew, especially when he has risked so much for our sake,” Josephine said with a fond look at Ben. “I’ll send word to the doctor to expect you shortly.” She pressed a discreet switch near her hand and a footman appeared within seconds. The queen gave instructions for Meagan and Molly to be given rooms near the apartment reserved for Ben when he was at the castle.
Meagan felt a surge of panic at the prospect of being separated from Ben in such a daunting environment, but he touched her hand in reassurance. The fleeting contact was enough to ignite flames of longing inside her. This would have to stop, she told herself sternly. She couldn’t keep depending on him. She had stood on her own two feet since her late teens, and could go right on doing it.
“Thank you for your hospitality, ma’am, but might it not be better if Molly and I returned to my home?” she suggested.
Josephine glanced at Ben. Meagan didn’t miss the decisive shake of his head. She felt like throttling him.
“Your home is where Ben was imprisoned?” the queen asked.
“Yes, but…”
“Then there is danger for you and your child if you return. I prefer that you remain here.”
Ben had said the same thing. Meagan knew when she was outnumbered. She inclined her head in acquiescence. “Then we’ll be glad to stay, ma’am, thank you.”
“I’ll see you again at tea,” Ben told Meagan before she was escorted out.
“A charming woman with a sensible head on her shoulders. Pretty head at that,” Josephine told him when they were alone. “She obviously has your well-being at heart.”
“You may as well know, I’ve asked her to marry me,” Ben admitted.
The queen gave him a surprised look. “You must care about her a great deal.”
“She tended to me while I was a captive, and helped me to escape at considerable risk to herself.”
“Those are hardly reasons for marriage.”
“They’re my reasons.” His tone told her that he didn’t want to discuss it further.
The corners of the queen’s mouth twitched. “Then you have our blessing. And our deepest gratitude for what you risked for our sake.”
“For all the good I did. We still don’t know where King Michael is being held.”
“But we know he is alive. For now, it must suffice. Now, off to the doctor with you.”
Princess Isabel was in the salon when Ben arrived for high tea. She brought a message that the queen wouldn’t join them after all. She had retired to her apartment, making Ben wonder if the shock of hearing about the king’s stroke was catching up. He made a mental note to check with her lady-in-waiting later.
“Mother told me what happened to you. What did the doctor say?” Isabel demanded.
Ben helped himself to tea from a silver pot, adding two sugars and earning a disapproving tut-tut from his athletically inclined cousin. He defiantly added another, needing the energ
y boost. What with bruised ribs and rope burns on his wrists, he had known better days. “I’ll live,” he said shortly.
Isabel inspected him as if he was one of her prize horses. “I’ll bet the other guy looks a lot worse.”
Ben nodded. “They were unconscious when we left.”
“We?”
Quickly he filled her in on Shane Moore’s role in the kidnapping and Meagan’s bravery.
Her eyes were full of questions, none of which he felt inclined to answer.
“Your Meagan sounds like quite a woman,” she said.
“She isn’t my Meagan. She’s a grown woman with a three-year-old child.”
“Who makes my dear cousin protest far too much.”
“You’re as bad as Aunt Josephine,” he grumbled. “Surely you all have more pressing things to worry about than my love life.”
He regretted his outburst when he saw a shadow cross Isabel’s lovely features. “You’re right, we do. When I heard you were back, I asked Adam Sinclair to join us. As the head of the security detail, he ought to hear what you and your…what you and Meagan have learned.”
Ben nodded, more than willing to share any scrap of information with the other naval officer whom he both liked and respected. He was happy to leave the matchmaking to his aunt, but couldn’t help thinking what an interesting couple Adam and his cousin made. The only two who didn’t seem to realize it were Isabel and Adam themselves.
It was Meagan’s fault that his thoughts kept heading in such dangerous directions, Ben decided. Over the last couple of years he had given far more attention to his work than to his romantic life. This was the first time in many moons that he had found himself thinking of love, and usually at the same time as he thought of Meagan. He still wasn’t sure why he had proposed marriage to her. Telling himself it was for her protection didn’t quite satisfy him as an explanation. Adam Sinclair’s people could watch over her as well as Ben could. So what was going on here?
As if to prove his point, Meagan appeared at the salon door, hesitating on the threshold when she saw Princess Isabel with Ben. Was it the sight of his much-photographed royal cousin, or himself that brought Meagan up short? Ben wondered. She was having much the same effect on him, he found.
She had obviously allowed someone from the staff to provide her with a change of clothes. The effect was extraordinary, especially on his blood pressure. He felt it notching a few points higher as he looked at her.
She had looked pretty fantastic in the simple T-shirts she’d bought after they fled from her house. Now, in a softly draped teal-colored tunic and black leggings that fitted her shapely legs very nicely, she looked good enough to eat. She had done something to her hair, too. He had only seen it falling in a tumble of curls to her shoulders. Not that he had any complaints, but he liked this new style, fluffed out and caught behind her ears with a couple of combs. There seemed to be twice as much of it, and the curls practically invited a man to run his fingers through them.
“Come in, you must be Meagan,” Isabel said warmly. “It seems that Ben has temporarily lost the power of speech. He was telling me how brave and selfless you are. And this must be Molly. Go and choose a cake for yourself,” she urged the little girl.
Molly didn’t need a second invitation. She skipped across the room to where dozens of small cakes, pastries and sandwiches were displayed on tiered silver servers. Choosing would take her some time, Meagan knew from experience. Molly was given such treats so rarely that she liked to savor them.
“I hope Ben didn’t make me sound too heroic,” Meagan insisted. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Isabel’s forest-green eyes glinted. “Oh, he made your role perfectly clear.”
When she didn’t elaborate, Ben stepped forward. “Would you like some tea?”
Meagan hesitated. “This feels strange, given that the king is still a captive.”
“Aunt Josephine wants life in the kingdom to go on as normally as possible,” he said quietly, understanding Meagan’s hesitation. He had taken some persuading himself before agreeing to participate in a ritual that seemed trivial, given what the king was going through. But as a military man, he also understood the value of routine when life was far from normal.
He fetched Meagan a cup of Earl Grey tea. “Isabel and I were planning our next move.” He didn’t add that his love life had also been under discussion. No sense in giving Meagan the wrong idea. No sense telling Isabel that he and Meagan were engaged to be married, either. He could imagine what his cousin would make of that. She would find out when he was ready to make a public announcement, not before.
“The head of the security detail on the case is joining us shortly,” Isabel added. “He’ll want to talk to your brother.”
Remembering her last sight of him slumped on the floor, Meagan shuddered. “Shane won’t cooperate.”
Ben saw her reaction. “You don’t have to be involved anymore. The security people can handle things from here.”
She shook her head. “I want to be. I know Shane better than anyone.”
Ben would have vetoed the idea on the spot, aware of more than ordinary protectiveness influencing him. Meagan wasn’t putting her life on the line if he could prevent it. He knew his attitude was out of date. Even in his own line of work, women handled just about every job. But he didn’t care about them as much as he did Meagan. She had helped to save his life, he rationalized, not sure if it was the only reason for his feelings.
Isabel sensed his resistance, and stepped between them. “Meagan’s right,” she insisted. “It’s her house. She has a right to be involved.”
Ben’s angry glance flashed to his cousin. Why did every woman in his life want to be superwoman? “Shouldn’t you let Adam and his team handle this?”
“I won’t be treated like a child, Ben,” Meagan said quietly and he heard the undercurrent of steel in her tone. “The queen has assigned a security guard to us and a nanny to Molly. She’ll be safe here while I go with you. There’s no way I intend to be left behind.”
Anger knifed through him and something else. Desire such as he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He didn’t want to feel either, but around Meagan, he didn’t seem to have much choice. “Very well. But if you insist on going along, you’ll follow my orders, understood?”
Chapter Ten
“You don’t have to do this, Meagan. It’s not too late to change your mind and wait outside while Adam and I go in,” Ben told her.
“Adam and Isabel and I,” came a resentful prompt from the back seat.
Along with Jake Stanbury, who had counted himself into the operation the moment he heard about it, and Adam’s hand-picked security detail, they sat in a pair of blacked-out vans on the edge of the forest, out of view from Meagan’s house.
Meagan squared her shoulders. This was her home and her brother. She was seeing it through. But Ben’s concern warmed her. It had been a long time since anyone had cared so much about her. She had to remind herself that, to him, she was only a means to an end, the rescue of King Michael.
Ben would deny he was using her, of course. He might have convinced himself she meant something to him. But as long as he refused to let himself love again, theirs could be nothing more than a marriage of convenience. More than likely, it would end with the current crisis. The thought was more depressing than she knew it should be.
All the same, Ben’s kisses promised a heaven Meagan yearned for with all her heart. For the first time she truly understood how it felt to be consumed by desire. Like the rest of the group, Ben was dressed all in black, his turtleneck sweater and pants making him look like a panther in human form, she thought. Desire for him gripped her like a fever she had to fight to shake off.
Adam Sinclair was supposed to lead the group, but Ben was the one the men deferred to instinctively, she had noticed. Alpha male, she found herself thinking. From what she had seen, Adam more than qualified for the title, so what did that make Ben? Was there such
a man as alpha-plus?
“Ready?” he touched her arm, and she was proud of keeping her reaction down to a slight tremor. She nodded. Then he had to spoil the moment by saying, “Stay behind me as we approach the house.”
Adam had briefed them beforehand. No heroics, he had said, looking straight at Meagan and Isabel. Meagan’s job was to try to reason with her brother, get him to let them know the king’s whereabouts, and the identity of the leader. But she didn’t like Ben reminding her of what he imagined was her place.
The team’s task was to arrest Shane and Dave, and return them to the castle for further questioning. All over in five minutes.
Best-laid plans, she thought. As soon as Adam identified himself and called to Shane to give himself up, shots were loosed at the group from inside the house. Meagan ducked instinctively, but stood her ground, sure that Shane wouldn’t shoot her.
She gasped as Ben dragged her into a hedge. “Crazy woman, you’re not bulletproof.”
She struggled in his hold, then gasped as a searing pain shot up her leg from her left ankle. She had twisted her ankle on a tree root as she ducked Shane’s first shots. She bit her lip, refusing to let Ben see that she was hurt. “Let me go. Shane will talk to me, I know he will.”
Ben looked furious. “And he might also shoot you. Stay here. That’s an order.”
The pain in her ankle argued against defying him, but he didn’t need to know that. She set her jaw into a mutinous line.
She saw Adam lead his team around the side of the cottage. By now, Meagan knew that Isabel and Jake should be in position at the back. On the way from the castle, Meagan had learned that the princess had served in naval intelligence, so she was well qualified for this mission. Adam had been her commanding officer before the king summoned her back to royal life. Given Isabel’s background, Ben’s objection to her involvement seemed illogical.
He didn’t want her here either, Meagan recalled. He was a chauvinist who thought women needed mollycoddling, and he had to learn that she wouldn’t put up with it for much longer.