The Lost Prince

by Dees, Cindy

  Nick shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do about that. You married me and slept with me knowing full well you might get pregnant and that you could end up carrying a child Sharaf’s people would want to kill.”

  He was right. But she couldn’t very well admit that the thought had never really crossed her mind that carrying this baby would be so dangerous. She’d been so blown away by the idea of making love with Nick that she hadn’t really absorbed the other implications of her decision.

  But she bloody well saw those implications now. “Answer me this—once Sharaf is removed from power and you’re restored to your throne, will the threat to me and this baby go away?”

  Nick didn’t even have to stop to consider his answer. “Of course not. There are always crazies out there.”

  “In other words, I should expect myself and my child to live surrounded by bodyguards and death threats for years to come.”

  “Yes. I’d say that’s a realistic expectation.”

  Wonderful. Just great. “That’s not a particularly pleasant way for a child to grow up.” She added dryly, “Not to mention an unpleasant way for me to live.”

  “I survived it.” He shrugged. “There is an upside to being royal. You get to live in a palace and take great vacations. You should see the toys I got for my birthdays.”

  She wasn’t about to let him make light of this situation. She said firmly, “Wealth is no substitute for being safe and loved.”

  “This child will be safe. That’s what bodyguards are for. And this child will certainly be loved,” Nick retorted with a certain undertone of indignation. “I know what it felt like when my father ignored me. I would never ignore my own child.”

  “No, you’d just use a baby as a pawn in your political maneuvering.”

  “Katy. This child exists. That’s a fact. Yes, I’ll use any fact at my disposal to help make the case for getting my kingdom back. What’s so wrong with that?”

  “That fact is a baby. A helpless, vulnerable, endangered baby.”

  Definite exasperation vibrated in his voice now. “I’m offering you and the baby the full protection of my security team.”

  “In the first place, it’s a lousy way to live. And in the second place, I’m not all that impressed with your bodyguards, given that you’re sitting here right now.”

  “What do you want to do?” Nick’s voice began to rise. “Hope this child will just go away? Deny its parentage? Pretend we never got married?”

  She glanced up, alarmed, as a pedestrian hurried past, his shoulders hunched in his jacket, the collar pulled up around his ears. Was this her future? Jumping at every stranger who crossed her path?

  She turned her attention back to the angry man beside her. He was formidable in his wrath. Definitely king material. Before she’d gone to Baraq she might have wilted under such an onslaught. But now she was a different person. She’d taken chances and faced danger. She’d tested her moral spine and knew its strength. No matter how mad Nick was, she wasn’t about to crumble now, not when her child’s future rode on it.

  “Don’t patronize me, Nick. All I’m asking is that you not say anything to anyone about the existence of this child for a while. Let the political situation simmer down. Boot out Sharaf, get your throne back and let the hotheads who followed him get used to the idea of you as king. There will be plenty of time later to announce that you have an heir.”

  “That’s a wonderful plan. But yet again I find myself in a situation where I have no time. I have a few days, maybe a week, to convince your government to help me. Without the backing of the United States, I can forget winning over the United Nations. And without the backing of both, I cannot take back Baraq.”

  “The way I heard it in Akuba, most people thought Sharaf’s government would eventually collapse from the weight of its own greed and infighting.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Even if the Sharaf regime does collapse, who’ll step in to take over after him? If I don’t make a strong run at the throne now, other players will step onto the field and make a grab at power. The only way to prevent long-term chaos is for me to put an end to anybody else’s ideas of snatching Baraq for themselves.”

  No doubt about it, Nick’s logic was sound. But where did that leave Katy and this baby? The answer was bitter on her tongue. It left them playing second fiddle to Nick’s obsession with regaining the Ramsey throne.

  What in heaven’s name was she supposed to do now?

  Just as he bent to the floor, Sharaf caught a glimpse of an aide rushing toward him. Irritated, he ignored the aide, who should’ve known not to disturb him at his prayers. Particularly now, when everything was coming apart at the seams.

  He could use all the divine intervention he could get. Baraq’s coffers were empty. His top officers were fighting amongst themselves. A few of them were even threatening to defect back to the royalist camp if he didn’t cough up the monetary rewards from Baraq’s treasury that he’d promised them before he’d found out it was bankrupt.

  Finally he climbed to his feet, glaring at the aide who stood there trembling, cell phone in hand.

  “A call for you, General. From Major Moubayed.”

  Moubayed? About damned time. Sharaf snatched the phone and slammed it to his ear. “Tell me some good news,” he growled.

  “I have located King Nikolas. As you predicted, he was holed up at his mother’s home. He finally showed himself this afternoon.”

  Sharaf’s heart leaped. “Excellent!”

  “There is more, sir.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He left alone and went to visit a woman. They embraced with great passion when they met. He clearly cares for this woman.”

  Sharaf’s mental wheels started to turn. Maybe he could kidnap the woman. Use her to blackmail Nikolas into formally abdicating. Problem: the selfish dog never attached himself to any female seriously or for long.

  “She will come and go from Nikolas’s life. She is no help to us.”

  “I overheard King Nikolas ask her if she wished to pretend they’d never gotten married.”

  Sharaf about dropped the cell phone. “Married? When? Who?”

  “It is the girl from the InterAid team. The one who visited him all the time in his prison cell in Baraq before we knew he was the king. They must have met then. Maybe they’ve married in the past few days.”

  Sharaf’s eyes narrowed. Marriage meant sex, and sex meant babies. Or more to the point, heirs. And heirs meant hope for the return of the Ramsey regime to the people of Baraq. Oh, no. That would not do at all. He snapped, “Kidnap the girl. And soon. Before he gets her with child.”

  He hung up the phone without bothering to wait for Moubayed’s reply. The man was no dummy. He knew what rode on stopping Nikolas from reproducing. Everything.

  Chapter 12

  Katy tossed and turned most of the night, replaying the argument in her head. She saw Nick’s point, but he needed to see hers, too. It was all well and good to try to get his throne back, but what good would it do to have the stupid thing if his child weren’t alive to inherit it?

  The next morning, she dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom of her apartment, where she duly emptied the scant contents of her stomach. What a time for morning sickness to strike. She managed to sip some chamomile tea and nibble a few crackers and was just starting to feel human again when her cell phone rang.

  She was half tempted to ignore it. What was the point of arguing more with Nick? Neither of them was going to change their mind on this one. They both had too much riding on it—he his throne, and she the safety of her baby.

  Reluctantly she answered. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Katy. It’s Don Ford. Could you come down to the InterAid offices sometime today?”

  What in the world? She still had another two weeks of r & r after the Baraq assignment. Why was Ford calling her during her time off? She replied, “Uh, sure. When?”

  “As soon as it’s convenient for you. I’ll be here all
day.”

  She looked at her watch. It was nearly nine o’clock. The worst of the morning rush hour would be over soon. Maybe a little dry toast and some more herbal tea, and then the Metro ride to the InterAid building downtown. “How about ten o’clock?”

  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  She frowned at the phone as she hung it up. While he’d been cordial enough, Don had sounded noticeably more formal than usual. What was up with that?

  Dread settled heavily in her stomach. Something bad was going down.

  Don was not alone when she stepped into his office. Larry Grayson was there, along with several other men Katy didn’t recognize. Don introduced them. They were all on the InterAid board of directors. Their names went past Katy in a blur. What did register was the way they all were frowning at her. Even Larry’s mouth was a tighter white line than usual.

  She sat at the conference table with the group and looked at her boss expectantly.

  He didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “InterAid has received a complaint from the interim government of Baraq regarding your actions while you were in that country acting as InterAid’s representative.”

  Oh, God.

  Ford continued, “General Sharaf has faxed us a report detailing your activities for the three weeks you were in Baraq. And, I have to say, it’s most alarming. It alleges that you became personally involved with one of the prisoners, that you bribed guards, that you interacted covertly with women in the city of Akuba and assisted them with illegal activities and that you violated the Geneva Conventions by withholding the identity of certain prisoners.”

  Wow. Give the general an A-plus for doing his homework! He hadn’t missed a trick. Panic hovered just beneath her skin. She didn’t want to guess how that information had been obtained. Had young Riki, the guard she’d bribed with honey cakes, been beaten or tortured? Were the women she’d met in Akuba all right? Concern for her acquaintances in Baraq rose up to choke her.

  One of the other men at the table leaned forward. “How do you respond to these accusations?”

  She didn’t have three brothers and a father who were trial lawyers for nothing. She knew better than to blurt out a confession of guilt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. And if she’d learned nothing else from Nick, she’d learned things were never as they seemed on the surface when it came to Baraq.

  What was Sharaf up to? Why had he come after her like this? Had he figured out the man his men had hanged wasn’t Nick? This complaint smacked of a fishing expedition to draw out Nick.

  Katy also knew from her family how to buy time by answering a question with a question. “When did Sharaf file this complaint? And what supporting evidence did he provide? How did he gather this supposed evidence?”

  The men acted startled. What? They didn’t think a McMann would know how to handle herself under legal pressure? Surprise, boys.

  Ford fielded her questions. “Uh, the report came early this morning, and he didn’t give us any information about how he found all this out. He just listed the activities he was protesting.”

  And now for a bit of the old best-defense-being-a-good-offense tactic. “What are his demands?” Katy asked. “For surely he wasn’t making this little report out of the goodness of his heart. The guy’s a war criminal who overthrew a legitimate and peaceful government by force, for crying out loud.”

  One of the directors cleared his throat. “He’s asked for compensation from InterAid in lieu of suing us for malpractice and negligence.”

  She snorted. “And you’re actually thinking about caving in to such a transparent tactic? Tell the guy to go suck an egg. Threaten to summon an international tribunal and put him on trial for war crimes. Starting with him hanging the rightful king of Baraq without a trial.”

  The men waxed thoughtful at that suggestion.

  She leaned back in her chair and crossed her hands over her stomach. She said wryly, “I happen to know a team of attorneys who’d be happy to rake this guy over the coals for you.”

  While they chewed on that reminder of who her family was, she gathered her purse and stood. “If you gentlemen would like me to have the McMann Law Firm send him a snappy letter suggesting he cease and desist with these ridiculous threats or if you decide to go ahead and charge Sharaf with war crimes, let me know. I can get you a nice break on the regular hourly rate for the McMann brothers’ services. Although God help Sharaf if he actually drags my brothers into court. They’ll eat him alive.”

  And on that not the least bit subtle hint that the McMann brothers could just as easily eat InterAid alive on her behalf, too, she sailed out of the office.

  A few minutes later, she sagged in her plastic subway seat, a great deal more nauseous than her pregnancy could account for. How in the world had Sharaf found all that out about her? And why had he bothered? As far as he should know, she was just some anonymous relief worker who’d come and gone. There was no reason he should have singled her out like this.

  Did Sharaf know about her and Nick? How could he? After this morning’s business, how could he not?

  Who else knew about her and Nick? How much danger were she and the baby in? One thing was for sure: this latest stunt by Sharaf made her more certain than ever that she and Nick must not reveal to anyone the existence of the baby.

  She had a bad feeling about this. A really, really bad one. How Sharaf had figured out something was up between her and Nick, she had no idea. At best, he was experimenting to see what happened when he poked at Katy. At worst, he had some truly sinister plan for her.

  All of a sudden the Metro felt entirely too claustrophobic. She got off at the next stop and went up into the city to walk around a bit while her stomach settled down.

  And then another logical conclusion struck her: Sharaf had to know Nick was alive. Why else would he be investigating and harassing people connected to Nick? She stopped on the street corner, pulled out her cell phone and dialed the phone number Nick had given her yesterday.

  Nick answered it personally. “Go ahead,” he said curtly.

  “Nick, it’s me.”

  Nick’s tone shifted drastically to one of warm affection. “Katy. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. But we’ve got a problem.”

  “Is everything all right?” he asked in quick concern.

  “The baby and I are fine—if you call my first bout of morning sickness fine. But InterAid just got a detailed report from Sharaf complaining about my relationship with you in Baraq. He’d have no reason to be poking around over me unless he knew you were alive.”

  “Damn. I knew he’d find out eventually, but I was hoping it would take longer. I’m running out of time to convince your government to help me.” A pause. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got no choice. I have to tell the State Department about an heir to the throne being on the way. You and our child are American. That will carry a huge amount of weight with your government.”

  “Nick! Sharaf can’t be certain whether or not I’m truly important to you, yet he’s already trying to use me against you. Just imagine what he’ll try to do to me if he finds out there’s a baby! You can’t possibly tell anyone about this!”

  “Katy, I have no other options. The negotiations are stalled, and unless I bring some new and compelling reason to the table for your government to intervene, it’s not going to happen. I’ll lose my throne.”

  “There’s got to be some other way. Work through private lobbying groups. Goodness knows, women’s-rights groups would be willing to help you, given what Sharaf’s doing to women in Baraq.”

  “I’m sure they would. And getting my throne back that way could take years. Decades. Maybe never.”

  “What’s more important, Nick? Your throne or your child?”

  He huffed in what sounded like exasperation. “They’re inseparable in my mind. They’re the two halves of my Ramsey legacy. I need both to fulfill my duty to my family and my country.”

  “Dammit, Nick! We
are your family! Not some palace full of dusty swords on the wall or a cemetery full of dead people. Us!”

  “Katy, Ramseys have sat on the throne of Il Leone for a thousand years. I will not be the one to break that chain. I will have my throne back and I—and my children—will sit upon it again.”

  Stubborn, pigheaded man! What was it going to take to get through to him? A beep sounded on the phone line.

  “That’s my call-waiting, Katy, and I need to answer it. Kareem and George are at the State Department again, trying to convince the people over there to work with us.”

  She hung up, put the cell phone back in her purse and stuck her arm out to hail a cab. Nick was being such a jerk! All he was concerned about was his precious throne. Duty and honor over all.

  It wasn’t a bad sentiment, just infuriating! No matter that he’d completely imploded her life. No matter that she had no idea how she was going to raise this child with even a semblance of normalcy once word of its existence became public. In this country, it was expensive to buy privacy.

  Maybe because she was distracted by that whole new set of worries, she didn’t notice the man who walked up behind her. All she knew was that suddenly a man in a black leather bomber jacket had her by the elbow and was crowding her forcibly toward a delivery van that had just pulled to the curb.

  It all happened so fast that she barely had time to think about it. The guy who had her arm was strong and quick. She caught a flash of dark hair, a big sliding door opening in front of her and blackness yawning inside.

  Maybe it was because she was so furious already that she completely went berserk. Or maybe it was some heretofore dormant mother-protecting-child reaction breaking loose in her. But either way, only one thought exploded across her brain: nobody was harming her baby!

  She kicked and screamed and scratched. She dropped to the ground when the guy tried to get his arms around her and she rolled against his shins, knocking him off balance, screaming all the while. She glimpsed several passersby stopping. They looked willing to help but unsure what to do.