by Dees, Cindy
Nick’s world ended right there. He sprinted for all he was worth toward the sound of the man’s voice. And fell to the ground beside a pile of brush that two of the men had hastily yanked aside. Beside his Katy.
Even in this near-total blackness, her skin was pale. Unnaturally so. And a pool of liquid black spread under her right shoulder.
He was too incoherent to form words of prayer. He just sent his desperation and love toward heaven and hoped that whatever deity who heard it understood.
One of the FBI agents shouldered his way through the others. He knelt quickly and put his hands on Katy’s neck, looking for a pulse.
And then he announced, “I’ve got a pulse. Regular but thready. Have the chopper drop the crash kit.”
Someone barked tersely into a radio while the medic used a flashlight to find the source of the blood. It didn’t take long. A ragged wound across the top of her shoulder near the base of her neck.
The medic grabbed a paper packet and ripped it open with his teeth. He pressed a large gauze pad hard against the wound. “She’s bleeding freely, but the bullet didn’t penetrate her shoulder. It just ripped across the surface. Assuming she hasn’t lost a lot of blood, she should be okay. But I still want to get her to a hospital ASAP. Someone get a cuff on her and monitor her blood pressure.”
The weight lifted off Nick’s chest a little. He still wasn’t going to be satisfied until she looked up at him and smiled. Until a doctor declared her completely well.
“Has the chopper got a basket?” the medic called out.
“Affirmative,” someone answered.
“Drop it. We’ve got to get this patient out of here. Her blood pressure’s dropping.”
After that, it all passed in a blur. A metal mesh basket was dropped through the trees. Katy was gently lifted into it. The medic climbed in beside her. And then she disappeared into the night. It reminded Nick eerily of watching her ascend to heaven.
A bunch of men crashed through the trees to announce that all four tangos were dead. Whatever the hell a tango was. Obviously they weren’t referring to a dance. Nick could only hope they were referring to Moubayed and his men.
He raced out of the woods with Travis and a few of the FBI men to the SUVs. Nick barely registered the frantic ride back to Bethesda, Maryland, and the naval hospital there. A blur of white corridors and bright lights, and then an interminable wait pacing in a waiting room with vinyl upholstered chairs and a television that wouldn’t shut up.
And then a doctor came to the door in green surgical scrubs. “Mr. Ramsey?”
He whirled, searching the man’s face for a hint of whether it was good or bad news. “Yes? How is she?”
“She’s going to be fine. She lost a lot of blood, but we have her stabilized and the bleeding stopped. The bullet grazed an artery in her shoulder. Had help not gotten to her as quickly as it did…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.
“And the baby?”
The doctor nodded. “Fine. We’ll continue to monitor your wife closely for the next few days and make sure there are no complications to her or the baby.”
Nick’s legs suddenly wouldn’t support his weight. He collapsed into a chair and put his hands over his face. What had he done in his lifetime to earn having his prayers for Katy answered, he didn’t know. But he wasn’t about to question the wisdom of whatever higher being had blessed him so.
He heard an unsteady breath beside him and realized Travis had collapsed in the seat next to his.
Nick pulled himself together enough to ask, “Can I see her?”
“Yes. She’s lightly sedated and resting, but you can sit with her if you like.”
Katy swam slowly through the fog surrounding her. Time passed. She woke up again. She was still groggy. Still surrounded in fog. But she was aware of sheets over her and bandages tight upon her shoulder, which throbbed.
More time passed.
The second time she woke up, she fully awoke.
Nick was there. Right beside her. “Hi, beautiful,” he murmured.
“Hi,” she whispered, surprised that was all the sound that came out of her throat.
“Don’t try to talk.”
Her hand fluttered weakly toward her abdomen.
Nick captured her fingers and smiled reassuringly. “The baby’s fine.”
She sagged against the mattress. Thank God. She became aware of other people in the room. Her parents. And Travis. And…
She frowned. The woman who’d served her tea in Akuba? Was she hallucinating, then?
“Am I awake?” she mumbled.
Nick squeezed her hand gently. “You’ve been asleep for several hours. They had to do a little surgery to repair an artery in your shoulder. But everything’s fine now.”
Good. That was good. She nodded her head. She felt so weak and woozy. “Who’s that lady?”
Nick glanced over his shoulder. “My mother. When she heard that Moubayed shot you, she insisted on coming here to be with us. I never realized the woman you met in Baraq was my mother.”
Katy tried to shrug, but piercing pain in her shoulder stopped that idea cold. “She never told me her name,” Katy whispered.
“She was in grave danger. Had Sharaf spotted her, she’d have been arrested and likely killed, too. It was crazy of her to risk her life like that.” He tossed an I’ll-talk-to-you-later glare at the woman, and his mother’s chin lifted defiantly.
Katy’s free hand settled on her abdomen. Smiling at Nick’s mother, she murmured, “It’s a mommy thing. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged her away from you when you were in trouble. Don’t blame her.”
Nick sighed. “At any rate, she’s delighted we got married. She liked you a lot, apparently.” He rolled his eyes and added under his breath, “Your mother and mine have been gushing nonstop over having a grandchild ever since they found out you were going to be okay.”
A dark stubble covered his cheeks and chin, and his hair was disheveled. But then he smiled at her, and she’d never seen him look more gorgeous.
She was feeling stronger by the minute. The anesthesia was wearing off quickly now. She spoke again, and this time her voice worked reasonably well. “I talked to Sharaf.”
Nick lurched to his feet. “What in the hell did he want?”
“He wanted me to give him all the money. In return, he promised to let us live and to name our first child heir to the Baraqi throne.”
Nick sucked in a quick breath between his teeth. “Did you take the deal?”
“No.”
Nick stared. “Why ever not? It’s everything we could have asked for and more! We’d live out our lives together in safety—” he squeezed her fingers “—and the Ramsey legacy would not be completely broken. When I thought I’d lost you earlier, I realized I don’t care a bit about being king. Not without you to share it with.”
She smiled weakly. “I said no because I realized I am a queen. Responsible for my people. Our people. And they need that money. It would take years, if ever, for Baraq to amass that much wealth again. They need it if Baraq is to lift itself into the twenty-first century.”
Nick stared at her. Stared some more.
And then he laughed. Long and loud. Finally he announced in high humor, “Never in my entire life did I expect to hear a line like that come out of your mouth. Here you are deciding that kingdom and country are all-important just when I’m finally deciding family and home are all-important.”
She smiled back at him. It was ironic, indeed. But then she coughed, gasping in pain as her shoulder jostled.
Nick jumped forward in concern. “I’ll go get the doctor. They can give you painkillers to make you comfortable.”
She grasped his hand more strongly to keep him from pulling away from her. Startled, he turned back to her.
“I’ll handle the pain. It helps me know I’m alive. Besides, with the baby, I shouldn’t take too many strong medications.”
Nick subsided onto the stool besid
e the bed, smiling at her.
She said, “Tell me about the rest of your press release. Sharaf told me you’d put one out to announce the transfer of Baraq’s entire treasury to me.”
“I hoped it would force Sharaf not to kill you.”
“It worked. He ordered Moubayed not to harm me.”
Nick’s fingers squeezed hers. “Travis and I had a press conference scheduled with you and me and an Undersecretary of State from your government to announce a deal between us to take my throne back from Sharaf.”
“How did the press conference go?”
He shrugged. “I canceled it. When we got the word you’d been kidnapped, I skipped out and came after you.”
“Oh, Nick,” she cried softly. “Was the State Department man angry?”
“He was annoyed.”
“Did he back out of the deal?”
“Not in so many words. He expressed concern for your welfare and fed me platitudes about family coming first. But Travis is worried that we blew our chance to push him into action against Sharaf.” He added, “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter. All I care about is that you and the baby are safe.”
“Yes, but it was such a golden opportunity to get your country back.”
He laid a gentle finger on her lips to silence her. “I’m serious. My throne would be meaningless without you beside me to share it.”
Katy stared at him, stunned. “You really mean that?”
“Of course.”
“Come here so I can kiss you, you wonderful man.”
He complied, his mouth touching hers gently. The walls fell away and it was all back in a flash—every bit of light and heat and soaring beauty they’d ever made between them.
And then a throat cleared behind them. Nick lifted his mouth away from hers, and reluctantly she let him go.
It was Travis.
“What do you want?” she said irritably. “You interrupted us at the good part.”
He laughed and stepped into the room. “I thought you two might like to see this.”
It was a faxed copy of a letter written in Arabic on royal Baraqi letterhead. Nick read it aloud in English.
“‘I, General Hamzad Sharaf, do hereby relinquish all control and governance of Baraq and do return sovereignty in full to His Royal Highness, Nikolas Ramsey, and his queen, Katrina McMann-Ramsey—’”
Nick looked up, his eyes glowing as fiercely golden as a lion’s. “When did you get this?” he demanded.
Travis grinned. “About five minutes ago. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”
Nick colored slightly. “I asked Kareem and George to have a chat with Sharaf a little while ago. They described to him in detail what being a prisoner was like. And apparently, they speculated on what Baraqi and international opinion would make of a man who kidnapped and threatened to kill an innocent pregnant woman and whose men actually did shoot her. He swore up and down he had nothing to do with Moubayed’s actions.”
“I heard Moubayed talking to Sharaf on the phone. Sharaf knew full well what Moubayed was up to. He’s lying!” Katy exclaimed and then winced in pain. She subsided against the pillows and said more quietly, “Sharaf told me he’d have me killed when I refused his deal. Screamed it at me, in fact. Then he told me to give the phone back to Moubayed. I threw the cell phone on the ground and stomped on it. I didn’t want Moubayed to get the order.”
Nick nodded. “The FBI surmised as much when they found the remains of the phone.”
Travis interjected, “You’ll need to make a formal statement to that effect, sis. The FBI will need it to close its case on Moubayed.”
She nodded and Nick continued, “They were able to recover data from Moubayed’s cell phone memory chip and found Sharaf’s private phone number in it. They also found a record of a call being placed from Moubayed’s phone to Sharaf a few minutes before the shootout. Not that it matters to Moubayed anymore. He’s dead.”
Katy was relieved that the man would never try to harm her or the baby again.
Nick shrugged. “At any rate, Sharaf decided a quiet retirement was preferable to a public execution.”
Katy looked up at Nick, her heart shining in her eyes. “Could it be more perfect? We’ve got our country back, the baby’s safe and, best of all, we have each other.”
He gazed down at her, infinite love mirrored in his eyes, as well. “It looks like you got your happily ever after, and I found my very own Cinderella. Remind me to have a pair of glass slippers made for you. And a carriage in the shape of a pumpkin.”
Katy laughed—and winced. “Thanks, but all I need is Prince Charming.”
“I am yours, heart and soul. For all eternity.”
She reflected that, for an anonymous humanitarian relief worker of no special note, she hadn’t done half-bad in the fairy-tale-ending department—a charming prince, an enchanted palace and, most importantly of all, true love.
She had, indeed, found her very own happily ever after.
They both had.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5824-6
THE LOST PRINCE
Copyright © 2006 by Cynthia Dees
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