The Marine & The Princess

by Cathie Linz

  “You’re probably right. I don’t know about the cost. The royal accountants take care of that sort of thing,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “And what sort of thing are you looking for me to take care of?”

  “Security,” she immediately replied. “Mine, to be more precise. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

  “Don’t insult me,” he stated curtly.

  She blinked at him. “I wasn’t trying to….”

  “I’m doing this for Prudence.” And because he’d been ordered to. “I’m on leave and had some time.” He was supposed to be on leave, but it was cancelled when he’d gotten this assignment.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s no need to say anything. Now what’s your plan?”

  Vanessa repeated it to him just as she had to Prudence, only with more precision and firmness so he wouldn’t think she hadn’t thought things through.

  “Sounds pretty lame to me. You hire some actor to pretend to be a doctor, and afterward he goes on to sell his story to the National Tattler.” Noting the dark circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin, he said, “I know a real doctor who’ll recommend that you stay in bed and rest. Suffering from exhaustion is the term most frequently used.”

  “The Von Volzemburgs never suffer from exhaustion.” The silky steeliness had returned to her voice. “We fought off Alexander the Great to protect our country and have been ruling ever since.”

  “That may be, but you don’t have to pour hot oil over the castle battlements to protect your country any longer.”

  “No, now I just have to spend twenty hours a day going from reception to reception,” she said tartly.

  Mark flashed her a mocking smile and showed no pity. “Like I said, a real tough life. Too much partying. Too little sleep. Dr. Rosenthal is your man. He’s seen it all before.”

  “He’s never seen me before,” she stated with haughty regality. “What makes you think he’d be willing to call my father?”

  “He’s a former Marine. Royalty doesn’t scare him.”

  “Royalty doesn’t scare you either, does it,” she noted.

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “Does anything frighten you?”

  “Like I said, I’m a U.S. Marine Corps officer. We don’t scare easily.”

  “Do you scare at all?”

  “Well, ma’am,” he drawled, “the idea of marriage and being committed to just one woman scares me.”

  “Marriage scares me, too,” she surprised him by admitting.

  “Since I’m not looking to marry you and you’re not looking to marry me, neither one of us has anything to worry about then.”

  “Except getting caught,” she said.

  “Marines don’t get caught. Now let’s get back to your plan.”

  “Before we do that, I must insist that you come up with another diagnosis. My father will simply not accept that I’m suffering from exhaustion. That is not a suitable excuse to avoid returning home. No, the diagnosis must have something to do with my ears.”

  His gaze automatically traveled across her high cheekbones to her ears. They were dainty and feminine, and she wore an earring in each lobe. No cubic zirconias for this princess. No, those rocks were diamonds. “Are you supposed to sleep with those things in your ears?”

  She touched her earlobe self-consciously. “I was too tired to do more than remove my clothing last night.”

  Which meant what? That she was naked beneath that silky purple robe?

  Years of training allowed Mark to keep an impassive look on his face, but inside he was responding to her proximity like a male, not a Marine.

  “Would your Dr. Rosenthal be willing to tell my father I can’t fly because I have a cold-flu thing?” she asked. “Remember it has to involve my ears so that I wouldn’t be able to fly for several days.”

  “Right. I’m sure the good doctor will say whatever is required.”

  “He won’t have ethical problems with that?”

  Mark wasn’t about to go into Dr. Rosenthal’s reasons for going along with this plan. “He’s a friend. I already told you, he’ll do as we ask. Let’s move on. Where do you plan on sleeping at night?” he asked.

  That was one question she hadn’t yet considered. “Here, I suppose,” she replied.

  “Here in your suite?” He shook his head. “Not a good idea. You’d be going past your own security guard every night. Eventually you’d get caught.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll sleep elsewhere. There are plenty of hotel rooms available in this city.”

  “Not that I can afford.”

  “I shall, of course, pay for all expenses,” she loftily informed him.

  “With what?” he demanded, pinning her with his saberlike gaze. “You think you’re not going to draw attention to yourself by using your platinum princess credit card? Or did you plan on having your accountants come trailing after you to pay for things?”

  “All right.” She shot him an irritated look. “So I haven’t exactly worked out all the details yet.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that I have. But before we go any further, Princess, we need to get a few things clear. First off, I’m in charge of this op.”

  “Op?” she repeated with a lift of one of her delicately shaped eyebrows.

  “Operation.”

  “Ah, a military rather than medical term, I’m assuming?” she noted mockingly.

  “Affirmative. I’ve had more experience at this sort of thing than you have.”

  “At pretending to be a regular person?”

  “At pretending to be something I’m not,” Mark replied, very well aware of the fact that if Princess Vanessa Alexandria Maria Teresa Von Volzemburg knew the real reason he was here, she’d toss him out on his ear. It was his job to make sure she didn’t find out.

  Chapter Two

  “Your Highness?” Vanessa’s lady-in-waiting knocked on the bedroom door. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

  “No, Celeste!” Vanessa jumped up and hurried out of the bathroom. Putting one hand on the door to prevent the other woman from entering, she added, “Come back in fifteen minutes, please.”

  “As Your Highness wishes.”

  Turning, Vanessa almost bumped into Mark. He moved so fast and so silently that she hadn’t even realized he’d left the bathroom. She took a startled step backward and tripped over the hem of her robe.

  Mark immediately reached out to steady her. She was standing so close to him now that she could see her own reflection in his blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.

  His hands had automatically gone to her waist to steady her, and the feel of his strong hands warmed her through the silk of her robe. Indeed, she was all too conscious of each individual fingertip pressing against her, creating a restless stirring in the innermost recesses of her heart.

  She could feel his heat, could sense the strength in his powerful body. She remembered the last time she’d seen him, at Prudence’s wedding, where she noticed the swagger and confidence that was so much a part of him. Even standing still, as he was now, he still exuded a don’t-mess-with-me hardness combined with a sexy bad-boy charm. What a potent combination.

  But she was no wide-eyed military groupie to be taken in by a man in a uniform, or in this case a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Especially one as sure of himself as Captain Mark Wilder was.

  Even so, there was definitely something about this man that got to her.

  As if suddenly realizing he’d been holding her long after she’d regained her balance, Mark abruptly released her and said, “Who is Celeste?”

  Vanessa had to think a moment, so scattered were her thoughts from his proximity. “Celeste? She’s my lady-in-waiting. She also serves as my private secretary.” Vanessa quickly moved around him to walk to the middle of the bedroom. She needed a bit more space between them in order to regain her composure. Her body was still humming from his touch. “I have to have Celeste’s help to p
ull this off.”

  Mark shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

  “Why not? Celeste can be trusted. You have your Marine comrades, I have my lady-in-waiting.”

  Mark rolled his eyes. He had lovely blue eyes, but it was his smile that was a real killer. Or maybe his blue eyes made his smile more powerful because his eyes gleamed with wicked humor. They weren’t gleaming now, but they had when they’d been in the bathroom together. Now he was looking at her with impatience.

  She was not the least bit intimidated. “I told you in the beginning when I outlined my plan to you that Celeste will cover my disappearance from the suite by acting as if I was still here.”

  “Fine. Get her in here, and I’ll listen in to your explanation from the bathroom. I don’t want her walking in and screaming because she finds a strange man in your bedroom.”

  “She wouldn’t scream,” Vanessa said.

  “Why?” He pinned her with his gaze. “Because she’s used to finding strange men in your bedroom?”

  Vanessa bestowed a royal glare upon him. “That is a totally inappropriate question.”

  “Not when I’m providing your security, it’s not. If there are any besotted beaux in the picture…”

  “There aren’t,” she said curtly. Sebastian was hardly besotted with her. Besides he was back in Volzemburg.

  “Good.” Mark sounded entirely too satisfied with her response. “That simplifies things. Go ahead and call in your lady-in-whatever.”

  “Lady-in-waiting.”

  “Meanwhile, I’ll call the doctor and have him come over here.” Mark disappeared into the bathroom.

  The man had no manners. Didn’t he know it was rude to leave her presence without bowing first? Not a nose-to-the-floor kind of bow, but a respectful tilt of the head. Granted she’d told him to treat her normally, but then signs of respect from men were how she was normally treated. She’d have to learn to be more casual. But first she had to convince Celeste to help her.

  She called the other woman in.

  “Have I done something to offend you, Your Highness?” Celeste asked in a nervous voice, looking at her with big brown eyes. Her dark hair was smoothed into place with a silver hair clip in a demure style that accentuated her round face.

  “On the contrary,” Vanessa reassured her, closing the bedroom door. “I need your assistance in a matter of great importance. This can be trusted to no one else but you. You know that these past few months have been very busy and, well… I’ll simply be blunt with you, Celeste. I need some time away.”

  Celeste nodded solemnly. “I know. And I agree, Your Highness. Which is why I’m so glad we’ll be returning to Volzemburg later today.”

  “No, we won’t. We’re staying here in New York a little longer.” Vanessa quickly outlined her plan and Celeste’s part in it.

  “Your Highness, are you sure this is a good idea?” Celeste inquired in an extremely doubtful voice.

  “I’m certain.” Vanessa used her most regal tone, the one that could convince people that the sun was the moon. “Now, are you with me on this?”

  Celeste nodded. “You know I’ll do whatever you want me to, Your Highness. You’ve been so good to me and to my family. There were others who wanted this position, but you chose me, and I appreciate that more than I can say.”

  “I knew I could count on you.”

  “You are certain that you will never be in any danger?” Celeste asked. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself were anything to happen to you.”

  “I’ll make sure nothing happens to her,” Mark said from the bathroom doorway.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” Vanessa said. “This is Captain Mark Wilder. He’s my best friend’s brother-in-law and a Marine. He’ll be my temporary bodyguard. United States Marines guard the White House and the U.S. embassies. I’ll be as safe as could be.”

  “What about Anton?” Celeste inquired.

  “Anton, the royal security officer?” Vanessa noted the shine in her young lady-in-waiting’s eyes. “The one who has an affection for you?”

  Celeste blushed. “Anton would never do anything to compromise your safety,” she said earnestly. “His first loyalty is to you and the Crown.”

  “His first loyalty is to my father,” Vanessa noted bluntly, “which is why we’re not telling Anton about this plan. He’d report it to the king in a flash. You must swear to me that you won’t say a word to Anton.”

  “I swear, Your Highness.” Celeste placed her hand on her own heart as she made the solemn vow. “You can trust me.”

  “Good. Then let’s get this plan started. Tell Anton that I’m not feeling well this morning and that I don’t wish to be disturbed. Oh, and when a Dr. Rosenthal arrives, please show him right in.”

  Celeste departed, leaving behind the breakfast she’d brought with her. Mark was already lifting the heavy silver covers from the plates. “I’m starving. Fruit. Is that all you eat for breakfast? Ah, pancakes.” He licked his lips and dipped a finger into the small sterling pitcher that held warmed maple syrup. “Good. You don’t mind if I eat some of this, do you?” He dragged an armchair over to the small table holding the food. “All I got on the red-eye flight up here was a bag of salty peanuts.”

  “Where did you fly in from?”

  “Washington, D.C.”

  “Is that where you’re stationed?”

  He nodded and took a healthy bite of pancakes.

  “A lovely place,” she noted. “But I believe New York is my favorite American city. There’s such an excitement here, you can almost hear its heartbeat.”

  “All I hear is traffic.”

  The man had no soul. Which wasn’t surprising. Marines weren’t known for their poetic natures.

  Sitting there in her bedroom, eating her breakfast, he looked tough and sexy. The black T-shirt and black jeans he wore added a dangerous edge to his appearance. She could easily imagine him in an undercover operation. She could easily imagine him under her covers, period.

  Oh my. She hadn’t had these kinds of fantasies about a man in ages. Not since the last time she’d seen him at Prudence’s wedding. This was certainly not the man to have those kinds of fantasies about. He was much too rough and too irreverent, too physical and too earthy. The qualifications for a good temporary bodyguard were not the same as those for a partner in a romantic relationship. Especially for a princess.

  She wasn’t looking for a man in her life. She was looking for some freedom.

  Briskly shoving her erotic thoughts aside, she said, “While you’re eating, I think I’ll write up a list of what I’d like to accomplish during these next few days.”

  “Write away,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pancake.

  Taking a piece of official stationery from her personal supply on the Chippendale-style writing desk, she nibbled on the edge of a pen that had been given to her by the queen of England for her twenty-first birthday. “Despite all my visits to New York, I’ve never seen the major tourist attractions like the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building.” She wrote those down. Despite her best efforts, her handwriting had never been as elegant and flowing as her younger sister Anna’s. A handwriting analyst had once done an article about Vanessa, saying she had a stubborn individual style that occasionally showed a surprising lack of confidence. Bingo. That was her personality in a nutshell. For once, the press got it right. “Oh, and I’d love to take a moonlit stroll through Central Park.”

  “Dumb move,” he said bluntly.

  She fixed him with a mocking stare. “Come now, Mark, don’t be shy. Tell me how you really feel.”

  “Feelings have nothing to do with it.” He took a sip of coffee. “I’m telling you that walking through Central Park at night isn’t smart.”

  “Nonsense. I’ll have a big strong Marine next to me. Besides, I’ve heard that New York is a much safer city now than it used to be.”

  “You’re going through all this trouble just so you can do touristy stuff, like visit the
Statue of Liberty. That’s all?” This assignment might not be so hard after all, he decided, aside from the walk in the park. That was a definite no-go. He was not compromising her security to that extreme.

  Protecting foreign dignitaries usually did not fall under his command, or any Marine’s command for that matter, but this situation was unique. He’d been given this assignment because of his connections to Vanessa. As his C.O., his commanding officer, had told him, he was the only man for the job.

  “I want to do what normal people do,” Vanessa was saying. “Eat at a fast-food restaurant, shop at a regular department store, go out dancing at a club at night—one that’s not just for the rich and famous.”

  Shopping. Mark froze, his fork poised above the next portion of pancake. He’d rather do a month of Arctic training than shop. Marines didn’t shop. They went into a store, procured their necessities and got out ASAP.

  And what had she listed before shopping? Dancing? He wasn’t a big fan of that wimpy activity either. Unless it was line dancing. He’d mastered that at a nifty little bar called Buck’s several years back. Where had that been? He frowned. So many assignments, so many bases.

  But none of them had prepared him for dealing with a princess. If he had food like this served to him on a silver platter every day, he doubted he’d take off the way she wanted to. But then his mission was not to wonder why, his was to do or die.

  And while the thought of dancing and shopping made him cringe, it wouldn’t literally kill him. Not like his time spent in Desert Storm eleven years ago as a young recruit or his last overseas assignment a year ago. Those had been dangerous. This was a piece of cake.

  He was a “Mustang,” an enlisted man who’d worked his way up the ranks to become an officer. He thrived on challenges and was trained for efficiency. He excelled at strategy, and his strategy in this op was simple—to befriend Vanessa. A friendly princess was a more docile princess. He didn’t want a rowdy royal on his hands here.

  “There, my preliminary list is done. I think I’ll go take a shower and get dressed now,” she announced.

  “Put on some exercise clothes,” he told her, his thoughts already moving on to the next step in his plan.