Natural-Born Protector / Saved by the Monarch

by Carla Cassidy

  He made a move like he was clearing his throat and adjusting his scarf, but Miklos could have sworn the guy was saying something into a radio behind his collar.

  He fixed the guy’s face in his mind and headed for the door. “I’ll be off to get some weapons and check on something. You’ll be in good hands with the doctor and Luigi,” he said. “You’re not to leave the inn without me. Under any circumstances,” he added.

  THE DOCTOR HAD GIVEN her a clean bill of health and told her to rest. Judi had slept, eaten pretty much all the food and drunk all the tea. Miklos still hadn’t come back. The cuckoo clock on the wall showed four in the morning.

  “Where are you?” she whispered to the window.

  She brushed her index finger against her lips absentmindedly, then grew annoyed when she caught herself.

  Yet she had to admit that his kisses had been amazing. And she couldn’t deny that kissing him had very nearly turned into something more. He had the body of a soldier, all hard muscle and strength. And warmth. Oh, how she craved that heat that radiated from him. She could still smell the scent of his warm skin. She felt helpless against whatever drew her to him from the first moment, which was beyond disconcerting.

  He was incredibly male, full of sex appeal, powerful in every sense of the word. But he could also be gentle. And he wasn’t full of himself. He had a sense of humor. She had a feeling that if she didn’t fight him tooth and nail, sooner or later the crazy attraction between them was going to do her in.

  Dammit.

  This was so not why she’d come to Valtria. Was it too much to ask to have some fun and celebrate her birthday without kidnappings and avalanches? Instead, here was Prince Miklos wanting all sorts of crazy and impossible things. Like a marriage of convenience, for heaven’s sake. Well, for the country’s sake, actually. And if she weren’t careful, she could so easily fall in love with him—

  Deep breath.

  “That’s not going to happen,” she said to the empty room with some vehemence.

  She’d been trying to take stock of her situation for the past hour and come to some kind of resolution. A small noise distracted her at the door, and when she looked expectantly to see whether it was Miklos or Luigi coming, she caught sight of the old-fashioned key jiggling in the lock then being pushed in.

  Miklos and Luigi would knock if they wanted to come inside.

  Something scraped against the door. The short hairs at the back of her neck stood up.

  She moved quietly to the wardrobe. The blankets she’d been wrapped in were so warm and cozy that she’d been reluctant to give them up, but now she took the nearest pair of warm pants and a shirt, pulled them on, then shrugged into a pair of fur boots. They were too large, but she didn’t have time to worry about that.

  She grabbed a wool sweater next, but didn’t waste time by putting it on immediately. She dashed to the window instead, climbed the writing desk in front of it, managing not to knock anything off, and opened the latch. The next second she was out on a narrow ledge with nowhere to go.

  The cold air hit her face like a wall. She so did not want to go out in that again. And that was before she looked down.

  Oh God.

  The ground was farther away than she had expected. Cobblestones peeked from under slushy snow. Didn’t look like a soft place to fall.

  She pulled the window closed as much as she could behind her, teetering on the narrow ledge.

  The lock in the door scraped again.

  No time to hesitate.

  A flagpole protruded from the stone wall about two feet to her left. She stepped on that to be out of sight of the window, and prayed that it would hold her weight. She wished she had known that she would be required to do some high-wire act on a flimsy perch before she had scarfed down Luigi’s fabulous food.

  She considered her situation, holding her breath. The ground was too far to jump to, the roof too high to reach. She was pretty much at the end of the road.

  Where was Miklos when she needed him?

  Voices filtered from the neighboring room on her other side.

  “It couldn’t have been Prince Miklos. He’s not on a ski holiday, for heaven’s sake. He was kidnapped,” a man said, sounding like he was getting tired of the argument.

  “I just know it was him. I only saw his back when he turned down the stairs, but I’d recognize that back,” a woman insisted.

  The man groaned.

  And Judi very nearly did, too. Next thing they knew, the media would be here before the rescue team, breathing down their necks.

  She could hear the door in her room open then close, and that drew her attention from the bickering couple. She was hanging on to the uneven stones, holding the sweater with her teeth, quietly freezing to death once again. She hadn’t had time to grab her gloves.

  It was only a matter of time before whoever was inside the room would realize that the window was open a crack and would look out and spot her.

  So when a canvas-top truck pulled up in front of the restaurant, Judi offered a brief prayer toward the snow clouds in the sky. Other than the truck, the street was deserted. She waited until the driver went inside, then jumped.

  And got the wind knocked right out of her. Hitting the top of the truck felt pretty close to what it would have been like to hit the sidewalk. Apparently, she’d miscalculated.

  Crates had been packed from top to bottom in the van. Hard, wooden crates that had no give in them whatsoever. She lay there for a minute, her hip and shoulders pulsing with pain, wishing she’d thought a little more before she’d leaped. Canvas-top jumps always worked out fine in the movies.

  “Morgen habe ich wieder Freizeit,” someone coming from a side alley said in German.

  “Das weiss ich nicht…” another man responded as they walked out of hearing distance.

  She didn’t have much time to contemplate, so she ran through her options as she pulled on the sweater then painfully climbed down and thumped into the snow on the street. For a second, she leaned against the van’s side, against the sign that advertised Fresh Breads of Sacorata, and gasped to catch her breath. Sacorata was the next bigger town, according to Miklos, fifty miles into the valley.

  She could stay and trust his protection. Except that he had his family to worry about. She would be nothing but an added handicap, slowing him down, putting him into even more danger.

  Or she could get out of town on her own, out of the country before anyone realized that she was gone. She shouldn’t have come to Valtria in the first place, that much was becoming increasingly clear.

  Regardless of the fact that she was attracted to Miklos. More than attracted. She had nearly made love with him, might have if he hadn’t pulled back.

  She kissed him, when she had sworn she wouldn’t. She was losing all good judgment. If she stayed with him, he’d somehow talk her into going along with the whole arranged-marriage insanity. She would have been willing to give him her body, just minutes ago, after having known him for only days. And he wanted so much more than that. He wanted her to honor some archaic agreement and become his wife, a princess.

  Basically, he wanted her entire life. She would have to give up everything that was familiar to her, everything she had achieved so far. She couldn’t do that. She thought of the gilded prison her life had been before her father’s death. Receptions and protocols, never a moment allowed to let her guard down. Her family represented Valtria in a foreign land. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there’d been that…

  She didn’t even want to think about the political enemy her father had unwittingly made, the one who’d begun a nasty media war against them, not sparing any member of the family. And since her stepmother decided to run for local office after her father’s death, the spotlight had remained on them. Judi had grown up hating public life with a vengeance.

  If she stayed in Valtria and let the prince work his magic on her, if he kissed her a few more times…She had a feeling that if she didn’t leave right now, it’
d be all over save for the wedding bells.

  Best thing to do was to go with her screaming instinct of self-preservation.

  She had to get out of Valtria before she did something foolish like fall for the prince. She had to get out of the village before whoever had broken into the room upstairs came out and discovered her.

  The van’s driver was coming through the front door, a burly looking young man, although that could be just the down coat he wore against the cold. Judi wished she had something like that.

  She approached him carefully, ready to turn tail and run at the first indication of trouble, aware that he could be allied with the men who pursued them. “Hi, are you going back to Sacorata?”

  The young man’s handsome face split into a grin, innocent pleasure that could not be faked. “I should be. This is my only delivery up here. But I can stay if you wish,” he said with a slight accent and stepped closer, his gaze warm on her face, a playful glint in his eyes.

  “Actually, I was hoping for a ride.” She gave him a look that said pretty please. She was shivering inside. She should have grabbed a coat before she left the inn.

  His smile widened. “Are you visiting up here? Do you have any ski gear?” He glanced toward the inn. “I can help you bring it out. There’s not much room in the back, but we can probably squeeze your gear in.”

  She could hear voices from inside the entryway. Somebody would be coming out in a second. Could be the same men who were after her and the prince.

  “I could show you some of the best slopes in a couple of hours. I’m pretty good at skiing. I could even show you some slopes that are private.”

  God help her, the driver was actually flirting.

  She stepped to the cab and opened the door. “Just meeting up with some girlfriends in town for breakfast. I’ll tell you everything along the way.”

  Miklos was so going to kill her for doing this. He was going to be mad beyond belief. Probably not many women had ever run from the prince, especially not ones he had explicit plans for. He was going to be royally angry.

  Not that they needed to ever meet again.

  He would be busy saving Valtria, and she would be at a safe distance in D.C. Why didn’t the thought of that fill her with relief?

  “Early risers, eh?”

  “Want to hit the slopes as soon as they open.” She made up the story as she got in.

  She flattened herself against the back of the seat and turned her head toward the driver’s side to hide her profile form the men who were coming from the inn. The warmth of the cab felt great.

  Go, go, go.

  She didn’t dare turn to steal a peek at whoever was leaving the inn.

  “My name is Gunther,” the young man said as he slipped into his seat and slammed the door behind him.

  Miklos would be worried about her. She would try to get a message to him somehow from the airport. He’d mentioned that he had radio contact with a man named General Rossi. Maybe through him.

  “Judi. How long does it take to get to Sacorata from here?”

  “Two hours at least.”

  “Oh dear. I’d hate to be late.” She made an apologetic face. “Do you think we could hurry?”

  Twenty minutes of Gunther’s outrageous flirting later, they’d left the village behind and were swerving over the ice-covered roads. She hung on for dear life and regretted having said anything. Gunther was using speed and reckless driving to try to impress her.

  Which turned out not to be the biggest problem she faced, even if she’d been seriously beginning to fear loss of life or limb. An hour out of the village, she spotted a roadblock up ahead, armed men waiting, at least a half-dozen ominous dark figures in the moonlit landscape, big and menacing.

  “Stop!” She grabbed Gunther’s arm.

  But Gunther didn’t understand how much trouble they were in and didn’t slow the truck until it was too late. By then, the armed men had noticed them and were moving in for the kill.

  Chapter Six

  She’d been taken.

  Anger and concern about ripped him apart as Miklos paced the room, scanning it for clues, willing her to come walking back in, knowing he waited for that in vain. She wouldn’t have left without her gloves and at least a parka if she’d left on her own, willingly.

  She was out there, the captive of conscienceless bastards somewhere in the cold, barely dressed, when what she needed was warmth and rest.

  And him.

  She needed him by her side, damn it all.

  He cursed himself for leaving her. He’d thought he would be back before the doctor left. But the suspicious man in front of the inn had been gone by the time Miklos made his way down to the street, so he had to do a quick sweep of the village to find the guy. He did, a few streets down. By then the man had two other thugs with him. He followed them, then spent precious hours staking out the derelict cabin at the edge of town where they led him. Men coming and going was all he’d seen, watching and waiting all night, gaining little information beyond the obvious: the enemy was numerous and well armed with military-issue weapons.

  He’d gained nothing and lost Judi in the bargain. And could have lost Luigi, too. Miklos glanced at the man who was sitting in an old-fashioned armchair, rubbing the back of his head, stopping long enough to half sign, half say, “I’m sorry. I never saw them coming.”

  “Not your fault,” Miklos told him. “Do you need a doctor?” He nodded toward the bump above the man’s nape.

  Luigi shook his head.

  Where in hell was the rescue team he’d asked for? They should have been here long ago. Maybe something was going down that he didn’t know about, something that suddenly required the general’s full attention and temporarily diverted the chopper the man must have sent here.

  “General Rossi should have alerted the royal guard by now. The helicopter is on its way with at least a dozen men.” He’d also asked the general to dispatch a military unit to protect Maltmore Castle. They might be there already.

  “So the only vehicle that left the inn today went to Sacorata?” he asked again.

  Luigi nodded.

  “I’m going after her.” General Rossi was going to blow a fuse, but he would deal with the man later. “Thanks for the help. Take care of yourself,” he said as he reached for the small, handheld radio that Luigi had scared up for him.

  A snowmobile waited in the alley behind the inn, also courtesy of Luigi. Miklos drove south on the winding road, looking for any meaningful tracks. The sun was taking its time coming up, darkness lingering late this time of the year. But he could make out the tracks of vans, with snow chains on the tires, and snowmobiles that had crisscrossed the road.

  Judi could be anywhere by now.

  Miklos gripped the handlebars tight enough to break them. The dawn air was brisk, the cold nipping at his face, wind pushing against him. He was all alone in the vast landscape.

  Snow stretched for miles and miles, but farther south he could see green-capped hills. He floored the snowmobile, nearly wiping out a while later when he spotted a jumble of footprints and tried to stop too fast.

  A group of people had trampled the snowbank; vehicles had parked by the side of the road. Vehicles that hadn’t gone to Sacorata, but driven off on the top of the frozen snow toward the east instead. He was grateful for Luigi’s snowmobile that allowed him to easily follow the tracks.

  In the back of his mind, he was aware that this could be a trap. Whoever had taken Judi could have taken her specifically to draw him out. There had been no attempt made to cover their tracks. They might as well have drawn him a map.

  The smart thing would have been to wait for the general’s men. He radioed in his new position, and found the general had been waiting for him on the other end.

  “We’ve been trying to reach you. The chopper that was taking the royal guards to you had some technical problems and had to make an emergency landing. I’ve sent another with my own men. I apologize for the delay, Your Highness.” He
paused. “Chancellor Hansen has been placed under house arrest,” the general informed him.

  “He can’t have anything to do with this.” Denial sprang to his lips at once.

  He knew the chancellor too well to ever question his loyalties. They didn’t have time to go down the wrong path. Not now, not when so many lives were on the line, people who were so important to him.

  “He alone had been left behind when you and the future princess were taken. Unharmed.” The general emphasized the last word. “And we’ve discovered some communications.”

  Which were probably nothing, but the general tended to be overprotective of the royal family, particularly Miklos, who was like another son to him. Especially since the man didn’t always see eye to eye with his own son, who’d refused a military career. But with the other princes, too, he’d always been on friendly terms, always there to offer advice or support. In fact, at times the queen had wondered out loud if there didn’t exist a rivalry for the princes’ affection between the chancellor and the general.

  Maybe the rivalry between them had prejudiced them against each other.

  “It couldn’t be Chancellor Hansen,” Miklos insisted, keeping his eyes on where he was going. He couldn’t afford to drive into a ditch and flip the snowmobile over.

  “He’s been maintaining contact with the top man of the Freedom Council over the last three months,” the general said gravely.

  That had the power of turning Miklos’s blood a few degrees colder. They didn’t even know the identities of the three men who led the Council, other than that they were powerful businessmen. Funding for the Council was never in short supply.

  A sharp sense of betrayal cut through him and stole the breath from his lungs. The chancellor had been like a surrogate father to the princes.

  “Just hold him. Don’t do anything else until I get there,” he told the man who outranked him in the army but owed his fealty to him as prince. “The Queen?”