A Princess in Maine

by Jen McLaughlin

  “Paul delivered the flowers safely,” Jeremy said.

  Grace sagged against Prince Phillip, but the worry lines creasing her forehead didn’t ease. “Thank God.”

  “And now?” I asked.

  “He’s on his way here,” Jeremy said.

  “Excellent. How will we ensure this doesn’t happen again?” Phillip leaned forward on his knees, frowning. “I do not want the thief to strike a third time.”

  “We have a guy guarding the florist. And all the shops we’re using for this wedding now have security on them,” Jeremy said, surprising even me. He’d told me he had someone watching over the flowers, and that we now had guys patrolling the grounds around the inn to make sure that no one got to Grace again—using peanuts as a weapon—but I hadn’t realized he was extending protection to all our vendors. “No one else will interfere with this wedding. Chelsea will handle all the logistics of planning and meetings, and I’ve got the security. Everything will go smoothly from now on.”

  Grace teared up, nodding, and glanced at Phillip before offering Jeremy a wobbly smile. “Thank you.”

  “Yes.” Phillip eyed his bride-to-be with a soft smile, gently touching her cheek. “Thank you. This has to be perfect for Grace. She deserves only the best things in life.”

  Watching them like this, seeing how perfectly matched they were, made me want to freeze this moment and live in it forever. They were happy together. Jeremy and I were happy together. Heck, even Paul was working at our inn now. All these good things reminded me that even though life was a little scary right now, I was very lucky to have the people I loved around me.

  I glanced at Jeremy to see if he was as moved by the moment as I was, but he was staring at the TV with a frown. The news was on. He always got worked up when he saw bad things happening that he couldn’t fix.

  “I already have the best,” Grace said, sniffling and placing her hand on his knee. “I have you.”

  Phillip shook his head. “I’m not good enough—”

  “Prince Phillip…sir?” Joseph said, entering the room with fast, jerky steps. His brows were close together as he stared at his phone. When Phillip turned his way, he hastily bowed. “I am sorry to interrupt, but…we have a problem.”

  My heart, which had been warm and fuzzy seconds before as I watched the happy couple, wrenched. “What is it?” I asked.

  “Someone,” Jeremy said, gesturing to the TV behind Joseph and turning up the volume, “leaked the news to the press.”

  We all looked at the TV.

  A picture of Grace and Prince Phillip dressed in formal wear was plastered on the screen with the words A PRINCESS IN MAINE? underneath it. The blond newscaster with bright-pink lipstick started talking after the music stopped playing. “Word is, there’s going to be a royal wedding. Prince Phillip of Talius, a tiny country best known as the hidden jewel of Europe, fell in love with an American just months ago, and they’re planning their wedding here in America. This will be the first royal wedding to take place in America, so it’s quite a historic event. Our sources are narrowing down the location, but word is the secret wedding will be happening in a coastal town in Maine.”

  I gripped my knees, my heart pounding against my ribs. “No.”

  “Who did this?” Prince Phillip asked, his tone harder than I’d ever heard it before.

  My phone rang, and it snapped me out of my trance. “It wasn’t us. I swear.”

  “We know—” Grace started to say, reaching for my hand, but she got cut off when Phillip caught it instead, and tugged her to her feet. “Phillip, what—?”

  “We need to go back to Talius. They know,” he said, his tone unforgiving. “The wedding is off.”

  Chapter 23

  “That’s not necessary,” Jeremy said, standing up and shooting me a look as I just sat there, not speaking, not moving, not even blinking, because I couldn’t believe this had all been for nothing. “Chelsea has been working hard to get everything in line for Saturday, and you’re not going to be able to pull this off in time if you leave now. You’ll have to start all over again.”

  “Phillip—” Grace started, wringing her hands.

  “I am aware of this,” Phillip said, pulling Grace to his side, cutting her off. “I told you from the beginning that this needed to be secret. Now, all of America knows”—he gestured angrily toward the news, which had switched to the latest celebrity gossip—“and soon, they will find out the location of this inn. There is no reason to stay here for a secret wedding that is not a secret any longer.”

  “They won’t find us,” Jeremy said. “This is unfortunate news, sure, but I’ve got five men guarding the inn at all times. Guys who were, or are, DEA. No one in the press will get past my guys—and no one looking to hurt Grace will, either. Chelsea and I have tightened security to make sure nothing would get to her again. She’s perfectly safe here.”

  Joseph frowned, glancing out the window. “When did you hire security, and why wasn’t I informed?”

  “I told Michelle,” Jeremy said dismissively. “I assumed she told you.”

  “She did not,” Joseph said stiffly. “Michelle?”

  Michelle was nowhere to be seen.

  Where had she gone?

  “Grace cannot stay here,” Phillip said. “It is not safe, no matter how many men are out there. Grace, we leave. Now.”

  “I agree, sir,” Joseph said, turning his back on Jeremy. “We should postpone the wedding, and have a more traditional one back home. Why the rush? Let’s take our time.”

  “We cannot take our time,” Phillip said. “But we will not be having a wedding in Maine.”

  I stood and walked over to Grace, who looked about three seconds from crying, screaming, or both. Everyone around her was fighting, and she looked like she was trying not to lose it. None of this could be healthy for the baby. “Grace? Deep breaths.”

  She looked at me, and nodded, following my advice. Behind us, Jeremy and Phillip argued, while Joseph interjected periodically with his opinion.

  “Again,” I said, forcing a calm smile even though everything around us was insane, “think about the baby, and what he or she needs. Nice, smooth, relaxing breaths.”

  She took another breath. “How did they find out about us?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But I’m going to find out. What’s really important here is this: What do you want to do about it? Whatever you choose, I have your back. Stay. Go. Get married. Wait. Whatever you want, I’ll help you get it.”

  “I…” Grace said, pressing a hand to her stomach.

  Phillip came over. “Come, love. Joseph is right. It is time to go home. We will figure out what to do once you’re safe in the castle. Maybe we will rent an island in the Caribbean. You like it there, correct?”

  “Rent an…? No. I don’t want to go,” Grace said, with a quiet strength that radiated off her. “I’m not going.”

  “Excuse me?” he said, looking taken aback. “We have to leave. It is not safe anymore.”

  “Going home to Talius is no safer,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’m staying here, at the McCullagh Inn, and we are getting married as planned.”

  It was silent for all of two seconds, and then Phillip burst out with a spate of French that I didn’t understand.

  Grace planted her hands on her hips and responded in the same language.

  Joseph watched the argument, frowning.

  Jeremy and I looked at one another. He came over, his phone in his hand, and texted rapidly, his forehead furrowed in concentration. When he met my gaze, I lifted my brows, and he leaned down and whispered, “I know these other guys from a local security firm I trust. I have a feeling Phillip’s about to find out that life is a hell of a lot better if you give your bride what she wants, so I think we’re going to need them.”

  I bit my lip.

  As much as I wanted to see this wedding through, maybe it was best for Grace if they went back to Talius and had it there, with more royal
guards surrounding her. “What about the Sullivans? What if they figure out we’re the inn that’s hosting the royal wedding…Hell, they might have even figured it out already.”

  “Then my guys will stop them, too.” He lifted a shoulder. “Bad guys are bad guys. My security team can handle it, whether it’s local crime families, royal assassins…or the paparazzi.”

  The rapid-fire French stopped, and Phillip covered his face, let out a few more words that I was pretty sure were French curses, and then turned to us.

  Grace crossed her arms, looking agitated, and tapped her foot.

  Prince Phillip offered us a tight smile. “It appears we are staying at the inn for the wedding.”

  Joseph fisted his hands, but remained silent.

  “Additional men are on the way. We will keep you both safe from any harm,” Jeremy said.

  Phillip tilted his head. “Thank you. We will, of course, cover all costs. I will pay whatever is needed to keep my bride safe.”

  “You won’t regret this,” Jeremy said, shaking Phillip’s hand. “Your wedding is going to be a success. We’ll make sure of it.”

  The thing was…

  I wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter 24

  Jeremy walked up the porch stairs, taking them two steps at a time, as he glanced at his watch. He’d just finished checking on the men outside. Everyone was alert and in position. There were only three days until the wedding, and Jeremy was going to make sure nothing happened that would stop Grace and Phillip from saying I do. He was also going to make sure his own bride was safe from harm.

  In fact, he wished he could keep a few of these guys on full-time as security for the inn.

  Chelsea needed that.

  He used to think he was capable of keeping her safe on his own, but lately, he wasn’t so sure. When you constantly had people coming at you from all sides, it was hard to know whether you had everything covered. What if a threat slipped through the cracks?

  “Everything good?” Paul asked from one of the rocking chairs on the porch.

  “Yeah.” Jeremy sat on the chair beside him, sighing. There was a slight breeze today, so it wasn’t too bad out. “I’ve had about enough of this bullshit, though.”

  “I hear ya.” Paul glanced at him. Chelsea was out picking up Grace’s wedding dress while Grace napped, and Prince Phillip was inside somewhere, maybe still sleeping, too. It was nice to be able to speak to his brother-in-law freely. “Do we need to come up with a game plan to take the Sullivans down?”

  “We don’t even know if it’s them.” Jeremy reclined against the back of the chair and rocked slowly, matching Paul’s rhythm, trying to clear his mind so he could focus. “Could be anyone, really. The Taliusians. The Sullivans. The cartel. Who knows—?”

  “It’s not the cartel,” a voice said from the left.

  Jeremy jumped to his feet, his chest tightening. How had someone slipped through all their security? “Johnny?”

  “Dad?” Paul said, also standing. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you.”

  Johnny O’Kane looked tanned, skinnier, and way too damn proud of himself to be up to anything good. “I was in Florida, poking around, doing what I do best. You know, keeping my family safe.”

  “Funny.” Jeremy crossed his arms, clenching his jaw. “I specifically remember your parole officer telling you not to leave the state.”

  “Did he? I must’ve missed that part,” Johnny said, waving a hand dismissively. “Where’s my girl? I want to tell her the good news.”

  “Out.” Jeremy walked to the side of the porch and leaned against the railing. “You can’t be here right now, so tell me the news, then leave. I’ll pass it along.”

  “I talked to a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy.” Johnny shrugged, crossing his arms and smirking cockily. He looked so much like Paul and Chelsea in that moment that it was scary. “Suffice it to say, the cartel has no beef with Chelsea. New management considers her untouchable, and they have no intentions of going after her.”

  Paul grinned. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “We will. Anyway, why can’t I be here?” Johnny asked, frowning at Jeremy. “What’s with the feds crawling all over the place?”

  Jeremy was relieved at this intel about the cartel, but Johnny O’Kane had to leave. “Excellent questions,” Jeremy said, smiling with his teeth. “Call Chelsea later to ask about them. She’ll explain everything.”

  He wasn’t about to try.

  Best to let Chelsea handle her con-artist father.

  Johnny O’Kane didn’t budge. “But—”

  “Dad?” Paul interrupted. “Trust us. For her sake, and yours, you need to go.”

  He looked like he was going to object, but then he shook his head, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and stepped back. “Fine. Whatever. But make sure she answers the phone.”

  As he walked away, Paul nudged him with his elbow. “Well, looks like we’re back down to the Sullivans or the Taliusians.”

  “I feel so much better,” Jeremy said, sarcastically.

  “Wait up, Dad, I’ll walk you out,” Paul said, heading off after his father.

  Jeremy pushed away from the railing and headed for the stairs, telling himself he needed a new perspective to figure this shit out. As he trod on the porch step that creaked, he gritted his teeth. Goddamnit, was he ever going to have time to fix that?

  Right now, he needed to focus on what was going on in his inn, whatever was putting his wife at risk. If he didn’t start thinking like a DEA agent instead of a husband…he’d never solve the case.

  Stop. Breathe. Think.

  Review the facts of the case.

  The Sullivans had a beef with them, sure. They were watching them closely, sure. But as far as he knew, they had nothing to gain by hurting them. Plus, why piss off a person who was blackmailing them? Would they take the risk that Chelsea would expose them? Or would they simply kill her to eliminate the risk altogether? As much as he didn’t like that thought, it made more sense than stealing cameras and ruining flowers.

  In order to make a quick buck, the Sullivans had stooped to petty sabotage before. And this time, there was a bigger pot at hand.

  But if they harmed Chelsea, what guarantee did they have that he, or Paul, or Johnny, wouldn’t release the blackmail? It still felt too risky for the Sullivans.

  Which brought him to…

  Taliusians.

  Could someone actually be trying to kill the future princess? At their tiny inn?

  Yet security was so tight right now, it didn’t seem likely that some random assassin could be coming after them. Johnny O’Kane was a career criminal, a professional, who could probably accomplish a hold-up at a police convention. As much as he hated it, it made sense that Johnny could get through the security. But his guys were the best, and no bad guys were just gonna waltz in here. So it had to be someone close to them, who knew the inner workings of the wedding schedule.

  Jeremy gripped the railing, thinking back to last night when Phillip wanted to leave, and how concerned Joseph had been for Grace’s safety. It wasn’t until Jeremy mentioned the extra guards he’d hired that Joseph backed off.

  Joseph hadn’t known about them, even though Jeremy made sure to tell Michelle. But why wouldn’t Michelle have told Joseph this important news? Unless…

  He lifted his head and said: “I know who it is.”

  Chapter 25

  Jeremy sprinted up the stairs to the second floor, unlocking his phone so he could text Chelsea and let her know his suspicions. Michelle was with her now, and if he was right? If Michelle was the one behind all these attacks? Chelsea needed to be smart.

  He couldn’t believe it had taken him so damn long to figure this out. Michelle probably hadn’t mentioned the guards to Joseph because she’d been too busy coming up with a new plan before time ran out.

  Well, time was almost out, and she was bound to make a move.

  As Jeremy rounded
the corner, he saw Joseph standing outside Grace’s door, which was cracked open. Jeremy glanced at the knob. There was something sticking out of the lock. Something he recognized all too well, thanks to his life with Chelsea and Paul. That pick was bad enough, but the fact that Joseph quickly hid a knife behind his back put the icing on the damn cake.

  Did Joseph seriously think Jeremy hadn’t noticed the giant butcher knife in his hand?

  Jeremy stopped walking, letting his phone fall to his side, and forced a calm smile. If Joseph was desperate enough to try to hide a deadly weapon behind his back, then maybe he was desperate enough to fall for the old I didn’t see what you’re hiding trick, too. “There you are. I was looking for you.”

  Joseph stepped in front of the knob, tugging on his red tie with his free hand. “Yes? What is it?”

  Still smiling, Jeremy took a step toward him, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. “What are you up to?”

  “I was checking to see if Miss Grace was awake yet. She’s not.” Joseph smiled and pulled the door shut with his other hand, letting it click. “What did you need?”

  Jeremy shrugged, his peripheral vision still on Joseph’s hand, which was inching closer to his waist. Shit. “Could you come downstairs with me? I need help moving the couch out of the way for the banquet table, and it’s a bear to do on my own.”

  “Sure, I’ll be right down.”

  Jeremy stood there, not leaving like Joseph had probably hoped he would. “We need you now.”

  “Yeah. I don’t think so.” Joseph’s cheeks flushed, and he shifted on his feet, clearly giving up all pretenses. He’d been had, and he knew it. Holding the knife out, he positioned himself for a fight. “I’m going to stay right here, and you’re going to walk away before I have to hurt you, too.”

  Jeremy held a hand out. “Joseph—”

  “This is your last warning. Walk away and pretend this never happened.”