Royal Target

by Susan Kearney

Sophia brushed the sand from her skirts. “First, let me put Pavel in the harness.”

  “I can hold him,” Ericka offered.

  “I appreciate the offer, but unless he’s with his brothers he won’t be happy,” Nicholas told her and turned to Sophia. “Hand him over.”

  While Natalie looked on, Sophia handed him the baby, but spoke to Ericka. “At first, I was reluctant to place more than one child at a time in his charge, but the boys insist on staying together.”

  Nicholas spoke wryly, “So far I’ve always brought them back in one piece.”

  “See that you continue to do so,” Sophia affectionately admonished.

  Natalie waved goodbye. “Have a good ride.” Sophia, Natalie and Larissa roamed over the beach toward the house and some shade.

  Nicholas attached the harness to his chest, Pavel faced outward and looked around, his bright brown eyes wide with interest at the view from atop the horse. Ericka seemed quite interested in the arrangements. He could almost see her mind writing about the king who played baby-sitter. He supposed he wasn’t giving her a very regal picture of his life.

  “Got more than you can handle?” she asked him.

  “We do this all the time.”

  “Then why are you frowning?”

  “I’m afraid that if you write about them,” he gestured to the children, “my enemies might believe the children are a weakness they could exploit.”

  Ericka rode up next to him, her attention on the baby. “He might be tiny, but he knows exactly what he wants.”

  Again she hadn’t responded to his probe into the contents of her article, but he couldn’t dwell on that for long. Not with the responsibility for three children in his charge.

  Nicholas was happy to carry them on a ride and to hold the little guy. He liked cuddling the baby—but he would admit his weakness to no one—although he suspected the gentle Sophia had known his secret ever since she’d caught him rocking the baby to sleep and singing him a lullaby. If Alexander or Tashya knew, they’d tease him mercilessly, and he couldn’t help wondering what Ericka would think.

  Recalling his earlier conversation with Alexander, Nicholas cleared his throat, determined to tell Ericka about his past before the gossip at court reached her ears.

  Still he hesitated, unsure how to bring up the uncomfortable subject. “There’s something you should know.”

  She must have heard his tone change because she stopped her mount, her beautiful eyes curious. “Yes?”

  The kids were busy discussing the boats and paying no attention to the adult conversation so he felt free to speak. “Larissa and I… Many years ago…”

  “Were lovers?”

  “She wished it had been so.”

  “And you didn’t wish it?”

  “She…how do you Americans say…was too intense for me.”

  “I see.”

  Did she? Nicholas could read the unspoken questions in her eyes, but saw no need to explain further. His past was not her concern—not even if she became his wife.

  “Can we go fast?” Dimitri asked and Nicholas was grateful for the interruption.

  “Horse go swimming,” Nikita demanded.

  Pavel contentedly sucked his thumb, and Nicholas wished all problems could be solved so easily as keeping his little brothers happy. Again he glanced at Ericka, but had no idea what she was thinking. He knew so little about this woman that he was contemplating spending the rest of his life with and regretted that he hadn’t made an effort to get to know her sooner. After the incident in the park he supposed he should count himself lucky that she hadn’t marched back onto the plane and left his country and him without a backward look. However, he would just have to make up for the limitations and lost time by being more direct than usual. “Do you want children?”

  “Someday.”

  “What about your career?”

  “Haven’t you heard? This is the new millennium. Women now have children and careers.”

  “Yours requires lots of travel.” He gave her another glance, admiring the way she sat tall in the saddle. Her expression and easy answers told him she was comfortable with his personal questions, revealing that she’d obviously considered these issues, and had likely made some plans, too.

  “When the time comes, I can ask for a permanent assignment to D.C.”

  “You’ve given this some thought.” Although she’d told him she didn’t have a husband, he was beginning to wonder if she had someone specific in mind. “Anyone special at home?”

  She suddenly tensed and answered him way too casually for him not to realize she’d raised her defenses. “Not at the moment.”

  She might be wary, but relief washed over him. He could discount the possibility of having competition from a lover she’d left at home. It was difficult enough that he wanted her to marry him and give up her country and her job, but if another man was in her thoughts, his task would be impossible.

  All he needed was for her to fall for him in a week. He supposed stranger things had happened. His father had tumbled instantly in love with his mother the first time they’d met. Nicholas frowned. Perhaps that wasn’t a solid example.

  “Now, why are you frowning? Were you hoping I was in love with someone?” she asked with keen perception.

  “Actually, I was recalling how my father told me that he fell instantly in love with my mother.” The boys sat happily and quietly on the horse, the baby content to dangle from the harness strapped to Nicholas’ chest. The silent peacefulness wouldn’t last, but for now his little brothers were content to simply gaze at the sail-and powerboats cruising, one pulling a water-skier, over the calm blue sea.

  Ericka leaned over and straightened Dimitri’s hat, so the sun didn’t shine in his eyes. “They had a good marriage?”

  “My father thought so.”

  “You didn’t?” Ericka elevated a brow.

  “My mother abandoned him during the revolution. She snatched us kids and fled in the middle of the night.”

  “Lots of people fled.”

  “She died from sniper fire, trying to cross the border.”

  His voice must have hinted at his feelings because she asked, “You consider her action a betrayal?”

  “Her loyalty was misplaced. She should have stayed with my father.”

  Ericka regarded him curiously as if trying to understand his perspective. “Your mother probably feared for her children’s lives.”

  “By fleeing she put us all in danger.”

  “In retrospect, you’re right. But at the time, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t have done the same.”

  Damn. He’d almost thought her perfect. So why did she have to go and agree with the actions of a mother he still considered a traitor? Perhaps she didn’t understand, and he sought to fill in the painful details as objectively as possible. “My father begged her to stay. He feared that his people would take her leaving as a sign that his revolution was failing. It’s the only time I can recall them arguing. She agreed to do as he asked, but when he rode off into battle, she sneaked away and carried us with her.”

  “You’ve never forgiven her, have you?”

  He didn’t respond since he didn’t want her to write his answer in her article. “She made my father’s job more difficult. When word got out that she’d fled, our enemies strengthened their resolve and the fighting escalated. It’s impossible to estimate how many people died due to her cowardice.”

  “That’s a little harsh.”

  “You sound like Tashya. I just wonder…”

  “What?”

  “If she would have fled if Vashmira had been her native country.” The moment the words came out of his mouth, he wanted to recall them. He wasn’t usually so careless around reporters, but for some reason he found Ericka easy to talk to and he very much wanted her to understand. But he may have insulted the woman. Ericka was also a foreigner.

  “Nicholas.”

  “Yeah?”

  He expected her to be somewhat upset wit
h him, tell him he was wrong.

  “Nikita is going to swallow those reins if you don’t pull them out of his mouth.”

  “Good,” Nikita said through a mouthful of leather.

  Nicholas couldn’t have been more thankful for his little brother’s distraction. “He’s teething, but he won’t hurt the leather.”

  “It’s not the leather I’m concerned about. How sanitary can horse reins be?”

  He patted Nikita’s head fondly. “I used to do the same thing.”

  She shook her head, her tone light. “Oh, well then, since you used to do it, it must be fine.”

  “Are you mocking me, woman?”

  Before she could answer, Dimitri pointed at the water between a patrol boat and a pleasure craft. “Can we swim the horse?”

  “Not today. In fact, it’s time we turned back.” Nicholas used his knees to guide his mount since Nikita had the reins in his mouth. “They love riding, but sitting still for more than twenty minutes is difficult for them.”

  “Okay.” The moment she turned her horse, her mare started to prance. She held the animal in but clearly the horse longed to run.

  “Go ahead,” Nicholas told her. “I’ll meet you in a few minutes.” He nodded to a security guard to follow her and looked forward to watching her handle the horse. He had no doubts she would make the animal obey her commands.

  “Boat,” Nikita said.

  Nicholas kept his gaze on Ericka. “Yes, there are lots of boats.”

  Ericka eased up on her reins, all the encouragement her horse required to break into a canter. In total control, she moved with the animal as if she’d been born in the saddle. Wind whipped her hair, and he wished he could see more of her than her straight back and firm derriere, although watching her bottom nestle into the saddle reminded him how good it had felt against his lap.

  “Boat,” Nikita said, again.

  Nicholas had always appreciated the sight of a skilled woman rider on a horse. And Ericka now provoked wonderful images. He imagined her eyes lit with excitement, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

  Dimitri tugged on his sleeve. “Boat.”

  This time, Nicholas realized that a speedboat was heading in toward the beach. The pleasure craft had crossed the path of the warning buoys that cautioned boaters not to approach the shoreline or trespass. The palace boat’s engines roared into life and the armed security detail turned on the siren, chasing the pleasure craft.

  The driver ignored the warning.

  Nicholas’ guards fanned out, positioning themselves between him and the boat. Nicholas didn’t like his and his brothers’ vulnerable position on the beach. With one child in front of him on the saddle and another behind and the baby strapped to his chest, Nicholas didn’t dare break into a trot.

  Heading inland wasn’t an option—not with the hotels on this end of the beach and innocent people sunbathing.

  At the siren’s alarm, Alexander had leapt into his saddle, but he remained too far away to reach Nicholas and the children before the boat beached itself—even at a wild gallop. Tashya was even farther away but that didn’t stop her from trying to ride closer either. However, Larissa had taken one look at the danger and ridden for the stables.

  Surely the driver would heed the palace security boat and turn back soon. His security guards on shore had drawn their weapons, stationing themselves between the oncoming boat and their king. The driver didn’t so much as flinch a muscle or turn his head but kept driving at full speed. Fear for the children bit at his spine as he guessed that the driver intended to use the boat as a missile.

  His men opened fire on the driver, their shots shattering the glass windshield and chipping the hull. But the boat raced forward at full speed.

  Ericka glanced toward the oncoming boat and suddenly she changed direction. Wheeling her horse around, she galloped back to him, her face set with determination, her eyes wide with worry. Within seconds, she’d reached him and had drawn her horse to a halt, spraying sand.

  “Give me Nikita,” she demanded, her voice calm but authoritative.

  Nicholas hoped the boat would stop or sink in the hailstorm of bullets. But the boat just kept charging. At full throttle, it would ram way up onto the shore. But where? How far up would the boat beach itself?

  After seeing Ericka handle her mount, Nicholas had no qualms about handing a child over to her. Placing Nikita before her in the saddle, she clamped one arm around his little waist. Nicholas swung Dimitri around to his hip where he could support him with one arm, used his other arm to hold the baby’s head protectively against his chest, thankful his horse would follow knee commands.

  He exhorted his horse into a gentle canter after Ericka, automatically calculating the angles and speed needed to avoid the boat zooming inland. Whichever way he rode, the boat seemed erratically to change angles and follow. It had to be an optical illusion because the driver had gone down.

  Nicholas’ horse gained on Ericka’s mare, the stallion’s long stride eating up the distance between them.

  The boat accelerated and seemingly changed direction again, cutting them off from palace security, Alexander and Tashya.

  Something niggled in the back of Nicholas’ mind, the scent of gasoline, the danger of it igniting. Something about the relentlessly pursuing boat with no driver made his perceptions more acute. With the baby strapped to his chest and Dimitri in his arms, he leapt off his horse, deliberately colliding with Ericka and Nikita. All five of them tumbled to the ground. The horses, free of their riders, galloped straight back to the stable and safety.

  Somehow he managed to land on his back, cradling Dimitri and the baby. He turned his head toward Ericka and Nikita. “Stay down,” he yelled.

  Nicholas hugged the babies tight to him.

  Landfall barely slowed the boat’s fury. The engine thundered, chips of paint flew from the hull, the propellers spitting sand, the boat’s speed deadly.

  His brothers! Nicholas held them close, knowing he could do no more to protect them and Ericka.

  Eyes narrowed against the stinging sand, heart pounding with the futility of their efforts to escape, adrenaline coursing hotly through his blood, he watched the boat veer straight toward them like a heat-seeking missile to its target.

  Chapter Six

  Although Ericka hadn’t expected Nicholas to knock her from her horse, years of riding had her automatically kicking her feet free of the stirrups and tumbling sideways to avoid flailing hooves. She smacked into the beach with enough force to knock the wind from her chest. She’d twisted in the air and avoided squashing Nikita.

  She cuddled the boy in the crook of her arm, tugging him closer to her side in an attempt to protect him from danger. The boat had finally ground to a stop about fifty yards away. She was about to shove to her feet when Nicholas’ arm pressed her flat.

  Before she could ask what the hell he was doing, an explosion rocked the beach, lifting up their bodies, then bouncing them into the ground, showering them with sand and fiberglass pieces from the boat’s blackened hull. Her ears rang from the blast, and her lungs burned from the heat, the detonation seeming to suck the oxygen from her lungs.

  “Hot,” Nikita complained and started to cry.

  At least he was alive and well enough to complain. Ericka sat up slowly, her gaze going first to the little boy. He had a scrape on one cheek, and she ran her hands over his limbs to reassure herself he was still in one piece. He appeared just fine, but she was no doctor and hoped he hadn’t suffered internal injuries. However, from the way he squirmed, she figured he couldn’t be too badly hurt. “You okay?”

  “I want my mother.”

  “We’ll find her soon, sweetie. Let’s check your brothers, first, all right?”

  There was little left of the boat except a smoking, foul-smelling hulk. Ira Hanuck, the chief of security, issued orders, and palace guards obeyed, hurrying toward them, but Ericka reached Nicholas first. He huddled over the baby, his weight on his elbows and knees. She c
ould barely see Dimitri or the baby since Nicholas had shielded the children from the blast, covering them with his broad chest.

  While Nicholas hadn’t moved, Dimitri was crawling out from under his uncle and staggering to his feet. The five-year-old’s eyes, wide with curiosity and fear, took in the carnage around them with a quivering lower lip.

  “What happened?” he demanded, his voice childlike, but his eyes narrowed, revealing the soul of someone wise beyond his years.

  “Boat!” Nikita pointed.

  Ericka gently rolled Nicholas over. The baby, still strapped to his chest in the carrier, didn’t move. His tiny eyes were closed, his cheeks pale, and she reached out to unzip him. In a flash, the baby let out a piercing wail that made her jerk back with surprise that one so small could make so much noise.

  Relief zinged through her. She’d never been so happy to hear a baby’s cry in her life. She snagged him from the carrier and handed him to the first security guard who arrived. The baby promptly placed his thumb in his mouth but kept crying.

  Kneeling, she frowned with worry over Nicholas sprawled in the sand. If he hadn’t pulled them down before the blast, it was likely they would all be dead. Even unconscious, he’d protected the little ones, landing curled around his brothers. She realized she owed him her life, too. She only hoped she’d have the opportunity to thank him. His swarthy skin looked pale and blood trickled from under his hairline. If he breathed at all, she couldn’t tell.

  A dead man couldn’t bleed, could he? Damn him! He was too young to die, too vital a man to have his life cut short. During the time she’d spent with Nicholas, she’d come to respect him. He genuinely cared for his people, loved his country, adored his brothers. And he’d touched the feminine part of her that she had rarely acknowledged.

  She spoke softly to the palace guard, trying to conceal her worry for the children’s sake. “I think the baby’s okay, but Nicholas hasn’t moved.”

  As if to prove her wrong, Nicholas’ chest heaved, and he groaned. He opened one eye and stared at her. “I was hoping for some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”