"Who the hell is this man?"
"It is safer for him and for you if I tell you no more."
Matt nodded, but decided then and there to contact some old friends in the military later that day to see if they could find out anything about some mysterious man who had ties to all the militant organizations in the world. When he'd been in the air force, he'd heard a name whispered within the inner circles, but even the top brass didn't seem to know the man's true identity. Matt wondered if Theo's acquaintance and the man he'd heard about might be the same man. El-Hawah. Arabic for the wind. A man as elusive, unpredictable and unstoppable as the wind itself. El-Hawah was a legend. Some believed he didn't exist, that he was a fictitious character created by the overzealous imaginations of undercover agents worldwide. The famous El-Hawah had made numerous enemies over the years but had somehow managed to escape death or capture time and again. And no two descriptions of the man seemed to match.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Matt put in a call to an old air force buddy and asked him to call in some favors and do some checking on this mysterious El-Hawah and see if there might be any connection between the man and Theo Constantine. And after King Leopold's sixth call to Adele, Matt decided if the princess wouldn't talk to her father, maybe he should. He assured the king that Adele was recovering from her stomach flu, but she wouldn't feel like traveling for a few more days. Thankfully, His Majesty bought the lie and seemed genuinely concerned about his daughter's health.
Although the three local bodyguards that Theo had hired conducted themselves professionally and appeared to be well trained, Matt kept a close eye on Princess Adele. She seemed to be totally oblivious to his presence, a habit she no doubt had perfected from years of being watched by the palace guards. Her Highness had spent the entire day with Dia Constantine, who was constantly aware of his intrusive presence. He'd caught Theo's wife eyeing him skeptically from time to time, as if she weren't quite certain about him. Did the woman distrust him? Or was there some other reason for her close scrutiny?
The two women had joined Phila and her nanny outside on the top balcony where they all took turns reading aloud from the latest Harry Potter book. Playacting the parts of the characters, the foursome entertained themselves for over an hour. During that time, Matt studied each one in turn. He could see why Theo had chosen Dia to be his wife. Her exotic beauty and gentle nature would be enough to attract any man. Young Phila was her mother's daughter—a rare beauty in the making. Someday she would undoubtedly have suitors lined up outside the villa. Faith Sheridan puzzled Matt. He suspected that beneath the loose-fitting white blouse and tan skirt lay a rather nice figure. And behind a pair of dark-framed glasses were a pair of large, expressive blue-gray eyes. He rather liked Faith, the shy, soft-spoken nanny who seemed quite content with her life as a servant in the Constantine household. And that's what puzzled him. Why would someone that young, with the potential to be quite attractive, choose to be a nanny? Of course, the woman's personal life was none of his business.
But Adele Reynard's personal life was his business. First her father and then she had put him in a position where he had no choice but to become embroiled in every aspect of the princess's life. The sane and sensible part of his nature reminded him that this was an assignment, not unlike others he had taken on over the past few years. Guard a client. Protect her from any and all harm. Simple enough. Yeah, except when he let his emotions get involved. He'd already broken the cardinal rule of maintaining an impersonal and professional attitude toward the client at all times. When he looked at the lady, he didn't see Her Highness, he saw a desirable woman.
So, get over it, he told himself. No way would she ever think of him as anything other than her bodyguard. He was nothing more to her than a useful tool in her quest to safeguard her throne and her country from the royalists. And even if she were interested in him—which she wasn't—having an affair with a princess might prove to be more trouble than it was worth.
When Phila's nanny reminded her it was time for her art class, Dia went inside with them, leaving Adele and Matt alone on the balcony. Adele rose from her chair, turned and gazed out at the sea below the tiered balconies. Matt walked over to stand beside her.
"Have you ever been married?'' Adele asked.
"Huh?" Her question surprised him. "Married? Me? No."
"And you aren't engaged or in a committed relationship?"
Matt shook his head. "Why the personal questions?" "Just curious."
"My life's pretty much an open book," Matt said. "No secrets. No hidden agenda. No conspiracies. Dull stuff compared to your life."
"I suspect you're making fun of me."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"I'm not offended. You're right to feel as you do. After all, what would a commoner, an American commoner, know about life at the Erembourg court? My way of life may seem superficial and superfluous to you. You probably think of a monarchy as an outdated way to govern a country. But I was raised from birth to put the needs of Orlantha before my own needs, to consider the people's rights before my own, to dedicate my life to serving my country and her people."
"In theory it sounds noble," Matt admitted. "So, are you telling me that if old mule face wasn't a suspected member of the Royalist, you'd marry him?"
Without hesitation Adele replied, "If marrying Dedrick was what was best for Orlantha, yes, I would marry him tomorrow."
"What about love?"
"What about it?"
"You'd marry Dedrick and spend the rest of your life with him even though you don't love him?"
"If he were a good man, I would probably learn to love him, in time."
Shaking his head, Matt chuckled. "You royal folks sure do things differently from us regular guys. I'd hate to marry somebody I didn't love and who didn't love me. Marriage is difficult enough as it is without going into it lacking the most important ingredient."
"Since you've never been married, what makes you such an expert on the subject?''
"I didn't say I was an expert. I just said I wouldn't want to marry somebody unless the lady and I were in love."
"Tell me exactly, what is love?"
Thinking she had to be kidding him, Matt was surprised to find, when he looked directly at her, that Adele appeared to be completely serious.
"I'm not sure exactly" he admitted.
"Haven't you ever been in love?"
"Sure I have, but. . .well, it was a long time ago. I was just a green kid. And she was just a kid, too."
"So, what happened? What was it like being in love? And if you loved this woman, why didn't you marry her?"
He could see now that he'd opened a can of worms when he'd brought up the subject of marrying for love. He hadn't ever told anyone about Valerie Ralston. Only Aunt Velma had suspected the truth. And to be honest he hadn't thought much about his "true love" in years. Maybe the old adage about time healing all wounds was right. He could think about Valerie now without that painful ache in his gut. But the sense of rejection remained a part of him as much today as then.
"You want the truth?" Matt asked.
Adele nodded.
"My aunt Velma was a domestic servant. . .you know, a housekeeper, a maid. We lived in Louisville, Kentucky, and she worked for several different families over the years. She was working for the Ralston family when I was seventeen. The Ralstons had a daughter. Valerie."
Adele focused her attention on Matt, watching him intently. "Let me guess—the two of you fell in love, but her father forbade her to marry beneath her. But, goodness, Matt, if you were only seventeen—"
"Her parents wouldn't even let her date me, so we sneaked around for over a year, until she was eighteen. That's when I asked her to marry me."
"And she said no?"
"Not only did she say no, she told me that she couldn't believe that I'd thought she would even consider marrying me. Didn't I know that when she married, she'd marry someone in her social c
ircle, someone at least as rich as her daddy."
"But she had misled you, hadn't she? She'd told you that she loved you and you thought—"
"What are you, a mind reader?"
"Do I. . .do I remind you of Valerie?"
"What?"
"Do I—"
"No!"
"But I thought perhaps because you and I aren't social equals that I might—"
"Valerie was a tall, thin, blue-eyed blonde. So in appearance the two of you are nothing alike. But, yeah, maybe that snobby attitude of yours does remind me a bit of Valerie. . .and a dozen other rich, society gals I've known over the years."
"Were you in love with any of these other women?"
"No. Never. I learn pretty quick. I had to get burned only once to make me shy away from fire."
"I see. I. . .Matt?"
"Hmm?"
"May I ask you another question?"
Matt eyed her suspiciously. "I'm not playing true confessions with you again. My private life is just that—private."
"I apologize if I seemed nosy, but you are the one who brought up the subject of marriage."
"Correction," Matt said. "You brought up the subject of marriage. All I said was that I thought people should marry for love."
"There are other reasons for people to get married."
"Yeah, I know. There are all kinds of reasons. Political reasons. Financial reasons. Selfish reasons that have nothing to do with love. But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, since the upper class in Orlantha believe in arranged marriages."
"Most arranged marriages work out quite satis-factorily. My father's marriage to Muriel was arranged, and they're quite content with each other."
"Then the queen isn't your mother?"
"No, my mother died when I was three," Adele said. "She was the love of my father's life. He was betrothed to his cousin, Dedrick's aunt, but he fell in love with my mother and refused to marry anyone but her."
"If your father married for love the first time, why is he so insistent that you marry old mule face? He's got to know that you don't love the man."
"But I'm not in love with anyone else," Adele explained. "If I were in love with another man. . .if I were to marry someone else, then. . . Don't you see, Matt, you suggested it yourself—I should marry someone else, and that way I can't be forced to marry Dedrick. Married to someone else, I could return to Orlantha."
"Even if you marry some other guy, what would that accomplish in the long run? Your father might decide that you weren't fit to inherit the throne and he might turn it over to Dedrick."
"That's what I'd like Dedrick to believe. Knowing my father the way I do, I'm sure he'll fuss and fume and make all kinds of threats. He'll even threaten to denounce me, but he won't. He will eventually accept my marriage, but in the meantime we'll have found the proof we need against Dedrick. Once Dedrick and the Royalists are no longer a threat, then I can have my marriage annulled and—"
"Okay, I admit that screwy as your plan sounds, it just might work. If you're sure about your father—that he'll be outraged enough to be convincing, so that Dedrick will believe the king is considering denouncing you in favor of him."
"Oh, I'm sure of father's reaction. Believe me, this will buy us the time we need. We can get married here on Golnar. Theo can twist some arms to wave the two-week waiting period so we can get married in a few days, and then I'll call my father and—"
Matt grabbed Adele by the shoulders. She gasped. Their gazes clashed as they stared at each other.
"What do you mean we can get married?"
"Oh. Sorry. I never did ask you, did I?" She smiled faintly. "Matt O'Brien, will you marry me?"
Chapter 8
Marry you?" the words croaked from Matt's tight throat.
"Yes, will you marry me?" Adele repeated. "A temporary marriage in name only. You're the ideal choice— while you're posing as my husband, you can also protect me. And it's not too great a stretch of imagination for people to believe that we've fallen madly in love, if we say that it was love at first sight."
"You expect me to marry you?" Matt shook his head as if puzzled by her request.
"Why do you seem so surprised? After all, it was your idea."
"My idea? I don't think so."
"Yes, you told me, while we were in the car on the way from Austria to Orlantha, that I should marry someone else so I wouldn't be forced to marry Dedrick. Don't you remember?"
"Yeah, I remember, but I wasn't talking about me. No way, honey. You're going to have to find yourself another groom."
"Please, Matt." Adele hadn't counted on him refusing her. Didn't he realize he was turning down an offer of marriage to the heir to the throne of Orlantha? "I need you. The people of Orlantha need you. Don't you understand that I'm honoring you by giving you the privilege of—"
Matt laughed, a mirthless sound filled with sarcasm. "You forget you're talking to an American commoner. Being 'prince for a day' doesn't impress me."
"I see." Appealing to his noble side hadn't worked, so perhaps she should offer him a different inducement. ' 'What if I agree to pay you a sizable amount of money to marry me and remain my husband until we can prove to my father that Dedrick is a Royalist?''
"How much is a sizable amount?"
Adele huffed. Mercenary American lout! How was it possible that a man so physically appealing could be such an emotional oaf? "Half a million U.S. dollars. Once our marriage is annulled. I'm sure my father will consider it a small price to pay for your assistance in saving his country and his daughter."
"Hmm." Matt clicked his tongue as he considered her offer. "Being married to you would require hazardous-duty pay, which would up the asking price considerably."
"One million dollars." Adele smiled sweetly, determined not to allow this greedy, uncouth, aggravating, irritating, rude man to get the best of her. If she didn't believe that he was the absolutely perfect choice to pose as her bridegroom, she wouldn't consider demeaning herself this way.
Matt let out a long, low whistle. "You know, for that amount of money, I'm tempted."
"Then you'll marry me?"
Matt shook his head. "I said I was tempted. I didn't say I'd lost my mind."
Adele stomped her foot on the tiled balcony floor. Tension tightened her muscles as she tried to control her anger. "Very well. If you can't be persuaded to do something noble and selfless, even for a million dollars, then I'll have to find someone who will."
Matt grinned. "I didn't say I couldn't be persuaded."
There was something rather lascivious about Matt's smile. The bottom dropped out of Adele's stomach, and the erratic rat-a-tat of her heartbeat drummed inside her head.
"But you said. . .you implied that—"
Matt reached out, lifted a flyaway strand of hair from her cheek and looped it behind her ear. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked with his.
"Maybe you didn't offer me what I want," he said.
"A million dollars is a lot of money. Are you saying that there's something you'd rather have?" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded nervous and breathy. Was he implying what she thought he was? And if so, would she be willing to meet his price? Would she sacrifice herself for Orlantha?
Matt caressed her cheek. Adele took a step backward, common sense warning her to put some distance between the two of them. As much as she needed this man, she was intelligent enough to be wary of him. Despite the fact that he'd saved her from harm more than once, he was, in fact, little more than a stranger.
"You want a temporary, marriage-in-name-only deal, right?" Matt kept his gaze fixed on her face.
She nodded.
"I don't have a problem with the temporary part," he told her. "But the in-name-only part gives you all the advantages and leaves me with none. After all, I'd be doing you a favor, so the least you could do would be to make the deal worth my while. On a personal level."
How dare he! There was no longer any doubt in
her mind. The man was asking her for sex. Sex as payment for him marrying her. If courtesy and good manners had not been drilled into her since childhood, she would slap his silly, grinning face. To whom did he think he was speaking? She was Princess Adele Reynard of Orlantha, heir to the throne. And he was a commoner. A foreigner. He was nothing!
"Mr. O'Brien, consider the proposal withdrawn!" Rage boiled inside Adele. She turned and ran from the terrace, opened the nearest set of French doors, went into the villa and slammed the doors behind her.
Outside on the balcony, Matt O'Brien barely restrained his laughter until he was certain Her Highness was out of earshot. Damn, she was an easy mark. He supposed he should feel guilty for messing with her that way, but who the hell did she think she was, acting as if his marrying her on a temporary basis would be some great honor for him? And the woman actually thought she could buy him. A million dollars. A hell of a lot of money. More than he'd ever had; probably more than he ever would have. But no amount of money was worth selling his self-respect. He had learned long ago that the world wasn't always fair, didn't allot the same gifts to everyone and didn't necessarily reward hard work. Others could put you down, take away your livelihood, your material possessions and even your life. But self-respect was one thing that no one could ever take away from a person.
In his peripheral vision, Matt noticed Dia Constantine open the French doors through which the princess had gone so hastily several minutes ago.
"Mr. O'Brien?" Dia approached him.
He turned to face her. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Adele told me what happened and she's furious with you. Do you think it's wise to antagonize her? Adele is unaccustomed to being told no. She usually gets what she wants."
"Then maybe her not getting what she wants this time will be good for her."
"Ah, is that why you turned down her proposal—you wanted to teach her a lesson?''
"So you already knew what she had in mind." Matt studied Dia's expression. "I'm sure you and Theo can find her a more suitable gentleman to play the part of her husband."
"I'm sure we can, but. . ." Dia hesitated.
The Princess's Bodyguard Page 10
