The Princess's Bodyguard

by Beverly Barton

  "This is what we've suspected all along," Adele said.

  "Suspicion is all we have against Dedrick." Pippin slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand. "Why is it that we can't seem to find any proof against him? Time is running out." Pippin gazed longingly at Adele. "Look at what lengths you have gone to in order to buy us time. You've sacrificed yourself for the good of Orlantha. If only I had been with you. . ."

  "But you weren't," Adele said. "And even if you had been, who would have believed that a marriage between the two of us was a love match? My father would have seen through the ruse immediately."

  Pippin nodded. "Yes, of course, Your Highness. You're quite right."

  "You should return to the council and reassure them that the queen will do all she can to control my father. I'm sure the entire council is trembling in fear, uncertain about the king's intentions."

  Pippin kissed Adele's hand, then bowed and backed out of the room. Adele walked over to Matt and went straight into his open arms. She laid her head on his chest and hugged him. He held her tenderly in his embrace.

  "Poor Pippin," she said.

  "You were awfully blunt with him."

  "I know, but I thought it best. I truly had no idea that he had personal feelings for me, beyond friendship."

  Matt kissed the top of her head. "'My naive little wife, don't you know that every man who comes within a mile of you wants to get into your pants?''

  "Matt! You simply must stop speaking in such a man­ner. It isn't proper for the crown princess's husband to—"

  Matt silenced her with a kiss.

  "A public broadcast," Dedrick said. "You heard him say it. He's going to publicly denounce Adele and name me his successor."

  "Do not celebrate a victory quite yet."

  "But, my dear friend, what could possibly go wrong? Adele is adamant about not giving up her American lover. . .her husband." Dedrick chuckled. "And King Leo­pold is wise enough to know the man is totally unsuitable to become the prince consort. My God, he could never allow a child fathered by that man to ascend to the throne of Orlantha."

  "Do not rule out the king's great affection for his daughter. He has doted on her since the day she was born."

  "Then it will be your duty to see to it that Adele doesn't speak with her father again. At least not without our being present. We cannot allow her to have the opportunity to change his mind."

  "I will do what I can to keep them apart, but Queen Muriel is quite determined to do all she can to help the princess."

  "I believe it is too late for anyone to help Adele." Dedrick rubbed his hands together gleefully. "The stupid girl could have been my bride, and we could have ruled Orlantha and Balanchine together. Now she will spend her life in drudgery as the wife an American commoner."

  "Unless an accident befalls her. Our men failed to kill the princess and her husband when they were en route from San Marino to Erembourg, but will not fail again. I will personally see to it!"

  Dedrick snapped his head around and stared at his com­rade. "Is there any need to dispose of the princess now, to soil our hands with such a nasty mess?''

  "Perhaps not. Unless the king changes his mind."

  "Then for Adele's sake, let us hope he does not."

  Chapter 16

  Adele lay in Matt's arms in the large, ornate, four-poster bed sitting on a raised dais in her bedroom. Although Queen Muriel had assigned trusted palace guards to stand watch outside the entrance to the princess's suite, Matt kept his pistol in plain sight on a bedside table. He wasn't willing to take any chances, not where Adele's life was concerned. Their marriage might be only a temporary ar­rangement, but Matt was already thinking of her as his wife. He'd never felt as possessive and protective about a woman, not even when he'd been a green kid in love for the first time. Matt's eyelids flew open.

  In love? No way. He was not in love with Adele. He had a severe case of lust, just as she did. Hadn't she said so back in Golnar? What they shared was just sex. The best damn sex he'd ever had. And she made no bones about it—it was the best she'd ever had, too. So why pre­tend it was something more? Because, you blockhead, it is more and you know. It felt like more every time he looked at her, every time he touched her. Okay, so maybe it was more than lust, but it wasn't love. Hell, it couldn't be love. Fate wouldn't have played a trick that cruel on him, to make him fall for a woman who could never be his.

  Adele moaned in her sleep and cuddled closer. Matt rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Her skin was like smooth, flawless silk. She threw her arm over his chest and twined a strand of his chest hair around her index finger. His sex hardened instantly. They had made love before they'd gone to sleep, but he wanted her again. Now. Matt slipped the covers down to reveal her naked breasts. High, round and full, they tempted him beyond reason. He lowered his head and kissed the cleft between her breasts. She mumbled his name. Her eyelids flickered. He took one pebble-hard nipple into his mouth and suckled. Adele whimpered.

  ' 'Hmm. Are you trying to wake me?'' she asked.

  "I'm trying to do more than that," he told her, then laved her nipple with his tongue.

  She opened her eyes and cupped his head with the palm of her hand. "So you are." She stretched like a cat curling about its master's leg. "And doing a wonderful job of it."

  "Honey, you ain't seen nothing yet." He snapped back the covers, sending them to the foot of the bed, then lifted Adele and set her astride him. "You seem to enjoy being on top. Are you ready for another hard, fast ride?''

  Adele lifted herself up just enough so that he could slip inside her. She lowered herself over him, taking him com­pletely. They both sighed with pleasure as their bodies joined.

  "How is it that we can want each other—need each other—again so soon?'' Adele moved up and down, fitting herself to him, aligning her sensitive area where it would receive the most friction.

  "Your guess is as good as mine." He caressed her hips, stroking from the side, across each buttock and then down to the top edge of her thighs. "We just can't seem to get enough of each other."

  "This can't possibly last. Sooner or later it will burn itself out, won't it?"

  "I don't know, honey. It's never been quite like this before. I haven't been this horny since I was a teenager."

  "There you go again, using crude language, and I've told you over and over again that—"

  "That you love it when I talk dirty to you." Matt bucked up. ramming into her to the hilt while he held her hips in place so she would keep all of him inside her.

  Adele gasped. "Oh, Matt!"

  He laughed, then growled when she set a steady pace. Later, when she rode him in a frenzy while he suckled her breasts, he groaned against her naked flesh. And when they came to that final moment together, exploding simulta­neously, he roared like a mighty beast.

  While the aftershocks rippled through them, Adele col­lapsed on top of him. Matt reached down and pulled the covers up over them. They fell asleep that way, with Adele lying on Matt, their bodies still joined.

  Matt came awake with a start. What the hell had awak­ened him? Before he could figure it out, he realized Adele was lying on top of him, fast asleep. He kissed her fore­head.

  Something was ringing. The telephone? No, it was his cellular phone. He eased Adele off him and onto the bed, then slipped out of bed and walked over to the chair where he'd tossed his jacket last night. He pulled the phone from the pocket and put it to his ear.

  "O'Brien here."

  "Matt, it's Theo. I apologize for waking you at such an ungodly hour, but I have news from Khalid."

  That bit of information jarred Matt into a fully awake state. "What? What's the news?"

  "He has what you need," Theo said. "Proof that Dedrick Vardan is a member of the Royalists. And a bo­nus, also."

  "What's the bonus?"

  "It seems that someone the king trusts implicitly might also be a Royalist, one of the ringleaders within Orlantha."

  "Who?"

 
; "Khalid does not know. He needs a bit more time to discover this person's identity and to document the facts. But in the meantime, he is prepared to send the evidence against Dedrick by private courier, but he needs to know to whom his courier should deliver the package."

  Adele rose from the bed, slipped on her robe and walked over to Matt. "Who are you talking to?"

  "Theo," Matt replied. "Mr. Khalid has the proof that Dedrick is a Royalist."

  Adele sighed, then smiled broadly. ' 'Oh, Matt, so soon. When can he get the information to us?''

  Matt told Theo, "I want the package delivered directly to me. Disguise it as a wedding gift."

  "A good idea," Theo said. "Matt?"

  "Yes?"

  "How are you and Adele?"

  Matt understood Theo's question. "We're okay. Enjoy­ing our time together. But all good things must come to an end."

  "Not always," Theo told him. "Sometimes a man gets lucky and he can hold on to what he wants most in this world."

  "Yeah, sure." Matt changed the subject abruptly. "When can we expect the package from Mr. Khalid?"

  "His courier is en route to Erembourg as we speak," Theo said. "So, I'd say you can enjoy reading those doc­uments while you eat breakfast."

  "Thanks," Matt said. "And thank Mr. Khalid, whoever the hell he really is."

  Theo chuckled softly. "Dia sends her love to Adele. Someday, perhaps. . .ah, but then, someday is a long way off. Good luck, my friend. Take care of your woman."

  Before Matt could reply, Theo ended the connection.

  "Mr. Khalid is sending us the proof that Dedrick is a Royalist," Adele said. "When? Today?"

  "This morning."

  "Then we can take the proof to my father and—"

  "And put an end to all this pretense."

  The smile vanished from Adele's face. "Yes, once my father knows the truth about Dedrick, he can arrest him for treason and for trying to have us murdered."

  "There's proof against someone else, too," Matt told her. "But Mr. Khalid needs more time to gather that proof. He will send it later, when he's gotten hold of it."

  "Who is this evidence against?"

  "I'm sure it's not Pippin, if that's what's worrying you."

  "Theo didn't say who it is?"

  Matt shook his head. "Mr. Khalid doesn't know, but he's promised us proof of the person's identity soon."

  "It's Colonel Rickard," Adele said. "I've never really liked him."

  "My money is on Burhardt. Of course, it could be your secretary Lisa Mercer or even the queen herself."

  "No. It's not Lisa or Muriel. They both love me. They would never do anything—''

  "And doesn't Lord Burhardt love the king? Isn't Colonel Rickard sworn to defend the royal family?"

  "My father must be told about Dedrick immediately, and we must warn him that there is a traitor among his trusted friends. When we get the information about Dedrick, we must speak to my father alone."

  "That might be easier said than done."

  Adele read over the information that a courier had hand delivered directly to Matt less than thirty minutes ago. A part of her felt such relief, knowing that the documentation she held would prove to her father that Dedrick was a member of the Royalists. His seal and his signature were plainly visible on the document swearing his allegiance to King Eduard and to Balanchine. And among the papers in the package Matt pored over was a document signed by King Eduard making Dedrick his heir, with the provision that Dedrick was, at the time of Eduard's death, either the prince consort or the king of Orlantha.

  "How on earth did Mr. Khalid get copies of these doc­uments?" Adele wondered aloud. "The originals must be on file in Balanchine, in the king's palace."

  "I don't care how he got hold of them," Matt said as he opened a sealed envelope. "I have a pretty good idea, but it really doesn't matter, does it?"

  "No, it doesn't matter." Adele stared at the contents of the envelope Matt held as he dumped them onto the table. "What are those?"

  "Photographs," Matt said.

  "Of whom?"

  Matt spread the snapshots out on the tabletop. Adele hurried over to take a look.

  She gasped. "My God, it's pictures of Dedrick with King Eduard." Adele gathered up the photographs and re­turned them to the envelope. "We must take all of this to my father immediately."

  Matt grabbed her wrist. "Wait."

  She stared at him quizzically. "Why wait?''

  "Don't ask for an audience with His Majesty. It's best if we can figure out a way to speak to him without anyone else around. You know his daily routine. When and where our best chance is of waylaying your father when he doesn't have an entourage around him."

  Adele smiled as she snapped her fingers. "I know the perfect time and place."

  King Leopold stood beside his first wife's grave, knelt and placed a single white orchid atop the white marble monument. Every day when he was in Erembourg at the palace, the king visited Adele's mother's grave. Although many within the castle walls, including Queen Muriel, knew of His Majesty's daily pilgrimage, no one ever spoke of it nor did anyone ever accompany him.

  "Father?"

  The king's broad shoulders tensed. "Leave me. I wish to be alone."

  "You must know that I would never intrude if it were not of the utmost importance," Adele said. "But we have something to show you, something—"

  "We?" The king turned abruptly and glared at Matt. "You dare to bring that man onto this sacred ground?"

  "Father, Matt and I have documented proof that Dedrick is a Royalist. Please, you must look at these papers. They will prove to you that I have been right all along about Dedrick."

  The king stared at Adele, a frown marring his weary features. "Where did you get such proof? How do I know it is not a forgery?"

  "Look for yourself," Matt said. "Study the documents and make your own decision."

  The king walked over to a small gazebo and sat on the bench inside, then motioned to Adele. "Bring me the pa­pers."

  Adele smiled at Matt, who handed the package to her and waited where he stood, several feet from the gazebo, while Adele took the documents to her father. She sat down beside the king and handed him the folder of papers that would prove the ugly truth about Dedrick.

  The moments ticked by slowly as Adele watched her father read and study the documents. He didn't say a word, didn't even grunt. But his frown deepened. When he fin­ished his perusal of Mr. Khalid's explosive package, he placed all the papers back into the file and handed them to Adele.

  "I could have Dedrick arrested today," King Leopold said, his voice amazingly calm. "But I want to wait until we have proof of who his accomplice is. If I act too hastily, we could let someone far more dangerous than Dedrick escape."

  "Oh, Father, you believe—"

  "I believe my own eyes. I should have believed my daughter." The king held up his hand and motioned for Matt to come forward. "How did you come to be in pos­session of this information?"

  "A friend of Theo Constantine's—a Mr. Khalid—man­aged to acquire this documentation for us," Matt said. "He believes he can eventually find out the name of the traitor at your court."

  "I dare not wait," the king said. "As long as we do not know the face of our enemy, Adele's life will be at risk, as well as the future of Orlantha. These people must be stopped. Dedrick and whoever is pulling his strings."

  "But, Father—"

  The king grasped Adele's shoulders. "I must ask you to perform a great service for your country."

  "Anything," Adele replied.

  "If there were any other way. . ." The king cupped Adele's face with his hands. "The only thing I love as much as I do Orlantha is you, my child. I cannot do this. I cannot bear to choose between your safety and the good of our country."

  "Then let me choose, Father. Let the decision be mine."

  "There is one sure way to bring this rat out into the open, to make him expose himself, " King Leopold said. "If I publicly proclaim my acceptan
ce of your marriage, the Royalists will know there is no peaceful way to put Dedrick on the throne."

  "No," Matt said. "You can't expose Adele that way. What you're thinking would be too dangerous for her. I won't allow her to—"

  "Excuse me," Adele said. "But neither of you will de­cide what I will or won't do. I make my own decisions." She looked from Matt to her father. "If you publicly ac­cept my marriage to Matt, then the Royalists will have to attempt to kill me. This person who is in our confidence, this person we trust, will likely be the only one close enough to me to do the deed."

  Matt jerked Adele up off the bench. "Dammit, you can't do this. It's far too dangerous."

  "Yes, Matt, I can. And I will." She turned to her father. "Make the announcement today."

  "A royal wedding will be expected." Tears glistened in King Leopold's eyes. "Since much of the wedding ar­rangements for your marriage to Dedrick is already under­way, it would be no problem to move up the date. Three days from now."

  "Three days doesn't give us much time," Adele said.

  "What do you mean a royal wedding?" Matt asked.

  "The people of Orlantha will expect to see their princess wed in the Erembourg Cathedral. If we do anything less, Dedrick and the Royalists will suspect something is wrong." The king stood, placed his arm around Adele's shoulder and said, "From now until the day of your wed­ding, I will keep you under heavy guard, but on the morn­ing of your wedding, at the cathedral, we will make it appear that you are alone. I will let everyone know that you are not to be disturbed while you say your prayers before the services begin."

  "How can you use her as bait?" Matt asked. "She's your daughter."

  "She is the future queen of Orlantha and thus must be willing to risk everything for the sake of her country." King Leopold clamped his hand down on Matt's shoulder. "You will help me keep her safe. I can see that you love her, so I trust you to protect her with your life.''

  "Father, there's something Matt and I must tell you about our marriage, about why we—"