by Nora Roberts
“You’ll never get me off the palace grounds unseen,” Brie warned her.
“It doesn’t matter if they see us. None of the guards would dare shoot when I have a gun to your head.” Her plans were in pieces and it wasn’t possible to tell her partner. They wouldn’t be able to slip a drugged, unconscious Brie out of the dark side entrance watched by the men on their own payroll. They wouldn’t be able to close her quietly into the trunk of a waiting car.
The plan had been daring, but it had been organized. Now Janet had nothing.
“What were you planning to do?”
“I was to give you a message privately that the American needed to speak to you, in your room. He would have already been disposed of. Once there, there would have been a hypodermic for you. The rest would have been simple.”
“It’s not simple now.” Brie didn’t shudder at the easy way Janet had spoken of killing Reeve. She wouldn’t allow herself to shudder. Instead she made herself think as Janet led her closer to the terrace doors. And the dark.
* * *
“It’s so beautiful!” Eve had decided to give up being sophisticated and enjoy herself. “It must be fantastic to live in a palace every day.”
“It’s home.” Bennett had his arm around her shoulders as they looked down over the high wall. “You know, I’ve never been to Houston.”
“It’s nothing like this.” Eve took a deep breath before she turned to look at him. He was so handsome, she thought. So sweet. A perfect companion on a late spring night, and yet …
“I’m glad to be here,” she said slowly. “But I don’t think Prince Alexander likes me.”
“Alex?” Bennett gave a shrug. He wasn’t going to waste time on Alex when he had a beautiful girl in the moonlight. “He’s just a little stuffy, that’s all.”
She smiled. “You’re not. I’ve read a lot of … interesting things about you.”
“All true.” He grinned and kissed her hand. “But it’s you who interests me now. Eve—” He broke off with a quiet curse as he heard footsteps. “Damn, it’s so hard to find a private place around here.” Unwilling to be disturbed, he drew Eve into the shadows just as Janet shoved Brie through the doorway.
“I won’t go any farther until I know everything.” Brie turned, her white dress a slash of light in the shadows. And Bennett saw the gleam of the gun.
“Oh, my God.” He covered Eve’s mouth with his hand even as she drew the breath to speak. “Listen to me,” he whispered, watching his sister. “Go back to the ballroom and get my father or Alex or Reeve MacGee. Get all three if you can. Don’t make a sound, just go.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. She’d seen the gun, as well. Eve nodded so that Bennett would remove his hand. Thinking quickly, she stepped out of her shoes and ran barefoot and silent along the dark side of the building until she came to a set of doors.
“If I have to kill you here,” Janet said coolly, “it’ll be unpleasant for both of us.”
“I want to know why.” Brie braced herself against the wall. She didn’t know how she’d escape, but she had escaped before.
“Deboque is my lover. I want him back. For you, your father would exchange the devil himself.”
Brie narrowed her eyes. Janet Smithers kept her passion well concealed. “How did you get past the security checks? Anyone who’s hired to work for my family is—” She stopped herself. The answer was easy. “Loubet, of course.”
For the first time, Janet smiled genuinely. “Of course. Deboque knew of Loubet, of the men Loubet bribed to work for him as well as your father. A little pressure, the threat of exposure, and the eminent minister of state was very cooperative. It helped, too, that he hated your father and looked at the kidnapping as a means of revenge.”
“Revenge? Revenge for what?”
“The accident. You remember it now. Your father was driving. He was young, a bit reckless. He and the diplomat suffered only minor injuries, but Loubet …”
“He still limps,” Brie murmured.
“Oh, more. Loubet has no children, nor will he ever, even with his young wife. He has yet to tell her, you know. He’s afraid she’ll leave him. The doctors assure him his problem has nothing to do with the accident. He chooses to believe otherwise.”
“So he helped arrange the kidnapping to punish my father? That’s mad.”
“Hate will make you so. I, on the other hand, hate no one. I simply want my lover back.” Janet held the gun so that it caught the moonlight. “I’m quite sane, Your Highness. I’ll kill you only if I must.”
“And if you do, your lover stays where he is.” Brie straightened and called her bluff. “You can’t kill me, because I’d be of no use to you dead.”
“Quite right.” But she aimed the gun again. “Do you know how painful a bullet can be, though it hits no vital organ?”
“No!” Infuriated, terrified, impulsive, Bennett leaped out of the shadows. He caught both Brie and Janet off guard. Both women froze as he lunged toward the gun. He nearly had it before Janet got off the first shot. The young prince fell without a sound.
“Oh, God, Bennett.” Brie was on her knees beside him. “Oh, no, no, Bennett.” His blood seeped into the white silk of her dress as she gathered him into her arms. Frantically, she checked for a pulse. “Go ahead and shoot,” she hurled at Janet. “You can’t do any more to me. I’ll see you and your lover in hell for this.”
“So you will.” Reeve spoke quietly as the doorway was filled with light, men, uniforms and guns.
Janet watched Armand go to his children and the guards stand firm. She held her gun out, butt first. “No dramatics,” she said as Reeve stepped forward to take it. “I’m a practical woman.”
At a signal from Reeve she was flanked and taken away.
“Oh, Papa.” Brie reached out. Armand was on his knees beside Bennett. “He tried to get the gun.” Brie pressed her cheek to her brother’s hair. “The doctor—”
“He’s right here.”
“Now, now, Gabriella.” Dr. Franco’s kind, patient voice came from behind her. “Let the boy go and give me room.”
“I won’t leave him. I won’t—”
“Don’t argue,” Bennett said weakly. “I’ve got the world’s worst headache.”
She would have wept then, but her father’s arm came around her, trembling lightly. “All right, then,” she said as she watched Bennett’s eyes flutter open. “I’ll let him poke and prod at you. God knows I’ve had my fill of it.”
“Brie …” Bennett held her hand a moment. “Any pretty nurses at the hospital?”
“Dozens,” she managed.
He sighed and let his eyes close. “Thank God.”
Holding out a hand for Alexander, Brie turned into Reeve’s arms. She was home at last.
Epilogue
He’d promised her they’d have one last day on the water. That was all, Reeve told himself as the Liberté glided in the early-morning wind. They’d have one last day before the fantasy ended. His fantasy.
It had nearly been tragedy, he thought, and couldn’t relax even yet. Though Loubet had already been taken when Eve had rushed into the ballroom, Brie had been alone with Deboque’s lover.
“I can’t believe it’s really over,” Brie said quietly.
Looking at her, neither could he. But they weren’t thinking of the same thing. “It’s over.”
“Loubet—I could almost feel sorry for him. An illness.” Brie thought of his pretty young wife and the shock on her face. “With Janet, an obsession.”
“They were users,” he reminded her. “Nearly killers. Both Bennett and that guard were lucky.”
“I know.” Over the past three days, she’d given thanks countless times. “I’ve killed.”
“Brie—”
“No, I’ve faced it now. Accepted it. I know I was hiding from that, from those horrid days and nights alone in that dark room.”
“You weren’t hiding,” he corrected. “You needed time.”
&
nbsp; “Now you sound like my doctors.” She adjusted the tiller so that they began to tack toward the little cove. “I think parts of my memory, or my feelings were still there. I never told you about the coffee—about Janet’s telling me that Nanny always fixed it for me. I never told you, I think, because I never really believed it of her. I couldn’t. The bond was too strong.”
“But Janet wouldn’t understand that.”
“She explained to me how Nanny brought it to the office the day I was kidnapped and scolded me a bit. Then she told me I left directly, that she walked me down to my car so that I’d know there had been no chance for anyone else to have doctored it. What she didn’t tell me, what I didn’t remember until the night of the ball, was that she’d taken the thermos from me and given me a stack of papers to sign. That gave her enough time to do what she had to do.”
“But she hadn’t counted on the old woman being sharp enough to go to your father with her suspicions after Loubet and Deboque’s cousin Henri had picked you up at the little farm.”
“Bless Nanny. To think she was watching over me all those weeks when I thought she was just fussing.”
“Your father had you well looked after. He wasn’t going to risk Loubet’s making another move.”
“Loubet’s plan would have worked if Henri hadn’t had a weakness for wine and I hadn’t started pouring my soup on the ground. If I’d kept taking the full dose of the drug, I’d never have managed to hold off Henri or break through the boards over the window.” She looked down at her hands. The nails were perfect again. They’d suffered badly when she’d fought to pry her way through the window. “Now it’s over. I have my life back.”
“You’re happy with it. That’s what matters.”
She smiled at him slowly. “Yes, I’m happy with it. You know Christina and Eve are staying a few more days.”
“I know your father would like to erect a statue to Eve.”
“We’ve got a lot to be grateful to her for,” Brie told him. “I have to say I enjoy watching her bask in the glory.”
“The kid was white as a sheet when she got into the ballroom, but she didn’t fumble around. She had the story straight and led us right to you.”
“I’ve never thanked you properly.” They glided into the little cove and she dropped sail.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“But I want to. You gave me a great deal—me and my family. We won’t forget it.”
“I said you didn’t have to thank me.” This time his voice was cool as he walked to the rail.
“Reeve …” Brie rose to join him, wishing she were as sure of herself as she intended to sound. “I realize that you’re not a citizen of Cordina and therefore not subject to our laws or customs. However, I have a request.” She touched her tongue to her top lip. “Since my birthday is only two weeks away, we can call it a royal request if you like. It’s customary for members of the royal family to have a request granted on the anniversary of their birth.”
“A request.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Which is?”
She liked him like this, a bit annoyed, a bit aloof. It would make it easier. “Our engagement is very popular, wouldn’t you agree?”
He gave a short laugh. “Yeah.”
“For myself, I have to confess I’m quite fond of the diamond you gave me.”
“Keep it,” he said carelessly. “Consider it a gift.”
She looked down at it, then at the ring on her right hand. No more conflicting loyalties, she mused. Her emotions were very clear. “I intend to.” She smiled as he shot her a cool look. “You know, I have a number of connections. There could be quite a bit of trouble with your passport, your visa, even your flight back to America.”
Pitching the cigarette into the sea, he turned completely around. “What are you getting at?”
“I think it would be much simpler all around if you married me. In fact, I’m planning to insist.”
He leaned back against the rail and watched her. He couldn’t read her now—perhaps his own feelings prevented it. She was speaking as Princess Gabriella, cool, calm and confident. “Is that so?”
“Yes. If you cooperate, I’m sure we can work things out to mutual advantage.”
“I’m not interested in advantages.”
“Nonsense.” She brushed this off, but her palms were damp. “It would be possible for us to spend six months in Cordina and six months in America,” she went on. “I believe there must be a certain amount of compromise in any marriage. You agree?”
Negotiations. He’d carried out plenty of them as a cop. “Maybe.”
She swallowed quietly, then went on speaking in an easy, practical tone. “Naturally, I have a lot of obligations, but when Alexander marries, his wife will assume some of them. In the meantime, it’s hardly more than having a job, really.”
Enough, he thought, of details and plans. Enough negotiating. He wanted it plain. “Simplify it.” He took a step forward and she took one back.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Tell me what you want and why.”
“You,” she said, keeping her chin up. “Because I love you and I have ever since I was sixteen and you kissed me on the terrace with the roses and moonlight.”
He wanted to touch her cheek, but he didn’t, not yet. Not just vet. “You’re not sixteen anymore, and this isn’t a fairy tale.”
“No.”
Was she smiling? he wondered. Didn’t she know how badly he needed her to mean it? “There won’t be a palace waiting for you in America.”
“There’s a house with a big front porch.” She took another step back. “Don’t make me beg. If you don’t want me, say so.”
This time she spoke as a woman, not so confident, not so cool. He had what he needed.
“When you were sixteen and I waltzed with you, it was like a dream.” He took her hands. “I never forgot it. When I came back and kissed you again, it was real. I’ve never wanted anything more.”
Her hands were firm on his. “And I’ve never wanted anyone more.”
“Marry me, Brie, and sit on the porch with me. If we can have that, I can live with Her Serene Highness Gabriella.”
She took both of his hands to her face and kissed them, one at a time. “It isn’t a fairy tale, but sometimes life is happy ever after.”
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Harlequin Books edition /
June 1987
InterMix eBook edition / January 2012
Copyright © 1987 by Nora Roberts.
Excerpt from The Witness copyright © by Nora Roberts.
All rights reserved.
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ISBN: 978-110-1-56820-0
INTERMIX
InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
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INTERMIX and the INTERMIX design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
To Walter Mittermeyer, a true prince,
and his lady, Helen
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Excerpt from The Witness
Chapter 1
She’d been to the palace before. The first time, nearly seven years earlier, she’d thought it was a fairy tale sprung into three dimensions. She was older now, though she wasn’t sure about wiser. Cordina was a country. The palace was a building, a beautiful one. Fairy tales were for the very young, the very naive or the very fortunate.
