Cordina's Royal Family Collection

by Nora Roberts

  Hannah frowned and continued to watch. She had full background information on the entire O’Hurley family, except the brother. There her sources had closed tight. In any case, Chantel O’Hurley was a talented actress with an impressive list of screen credits and no known affiliation with any political group. Nonetheless, Hannah would keep an eye on her.

  “She’s found the heart of it,” Eve murmured. “I’d finished the play and was trying to work up the courage to produce it, when I saw her in her last film. I knew immediately she’d be the perfect Julia.” On a long breath Eve leaned back again in an unprincesslike slouch. “I can’t believe she’s here, reciting my lines. There isn’t an emotion that voice can’t pull out.”

  “I’m sure she’s honored to be performing in a play written and produced by Princess Eve of Cordina.”

  On a half laugh, Eve shook her head. “If the play had been lousy, I could have been Empress of Europe and Chantel wouldn’t have accepted the part. That’s what I’m hanging on to.”

  “A member of the Royal Family doesn’t write lousy plays.”

  At the sound of the voice behind her, Eve was springing up and reaching out. “Alexander! What are you doing here?”

  “I, too, have an interest in the Center.” He kissed the hand he held before turning to Hannah. “Please, sit, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “No.” Eve sighed and glanced back at the stage where rehearsals continued. “You meant to check up on me.”

  It was, of course, the truth, but Alexander only shrugged. In the dim light, Hannah saw his gaze sweep over his wife’s head to the guards placed at several strategic points. “You forget, ma mie, that I am still president of the Center. In addition to that, my wife’s play is in rehearsal. I have a small interest there as well.”

  “And you came to be certain I wasn’t staying on my feet.” Over the frustration came the tug of love. Eve rose to her toes to kiss him. “Thank you. Hannah, tell His Highness I’ve been taking care of myself in the four hours and forty minutes since he last saw me.”

  “Your Highness,” Hannah began dutifully, “the princess has been taking excellent care of herself.”

  A smile softened his features, but he continued to stand protectively near his wife. “Thank you, Hannah. I’m sure the credit goes to you.”

  With a low laugh, Eve tucked her hand through Alexander’s arm. “Hannah, you can see that I wasn’t joking when I said that Alex thinks I need a keeper. If you hadn’t come I have no doubt he’d have hired a two-hundred-pound wrestler with tattoos.”

  “I’m glad I could save you from that.” What was this? Hannah wondered. A tug of envy? Ridiculous as it seemed to her, she recognized the emotion as she studied Alexander and Eve. So much in love, she thought. The power of it all but cast an aura around them. Did they realize, could they realize, how rare a thing they’d found?

  “Now that I’ve interrupted,” Alexander was saying, “I was hoping to convince you to join me for my luncheon with the American senator.”

  “The Yankee from Maine.”

  With a smile, Alexander stroked her cheek. “My dear, it continues to fascinate me how your country divides itself into sections. But yes, the Yankee from Maine. We should be finished by three and be back at the palace when Marissa wakes from her nap.”

  “But you had a meeting this afternoon.”

  “I canceled it.” He brought her hand to his lips. “I wanted to spend some time with my family.”

  The glow of pleasure all but lit up the theater. “Give me five minutes to get my things. Hannah, you’ll join us?”

  “If it wouldn’t inconvenience you, I’d really like to stay and watch the rest of the rehearsal.” Her mind was already shooting ahead. Alone, she could take a casual tour of the complex. If there were vulnerabilities, she’d find them.

  “Of course, stay as long as you like.” Eve bent down to kiss her cheek. “We’ll have a car wait for you at the stage door. Five minutes,” she repeated to Alexander before she dashed off.

  “What do you think of the play?” Alexander asked Hannah as he took the seat beside her.

  “I’m hardly an expert on the theater, Your Highness.”

  “In private, please call me Alexander.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, aware that this gave her an intimacy rewarded to few. “There’s an intensity, an immediacy in the dialogue that makes one care deeply about the characters. I don’t know the end, but I find myself hoping Julia wins even while I’m afraid she won’t.”

  “Eve would like to hear that. The play—and other things—have her very tense right now.”

  “You’re worried about her.” In a gesture that was pure instinct, Hannah placed a hand on his. “She’s very strong.”

  “I know that, better than most.” But he’d never been able to block off the memory of how her body had stiffened, then gone limp in his arms when a bullet had struck her. “I haven’t told you before how very grateful I am that you came to be with her. She needs friendship. I changed her life, selfishly perhaps because I couldn’t live mine without her. Whatever can be done to give her a sense of normalcy, a sense of peace, I’ll do. You understand the obligations of royalty. The limitations. Even the risk.”

  “Yes, I do.” Hannah left her hand on his another moment before removing it. “And I understand a happy woman when I see one.”

  When he turned to her then, Hannah saw the strong resemblance to his father. The lean, almost scholarly face, the aristocratic lines, the mouth that was held firm. “Thank you, Hannah. I think perhaps you’ll be good for all of us.”

  “I hope so.” She looked back at the stage, at the players, at the roles. “I do hope so.”

  * * *

  Alone, Hannah watched for another half hour. Yes, the play was good, she decided, even gripping, but she had other games to play.

  The guards remained, but with no royalty present they were more for the purpose of keeping others out than monitoring those already in. Lady Hannah was already established as the princess’s confidante and companion. Trusted by Prince Armand himself, she wasn’t followed when she rose and slipped through a side door.

  There was a miniature camera concealed in a lipstick case in her handbag, but she didn’t use it now. Her training had taught her to rely on her powers of observation first, her equipment second.

  A building the size of the sprawling Center wasn’t easily secured. Hannah found herself giving Reeve MacGee a nod of respect as she walked through. Heat sensors as well as hidden cameras. But the sensors were activated only when the Center was closed.

  Security passes were required at the door for members of the cast and crew. On the night of a performance, however, entrance could be gained for the price of a ticket. Deboque would step from behind bars in a day’s time.

  As she walked, leaving one corridor for the next, Hannah drew a blueprint in her mind. She’d studied the layout of the Center on paper before, but preferred to walk in it, to focus on it, to touch the walls and floor.

  Too many blind corners, she thought. Too many small rooms used for storage. Too many places to hide. Even with Reeve’s expertise, the building could be vulnerable with the right plan of attack. But then, Hannah believed any building could be.

  She turned into Wardrobe, pretending a casual interest in the costumes. Did the guard at the door know everyone by sight? How easy would it be to replace one of the technicians? A photo was affixed to the pass, but makeup and hairpieces could take care of that. How often had she, or another like her, gained access to a place by faked credentials or a clever disguise?

  Once inside, a man could disappear easily. If a man on the security panel could be bribed or replaced, so much the better.

  Yes, she’d put that scenario in her report and let her superiors chew on it awhile. She’d add to that the fact that no one had checked her bag. A small plastic explosive could be easily carried and easily planted.

  She walked from Wardrobe into a rehearsal hall walled with
mirrors. With a little shock, she stared at her reflection on all sides. Then, as she had in the garden, she let out a low, easy laugh.

  Oh, Hannah, she thought, how miserably dull you are. Turning to the side, she shook her head. No, maroon did nothing for her, and the high-necked jacket with its bulky belt only made her look unattractively thin. The skirt came well below the knee to hide her legs. She’d braided her hair today, tightly, then had circled the braid at the base of her neck.

  Being a part of herself, it was the best cover she could have conceived. She’d been too skinny as a child, with unmanageable hair, and knees that were forever scraped. Her facial bones had been prominent even then, but in the young girl’s face had seemed too sharp, too angular.

  Then when the other girls had begun to bloom and curve, Hannah’s body had remained stubbornly straight. She’d been bright and athletic and cheerful. Boys had patted her on the back and called her a good sport, but they hadn’t been interested in taking her to any dances.

  She’d learned to ride, swim, shoot skeet and to put an arrow in a bull’s-eye from a hundred paces, but she hadn’t dated.

  She’d learned to speak Russian and French and enough Cantonese to surprise even her father, but she’d gone alone to her own graduation ball.

  When she turned twenty, her body changed, but Hannah hid the late blossoming under dull clothes. She’d already chosen her path in life. Beauty turned heads and in her field it was always best to go unnoticed.

  Now, she looked at the results in the wall of mirrors and was satisfied. No man would desire her. It was human nature to look at the physical shell and draw emotion from that long before you dipped beneath to the intellect or soul. No woman would envy her. Dull was safe, after all.

  No one would suspect a plain, bookish woman of excellent breeding and quiet social manners of deception or violence. Only a select few were aware that the woman beneath was capable of both.

  For a reason she couldn’t name, that thought made her turn away from her reflection. Deception had been with her all of her adult life, and yet she couldn’t quite dismiss the twinges of guilt she felt whenever Eve looked at her as a friend.

  It was a job, Hannah reminded herself. No emotional attachments, no emotional involvements were permitted. That was the first and most important rule of the game. She couldn’t afford to allow herself to like Eve, to even think of her as anything but a political symbol. If she did, everything she’d worked for could be lost.

  The envy had to go as well, Hannah reminded herself. It was a dangerous lapse to let herself look at the love between the prince and Eve and wish something similar for herself. There was no room for love in her profession. There were only goals, commitments and risks.

  There would be no prince for her, royal or otherwise.

  But before she could prevent it, her thoughts turned to Bennett and the way he’d smiled at her in the moonlight.

  Idiot, she told herself and began tightening a few loose pins. He was the last person she should think about in a personal way. If for no other reason, there was his dossier and the astonishing list of women who’d been part of his life already.

  Use him, certainly, her mind went on. But don’t think about him as anything but a means to an end. Romantic fantasies had ended for her at sixteen. Ten years later, in the middle of her most important job, was hardly the time to begin to weave them again. She would do well to remember that the stiff-lipped, proper Lady Hannah would never see His Royal Highness Prince Bennett de Cordina in a romantic light.

  But the woman within dreamed and for a moment strained against the confines she’d built herself.

  Hannah turned to look back at the mirrors when she heard the footsteps.

  Immediately alert, she cast her eyes down and walked from the room.

  “Ah, there you are.”

  At Bennett’s voice, Hannah gave an inward curse, but curtsied. “Your Highness.”

  “Taking the grand tour?” He walked closer, wondering why she looked as plain as a maiden aunt and continued to intrigue him.

  “Yes, sir. I hope it’s all right.”

  “Of course.” He took her hand, willing her to look directly at him. There was something about her eyes. . . . Or perhaps it was her voice, that cool, always composed British tone. “I had some business in town. Alexander suggested I swing by when I’d finished to see if you were ready to go back.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” And oh, how she would have preferred a silent, anonymous driver who’d have given her the opportunity to assimilate her report on the drive back.

  “I was here.” He felt the restlessness layer over him as she drew her hand back to her side. “If you’d like to see more, I’d be happy to take you around the rest of the Center.”

  Hannah weighed the pros and cons in a matter of seconds. Another quick look might add something, but she’d already gone through the main theater twice, once with Eve and once alone. It might begin to look odd if she went through again with Bennett.

  “No, thank you. It is a fascinating place. I’ve never seen a theater from this side.”

  “Eve’s territory. I confess I prefer front row center myself.” He took Hannah’s arm and began to lead her down the hall. “If you hang around her for any length of time, she finds something for you to do. With me, it’s usually moving boxes. Heavy boxes.”

  With a laugh, Hannah slanted him a look. “That’s one of the best uses a woman can find for a man.”

  “I can see why Eve took to you.” He’d come simply to do his sister-in-law a favor, but now found himself glad. Outward appearance aside, Lady Hannah was anything but dull. For perhaps the first time in his life, Bennett was beginning to look beneath the physical. “Have you seen much of Cordina yet, Hannah?”

  She noticed he’d dropped her title, but decided to let it pass. “Only snatches so far, sir. Once I’m a bit more familiar with Eve’s routine, I plan to explore a bit. I’ve heard your museum has some excellent exhibits. The building itself is reported to be a fine example of post-Renaissance architecture.”

  He wasn’t interested in exhibits, but in her. “Do you like the water?”

  “Of course. Sea air is very beneficial for the constitution.”

  With a half laugh, Bennett paused at the top of the stairs. “But do you like it?”

  He had a strange talent for looking at a woman as though he were seeing her for the first time. And looking as though it mattered. Despite her training, Hannah felt her pulse rate accelerate. “Yes. My grandmother has a place near Cornwall. I spent several summers there as a girl.”

  He wondered what she would look like with her hair down and the sea wind teasing it. Would she laugh as he had heard her laugh in the garden? Would he see that light flash in her eyes again? Then he realized it didn’t matter how she looked. He went on impulse, knowing he might regret it.

  “I have to go into Le Havre in a couple of days. The drive runs along the coast. Come with me.”

  If he’d asked her to step into the storage room and neck, she would have been no less surprised. Surprise turned quickly to caution and caution to calculation. But beneath it all was the simple pleasure that he wanted her company. It was the pleasure that worried her.

  “It’s kind of you to ask, Your Highness, but Eve may have plans.”

  “Then we’ll check with her first.” He wanted her to go. He found himself already looking forward to spending a few hours with her away from the palace. Perhaps it was for the challenge of it, the challenge of picking away at that prim, proper exterior and finding what, if anything, lay beneath. Whatever the reason was, Bennett didn’t question it. “Would you like to go?”

  “Yes, I would.” Hannah told herself it was because it would give her the opportunity to study him more closely, for professional reasons. She told herself it would give her the chance to see how well security worked away from the palace and the capital. But the truth was as simple as her answer. She wanted to go.

  “Fine, then we�
��ll fix it, and you can stand through the long and wordy welcoming ceremony with me.”

  “Hate to be bored alone, do you?”

  Laughing, Bennett took her hand again. “Yes, I can see exactly why Eve brought you to us.” Her hand was an inch from his lips when the murmur of voices came from below. Glancing down, more than a little annoyed, Bennett spotted Chantel.

  “The anger has to show,” she was insisting, walking so quickly the director had to lengthen his stride to keep up. “Julia is not a passive woman. She doesn’t hide what she feels no matter what the consequences. Dammit, Maurice, I’ll make it subtle. I know my job.”

  “Of course you do, chérie, that I don’t question. It is simply that—”

  “Mademoiselle.” From the top of the stairs, Bennett looked down. Hannah had a firsthand glimpse of how he smiled at a truly beautiful woman. Without thinking, she drew her hand from his and linked her fingers together.

  Chantel, reaching one hand up to draw back her pale blond hair, tilted her head back. Even so dispassionate an observer such as Hannah had to concede that few women could claim such a combination of glamour, beauty and sexuality. Her lips curved. Her eyes, a deep, dreamy shade of blue, smiled with them.

  “Your Highness,” Chantel said in her rich, smoky voice as she dipped into a formal curtsy. She started up the stairs and Bennett started down. In the middle, they stopped, then Chantel reached up to touch his face before bringing him closer for a lengthy kiss. Above them, Hannah felt her teeth snap together. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long.” Bennett cupped her hand in both of his. “You’re lovelier than ever. It’s astonishing.”

  “It’s genes,” Chantel claimed, and grinned at him. “My God, Bennett, what a beautiful man you are. If I wasn’t a cynic, I’d propose.”

  “If I wasn’t terrified of you, I’d accept.” They embraced again with the ease of old friends. “Chantel, it’s good to see you again. Eve was turning handsprings when you agreed to take the part.”

  “It’s a good play.” Chantel gave a matter-of-fact shrug. “Even though I adore you, I wouldn’t have come all this way to take a role in a bomb. Your sister-in-law’s a talented woman.” Chantel cast a look over her shoulder at the director waiting respectfully at the bottom of the stairs. “You might mention to her that I’m fighting to preserve the integrity of her Julia.” As she turned back, she spotted Hannah standing on the landing. “Friend of yours?”