Romancing Rayne

by Riley Edwards

  “Ma’am!” the man yelled again.

  Shit. I needed to pick up my pace. My vision started to blur, and I couldn’t go any faster. I tried to push on, but my legs were too heavy. I was light-headed and scared I’d fall and hurt the baby. I slowed to a stop and held onto a newspaper dispenser trying to catch my breath.

  “Ma’am!” The man’s voice was too close.

  This was it. I was screwed. I couldn’t do anything but scream, hoping someone would hear me and help.

  I’m so sorry, Ghost!

  Ghost

  “Where’s my wife, motherfucker?” I banged my fist on the worn, metal table and leaned in closer to the man who was the last person to see Rayne.

  “I don’t bloody know,” he told me.

  Oliver was standing next to me, his arms crossed over his wide chest and he, too, eyed the taxi driver. It’d taken him one call to the cab company to have the driver called back to the office. By the time Oliver had picked me up at the Tower of London, and we’d driven to the garage where the taxi service was housed, the driver had been waiting—unaware the wrath of Satan was about to rain down on him.

  “Does this belong to your wife?” the manager asked, entering the break room.

  Rayne’s new leather purse dangled from his outstretched hand.

  “Son of a bitch,” I cursed.

  Before I could move, Oliver had the driver out of the chair and pinned to the wall by his throat. Gone was the high-class gentleman he’d been the other night, and back was the lethal soldier I knew him to be.

  “I think you may want to rethink your last statement and start talking. You have sixty seconds to tell my friend where his wife is. After that, I’m walking out the door and leaving him alone with you. I guarantee he will not be civil.”

  Oliver released some of the pressure from around the driver’s throat, allowing him much needed oxygen.

  The man sputtered and coughed before he started to speak again.

  “A woman left that in my cab. I was going to place it into lost property.”

  Oliver stepped away, and I looked to the manager, who was shaking his head.

  “It was in his locker,” the manager informed me.

  “For safe—”

  “Shut the fuck up. Where is she?”

  I took Rayne’s purse from the manager and rummaged through the bag. Her wallet and credit cards were still in place, no cash, but I didn’t think she had any, and if this fuckwit had stolen it that was the least of my concerns. Sunglasses, bottle of water, travel guide, and miscellaneous crap—nothing that would lead me to her.

  Fuck! If I had her purse, that meant she didn’t have her credit cards or identification.

  I set the bag on the table and the strap caught my attention, it was scuffed. Further inspection showed the stitching of the strap was coming loose. I briefly closed my eyes and remembered the street artesian explaining he’d hand sewn all the bags. All his items were quality pieces; it would take quite a struggle to rip the stitching.

  “Out we go.” Oliver turned to the manager and ushered him to the door.

  “If you’re alive after he’s done with you, you’re fired. This is the third complaint filed against you.”

  “Third?” I asked.

  “Yes. Harassment and theft. I didn’t want to believe it. He is my wife’s cousin. But after this—no more chances.”

  Seeing red didn’t begin to describe what I was feeling. I wanted to rip his head off with my bare hands.

  With slow, methodical steps, I made my way around the table.

  “Did you touch her?” I growled, my voice no longer sounding like my own.

  “No. No.” The man held his hands in front of him as if the gesture could stop the imminent attack.

  “Why do you have her purse?”

  “I told you, she left it in my cab.”

  “You must think I’m a fucking idiot.”

  “She did. She left it.”

  It was time I schooled the asshole on how a Delta Force Operator extracts intel from an enemy combatant.

  With a kick he didn’t see coming, my foot perfectly connected with his solar plexus and he tumbled back, hitting the wall. Before he could catch his breath, two punches landed in the same spot, rendering him unable to speak. The man slid down the wall, landing on his ass, his body slumped forward as he gasped for air.

  “Get up!” I yelled. When the man made no move to comply, I grabbed the collar of his button-down shirt and yanked him to his feet.

  “Where is Rayne?” He took too long to answer, so I elbowed him across the face, happy to hear the crush of bones breaking before bringing it back across, hitting him a second time. A move the team affectionately called the stinger. Satisfied now that blood was pouring from his nose, dripping on his expensive and perfectly tailored shirt. I tried again. “Where did you take her?” The man mumbled something unintelligible. “Louder. What did you say?”

  “Stop. Please stop. She got out over by White Hall.”

  “Got out?”

  “I stopped at a stop sign, and she just jumped out. She was struggling with her bag, and I thought she was going to stiff me so I drove away.” He coughed and used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his mouth. “She just got out. That’s all.”

  White Hall was in the opposite direction of the hotel, but it did correspond with the information Tex had given me about the taxi passing Swedenborg Gardens.

  “Where did she ask to be taken when she got in?”

  “Park Plaza.”

  My blood pressure kicked up another notch. This asshole had pegged Rayne as an easy mark and had intended to take her around the city to hike up his meter.

  “Where exactly did she get out?”

  “Blue Bonnet and Royal Walk.”

  Having all the information I needed from him, I balled my fist and felt no remorse when a sharp upper-cut to his chin knocked him clean out. He crumbled to the floor, and I used the remaining control I had not to spit on him as I stepped over his beaten body.

  The door swung open, and Oliver stepped in.

  “Bloody hell, I was afraid you were going to kill him.” Oliver looked down at the man. “You didn’t, right? A dead body will take me more than a call to fix.”

  “His nose is broken, and I think I saw a tooth fly out of his mouth, but he’ll wake up.”

  “I heard. Blue Bonnet and Royal Walk. Let’s go.”

  Oliver didn’t wait for me to respond, just like in Afghanistan, he trusted I’d pull up his six.

  Hold on, Princess, I’m coming for you.

  14

  Meghan

  “Where would you like to take her, ma’am?” Tomas, my personal security officer and driver asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered before looking back at the woman lying across the back seat. “Rayne? Wake up.”

  Where was Ghost? Why was she out here all alone? I looked out the tinted windows, scanning the area, expecting to see her frantic husband searching for her.

  “I’m afraid I gave her a fright. Should we take her to hospital?”

  Crap. She was pregnant and passed out cold. This was not good. I couldn’t think of any reason Rayne would be wandering around this part of the city.

  “I have to call Harry,” I announced. Yes, he would know what to do and he could get in touch with Ghost.

  “Ma’am, he’s in meetings all afternoon,” Tomas reminded me.

  I was about to relent and agree to take Rayne to the hospital when I remembered the stories Harry had told me about Afghanistan and Ghost and his team saving his life. They were close, he spoke of Ghost fondly. He’d want to be interrupted.

  I pulled my phone from my bag at my feet and dialed, hoping I was doing the right thing. Harry knew I’d never call when he was busy unless it was an emergency.

  “Meghan? Are you all right?” he answered, just as I knew he would.

  “Yes,” I reassured him. “I was coming back from lunch in White Hall and I saw Rayne
walking down the street. I asked Tomas to pull over so I could say hello and I think we scared her. She took off running. Harry, she passed out. What do I do?”

  “Where’s Ghost?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t have a phone or a purse. Did you miss the part where I told you she was passed out?”

  “Ghost isn’t with her?”

  “No,” I huffed, getting more worried by the second.

  “Bring her to the palace. I’ll try to get ahold of Ghost.” I heard him excusing himself from the meeting and felt horrible for all the trouble I’d caused.

  “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

  “You are never a bother, my love. You did the right thing. If she’s lost, I fear what Ghost will do to my poor city trying to find her. Bring her to the palace, hurry.”

  “Harry?”

  “Right here.”

  “Which palace?”

  He chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. I was learning, but sometimes he forgot I wasn’t fluent in royalty yet.

  “Buckingham.”

  “Please find Ghost and tell him I’m sorry.”

  Harry

  Bloody hell.

  Ghost wasn’t answering his phone.

  I hated to bother Oliver on his day off, but no one was better at tracking than him. Just like me, he would do anything for the man who’d not only saved our lives but kept our secrets. Yes, Oliver would want to help.

  When he didn’t answer as well, I left him an urgent message to ring me back.

  The only thing I could do for my friend was keep his wife protected until he could come fetch her. That meant medical care as well. After making arrangements for my personal physician to come to the palace, all that was left to do was wait.

  Rayne

  “She’ll be fine. Dehydration and exhaustion. Nothing a little rest won’t fix.”

  “Are you sure? One hundred percent? Does she need the hospital? She’s with child.”

  I could hear voices around me, but my eyelids were too heavy to open.

  “Your Royal Highness, she’s being properly cared for here.”

  Royal Highness? That woke me up in a hurry. My eyes flew open, and I tried to sit up.

  “Whoa, Rayne. You’re okay. Lie still.” A deep voice tried to reassure me.

  “What?”

  “Thank God, you’re awake,” a female voice said from beside me.

  “Meghan?”

  “Yes, Rayne, it’s me.”

  “What happened? Where am I?”

  “I’m afraid I scared you half to death, and you passed out. I’m so sorry.”

  “Passed out?” I tried to think about the last thing I remembered. The black car, running, trying to catch my breath.

  “That was you? In the town car?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank God.” I relaxed, then I remembered why I was in the industrial park in the first place. “Ghost!” I sat up, not caring the prince had asked me not to move. He could’ve been the King of . . . well, England, and I wouldn’t have cared. “I need to find Ghost. Now. Right now.”

  “Slow down,” Harry soothed. “I’ve placed a call to him. Tell us what happened.”

  After explaining everything from the beginning, not leaving anything out, Harry cursed, and whether it was from relief at being safe or shock such a sophisticated man could utter such profanity, I fell back on the bed and laughed.

  “Are you sure she’s okay? I think she’s gone mad. Why is she laughing?” Harry asked.

  His concern made me laugh harder until Meghan joined in the hilarity.

  “Harry, I think she’s laughing at you. I hardly think she was expecting you to say fuck.”

  “And why the bloody hell not? This is a clusterfuck, as Ghost would say. He has to be out of his mind. And why the hell is no one calling me back?”

  I stopped laughing when he reminded me how worried Ghost had to have been.

  “Please help me find him,” I begged.

  “Tomas, please contact Chief Young. I want every resource used to find Keane Bryson within the hour. After you make the call, take Lucas and go look for him.”

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

  “I’m so sorry to put you through so much trouble.”

  “No trouble,” he told me.

  “Where am I?” I finally looked around the room, soft yellow walls and a four-poster bed, complete with a canopy. The large windows were covered in draperies, the fabric complemented the soft, soothing tones of the room. A salmon colored love seat sat in front of a magnificent fireplace. And, finally, the largest mirror I’d ever seen majestically hung above the mantelpiece.

  “Buckingham Palace,” Meghan answered.

  “What?” I was back to sitting. “I’m not allowed to be in here.”

  “You are allowed to be wherever I see fit. Meghan and I are going to step out so you can speak to Dr. Stanly in private. He says you’re fine, however I’d like him to check you once more now that you are awake.”

  “Wait.” Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Please don’t be offended, but I don’t know how to properly address you now that we’re not in private.”

  “Sir will suffice since we are in the palace.” He looked almost embarrassed. “Meghan is to be addressed as ma’am.”

  “Thank you, sir, for all your kindness.”

  He started for the door when Meghan leaned close and whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For all the formality. I’m still just Meghan—your friend.”

  “Actually, you’re my super-secret-duchess friend.” I laughed. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “Right place, right time. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  She followed Harry and quietly clicked the door closed behind her.

  I hoped someone found Ghost soon. Now that I was safe, I was even more worried about his state of mind.

  Ghost

  It was dark. Fucking dark, and Rayne was somewhere walking the streets. I was getting ready to come unglued. No, that wasn’t true, I’d lost my sanity hours ago. Tex still hadn’t picked Rayne up on any of the CCTV cameras around London, and Oliver and I had started at the intersection the cabbie had given us and worked our way out and still hadn’t found her.

  Oliver’s phone shrilled, breaking the silence of the car.

  “Your Royal Highness. Now is not a good— What?” The car came to a screeching halt and Oliver made a very illegal U-turn down a one-way street and accelerated at a speed that had me pinned to my seat.

  “What the fuck?” I barked.

  “Yes. We’ll be right there.” Oliver disconnected and tossed his phone in the cupholder.

  “What is it?”

  “Harry has Rayne.”

  “Where? Is she okay? How did he find her?”

  “Buckingham Palace. His physician has seen her, she’s fine. And I don’t know.”

  “Physician?”

  “That was all he said. She’s worried sick about you and wants you now.”

  “She’s worried about me?”

  “Hold on, mate, this is going to be like the good old days, minus the Taliban shooting at us.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t he call us?” I asked, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Shit, mine’s dead.”

  “I’m afraid there is no service in most of the old buildings. And I didn’t exactly want to waste time checking my voicemail when we left. My fault, Mate.”

  “Nothing’s your fault, Oliver. Thank you for all your help.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I would’ve been nervous with the way Oliver was driving if I hadn’t been so eager to get to Rayne. Red lights were ignored, he drove on the wrong side of the road, and even used the bike lane to get around traffic. We were in a high-speed chase without the chase. I white-knuckled the oh-shit bar to my left and fought the urge to close my eyes as he continued to weave through traffic. With each revolution of his tires he brought me that much closer to
my wife.

  He barely slowed as he approached the back entrance of the palace, the large, golden gates were open and ready for our arrival. He pulled around, coming to a stop under a large, stone archway. The prince appeared in the open doorway, worry etched in his face.

  I pushed the car door open and bolted across the tarmac toward Spike. Oliver didn’t bother turning the car off when he, too, jumped out and jogged the short distance.

  “She’s safe and resting upstairs,” Spike said immediately, trying to placate me. “I’ll take you to her.”

  He led us through a staff kitchen to a set of stairs, taking two at a time until we came to a landing with a closed door that read: First Floor Gallery. Before he opened the door, he turned to me.

  “She’s very worried you’re upset with her.”

  “Upset? I’ve been scared to fucking death all day. My heart feels like it's been ripped from my chest.”

  “I’ll let her explain what happened. But I want to warn you, she has an IV. Just to rehydrate her. I insisted it stay in until you got here even though she complained she felt fine.”

  I closed my eyes and wasn’t sure if I wanted to weep with joy or go back to the room with the taxi driver and beat the hell out of him some more.

  “Thank you,” I choked out. “I owe you my life.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. What are mates for if not to watch out for one another?”

  “Thank you all the same.”

  “It’s my pleasure. Come, I’ll take you to your sleeping beauty.”

  He opened the door leading to a grand lobby, and I tried my best to stand tall and look respectable. I wasn’t sure if I was pulling it off or not, and if I had to guess it would be a negative. All I wanted was to see Rayne.

  Spike opened the door, and there she was sleeping in the middle of a huge canopy bed, looking every bit of the princess I knew she was.