by Dana Marton
Because that was the rebels’ purpose. She couldn’t forget that, not for a second.
She heard noise up ahead, at last.
Only one set of footsteps. Could be that Benedek escaped, too, and was coming for her. Please, dear God, let that be the case. She’d had some time to think about it and she believed now that if he could, he would come for her. He’d been nothing but protective toward her from the beginning. She’d just needed to get used to the idea and accept it. He was so much more than another rich guy looking for a trophy date. He was—
“Benedek?” she whispered, and she could see the flashlight of that other person now, a slow-moving shadow behind it. The size and shape looked about right.
“Benedek?” she asked, louder this time.
The man stopped. “Miss Williams?”
The voice was familiar, but she held her rifle ready to shoot as she walked closer. Then she could make out the man at last. One of the guards who’d originally walked into the tunnel system with her and Benedek. Vilmos, if she recalled the name correctly.
“What are you doing here? Where are the others?” Hope leaped with unreasonable speed. If she found the royal guards, they had a pretty good chance of saving the prince.
But Vilmos hung his head, a miserable expression on his face. “All lost. We split up to find the way out and I never saw them again.” He looked up. “But I think I found the exit.”
“How? Where?”
“I was in the Army for a while back in the day. We did some exercises down here. I recognize this section of the tunnels.”
“Thank God.” She slung her rifle to her back over her shoulder, beyond ready to get out of here. But they couldn’t leave yet. “The rebels have Prince Benedek. They’re ahead of us.”
“I’ll keep you safe and get our prince back, Ma’am. Don’t worry. We’ll get out,” he said.
Yet another offer of help and support. Maybe Benedek was right and she needed to lower her walls a little and give people a chance.
“I’m out of bullets. I’ve run into a couple of rebels and had to fire my weapon,” he said.
“Thank God you made it.” The sentiment was heartfelt, but she didn’t hand over her rifle. She’d only had minutes to feel safe and she needed to cling to that a little longer. “This way.” She turned left at the junction where Benedek and she had been separated. “If you take your shoes off, we can go faster without them hearing us.” The pain of her battered feet was nothing compared to the danger Benedek was in.
They took off their shoes and began running as silently as they were able. When she thought she heard something, she grabbed Vilmos’s arm and signaled him to be quiet.
A scraping sound came from somewhere ahead. The sound of something large being dragged.
Her breath caught, her heart about broke. If she was late…She couldn’t think about that, nor about why the prince was so important to her all of a sudden, why she felt a weight inside her chest so heavy she could barely breathe around it.
She moved forward at a slower pace and Vilmos followed. She turned off her flashlight and motioned to Vilmos to do the same. Not a minute too soon. After a few more steps, they could see the light from the men ahead and their dim outlines far ahead in the tunnel. They were dragging someone between them. The body seemed completely lifeless, the legs dragging along the stone as two men held him under the armpits. Benedek.
Her heart lurched, then seemed to stop for a long second.
Vilmos extended his hand toward her silently, his expression urgent.
The rifle.
He had to be a better shot than she was.
She slid the weapon from her shoulder and was about to hand it over when one of the men up ahead turned and spotted them. He shouted in German.
Rayne squeezed the trigger, aiming high, way above Benedek’s head. Entirely by accident, she hit one of the men.
The next second Benedek straightened from his prone position and threw himself on the guy closest to him. He kept that one busy, but the third man was now shooting at Rayne.
So she shot back as she ran forward. Vilmos grabbed her to hold her back, keep her safe, but she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to. A wave of adrenaline pushed her forward. She registered that Vilmos flattened himself against the wall for safety and stayed put, but she had to keep moving. As bullets kept flying toward her, she squeezed the trigger over and over again and kept running.
When she was close enough, she tossed Benedek the rifle and hit the ground. Just in time. A bullet flew above her head, so close that the wind of it moved her hair.
All flashlights were on the ground now, all the light at ankle level. She could barely see Benedek as he knocked out his man at last and shot the other without a second of hesitation. Then he was at her side, pulling her up.
“Are you hit?” He ran his hands over her, then crushed her into a tight embrace, kissing her forehead with brusque urgency and aiming to kiss lower.
She wanted that so badly that it scared her. So on reflex, she ducked away from him. “Are you hurt?”
He watched her for a second in the dim light, his gaze unreadable. “No.”
Thank God. She could have just as easily shot him as she’d shot the rebel. She was a forty-year-old opera singer, not some commando babe. What had she been thinking? Tremors ran through her now that the fight was over.
“Your Highness.” Vilmos approached them at a run.
She pulled away from Benedek. She’d nearly forgotten that Vilmos was even there.
“Where were you? Where are the others?” Benedek asked as he stood. He let Rayne go and moved to collect the weapons from the fallen men. Vilmos helped him, arming himself in the process, explaining what had happened since they’d separated.
She picked up the flashlights. She needed the security of light, the more the better. A weapon against the darkness for at least a little while longer. “He knows the way out.” She remembered the most important news at last as she pulled her silk slippers from the back of her waistband and put them on.
“Let’s go.” Benedek grinned, his shoulders relaxing at last. He clapped Vilmos on the shoulder. “You lead the way.”
For a moment, the man looked hesitant. Probably worried that he might make a mistake in front of the prince. Probably embarrassed, too, that he’d stayed back while Rayne had run into a hail of bullets.
Rayne gave him an encouraging smile. She’d only run forward because she wasn’t disciplined enough to remain still and cool. She’d panicked and run toward the only person she trusted—Benedek. At one point, after they got out, she needed to think about that.
“You know the way. Just lead,” she told Vilmos.
He nodded and started out at a good clip suddenly.
“How far?” Benedek asked, keeping close to Rayne.
“Half a mile,” Vilmos responded.
“Where does the tunnel lead?”
“Statue of the Fallen Soldier.”
That seemed to give Benedek pause. “I never heard of an entrance there.”
“It hasn’t been used in decades.” Vilmos glanced back. “Back in the day, during the Cold War, it was top secret, used for underground military exercises. From what I recall, they thought it was just a few miles of twisting tunnels. I don’t think they realized it was connected to the catacombs.”
And maybe they weren’t back then, Rayne thought. A wall that had collapsed over the past few decades may have made that connection possible.
They weren’t running, but walked as fast as possible. She ignored her aching feet and kept up with the men. She was in the middle, Benedek protecting her from behind. She wished he would take her hand again like before, but they all held flashlights and a weapon at the ready.
Vilmos took the twists and turns without hesitation. Not that they got anywhere. Just when she began wondering whether he really knew the way or was just showing off for the prince, they finally came to the end. Unfortunately, the exit was blocked by a steel door, which was g
uarded by half a dozen rebels.
BENEDEK SHOT IMMEDIATELY AND indiscriminately. Both Rayne and Vilmos hit the ground as soon as he fired the first round, so nothing obstructed his way. They fired from the ground, not hitting much from what he could tell.
The rebels sent back a hail of bullets.
Benedek went down on one knee to present a smaller target. He was a good shot, had always been a good shot. He and his brothers had practiced almost daily with their father’s hunting rifles since they’d been children, holding competitions in the summer.
When all the rebels were down at last, he rushed forward, putting himself between them and Rayne, Vilmos coming up next to him, rifle ready. If any posed further threat, he would take care of that. But as he examined the bodies, it was clear that Benedek’s aim had been true.
Vilmos stepped back. “Miss Williams?”
“Fine. Thanks.”
Benedek glanced back and saw that she was standing again. He turned his attention to the rebels. He didn’t know any of these either. Whoever the man was with that familiar voice he wasn’t among them. Four men, all dead. He relaxed his shooting arm. No further danger would be coming from these men.
Peril came from behind him instead.
“Benedek!” Rayne shouted at the same time Vilmos said, “Drop your weapon, Your Highness.”
He spun around, bringing his weapon up, his body going rigid at the sight that greeted him.
Vilmos held his gun to Rayne’s head. He must have taken her by surprise, because she hadn’t even had time to slip her rifle off her shoulder.
Benedek’s blood ran cold. The rebels’ inside man had been a royal guard. Dammit, he should have figured this out earlier. Betrayal tasted bitter in the back of his throat. “Think about this,” he warned the man.
But Vilmos looked grim and set on his path.
All those men who’d turned up dead in the opera house…Vilmos had access to all of them. A royal guard. “Why?”
“I don’t want to retire to a hovel, having to count out money for my dinner.” He sneered. “A concern you wouldn’t understand.”
Maybe he was right about that. But Vilmos had been paid an honest wage for less-than-honest work. There were other ways to improve his finances, if he wasn’t satisfied, besides treason. But this wasn’t the time for Benedek to point that out. “If it’s about money…”
“Too late to negotiate, Your Highness. I have to ask you to drop your weapon.” He kept his rifle pressed against the back of Rayne’s head.
Benedek tossed his gun to the ground. “You need only me. She’s just been a tool from the very beginning. She’s been through enough. She’s nothing to you. Let her go and you’ll have me to do with as you please.”
“I’m more comfortable with not leaving witnesses.”
“Then why did you save her?” She’d been carried off by one of the rebels, then came back with Vilmos.
The man laughed. “She saved herself. Another reason I’m not about to turn my back to the American vixen.”
Benedek looked at her. He shouldn’t have been surprised. She saved herself then came for him, beating him to the punch. He’d been just coming to, making a plan to get away from the rebels and go find her. But she’d gotten free first. And somewhere along the way, Vilmos ran into her. The thought that he could have killed her then and there sent a chill through Benedek. Thank God, since Vilmos wanted to know which way Benedek had been taken, probably to hook up with his buddies, he had to keep Rayne a little longer.
“Take off your tie,” the bastard ordered.
Benedek obeyed.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Again, he did as he’d been asked.
Vilmos took Rayne’s rifle, then handed her the flashlight. “Hold that.” He moved to tie Benedek up, but Rayne was faster.
She hit the man with the flashlight, with a resounding thud over the head.
Vilmos went down, firing at Benedek even as he fell.
Benedek dived for the weapon he’d dropped just seconds ago, and fired back.
When Rayne dropped the flashlight, for a terrifying second he thought he’d hit her. “Rayne?” He rushed forward, his heart pounding harder in his chest than his feet on the stone.
“Here.” She lifted the light. “Sorry. I’m getting jittery.” The circle of light on the ground was trembling.
She was in his arms the next second, of her own will, clinging to him. He held her with his left, keeping the rifle on Vilmos who lay on the ground.
The man was deathly still. Blood spread on the ground under him, a black pool in the dim light. Dead or dying. Benedek waited a long second to make sure he wasn’t getting up. As Rayne’s soft curves pressed against his side, he could feel no regret for the man who’d nearly killed the both of them. As he walked to the door with Rayne, he had no thought other than that they were about to get out of here.
Of course, the door was locked.
Fortunately, it took only seconds to find the key in one of the fallen men’s front pocket. Benedek opened the door carefully, ready to shoot if anyone tried to stop him from leaving the catacombs. But the small glen was empty, nothing but the Statue of the Fallen Soldier in front of them. They were exiting through a maintenance hole below the statue complex.
Rain drizzled over a gray morning. But they were alive, and Rayne continued touching him, still clinging to his side. He grinned up into the miserable sky, then embraced her fully, turning her face up to his.
“Where are we?” She looked like she’d been rolled down some hillside, hair messy, face all smudged. But those full lips had never looked more tempting.
Cars passed outside the park, a few people were walking the grass behind a glen of lilac bushes in the distance. But his attention was on the woman in his arms.
“Heroes’ Park. A mile from the palace,” he gave his distracted answer. Then he kissed her.
And for the first time, she didn’t protest.
She was soft and yielding in his arms as he’d hoped she would be someday, turning his body hard in immediate response. He wanted her with a ferocious need. But she was just coming around. He didn’t want to scare her. So he held back, using every ounce of control he possessed. He gentled his kisses to a few exploratory tastes of her full lips, and cursed the circumstances that wouldn’t allow him time for a more thorough seduction.
He pulled away reluctantly. “We have to go. But I swear we’re going to finish this.”
Color tinged her cheeks as she visibly pulled herself together. “Now we ask for help?”
He wished the solution to their problems was that simple. “It would be better to find our own way to the palace. We should keep a low profile as much as we can. We don’t know who our enemies are.” Vilmos was a pretty good case in point.
He took her hand. Out of every terrible thing that had happened, what he hated the most was that she’d been in danger because of him. She was in the country because of him.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he promised, having no idea how he would accomplish that, only that he would.
The opera was probably surrounded by massive security, and every inch of the building was being searched to find them. The search teams had likely found the tunnel entrance in the basement by now, as well, and had gone in there. But finding anyone in the miles and miles of twisting corridors would be a slow and difficult task, so going back in there made no sense for Benedek and Rayne, especially with the presence of rebels. Their chances were much better on the surface.
She offered him a tentative smile that didn’t fool him. She was as aware as he that they were out in the open with no backup and possible secret enemies all around them. Vilmos had been a royal guard and still betrayed them. Were there others like him? They were still far from safety.
Chapter Eight
Luckily, they didn’t have to sneak all the way to the palace. They ran into a group of royal guards at the edge of the park and, to Rayne’s rel
ief, this batch was loyal to the crown. Apparently, one of Benedek’s older brothers had deployed them all over Palace Hill, knowing the catacombs had several entrances in the area. They reacted to the news of Vilmos’s betrayal with rage.
They escorted her and the prince to the palace under full guard in an armored car. Unfortunately, as soon as they got there, Rayne was separated from Benedek.
She was shown to an opulent suite with two maids at her immediate disposal. They offered her clean clothes and a bath. She would have preferred to go back to her hotel for her own things, but decided that freshening up wouldn’t hurt. She was filthy and bedraggled.
She allowed the young women to fill the tub and scent the water with rose petals. She drew the line at letting them assist once she was in her bath. In fact, she asked them to leave her alone for the next hour, promising to ring if she needed them.
Not that they could take a hint. She could hear at least one of them outside her bathroom, probably fluffing her pillows. She stretched out in the giant claw-foot tub, luxuriating in the hot, scented water that lapped her skin, rose petals circling her breasts.
Now that she was safe, their ordeal over, her thoughts kept circling back to Benedek. She did not want to want him. He was all wrong for her. They would have made a terrible, scandalous couple. Which didn’t keep her body from heating as his dark gaze floated through her mind. Just thinking of his sensuous mouth slanted over hers hardened her nipples.
He’d be back. He’d promised he would. The things he’d said…
As soon as we get out of the catacombs, I’m planning to make love to you.
A delicious tingle ran across her skin. Her limbs felt weak, and she had an idea it wasn’t just from her long soak in the hot water. Her will to resist him was just as weak. Weaker.
He might not come back.
Except, deep down she knew he would and it filled her with restless anticipation. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again, his hands on her skin…Excitement built inside her already, and for all she knew he wasn’t in the same wing of the palace with her.
She was making a fool of herself. She was certainly old enough to know better. She left the tub with a sigh and wrapped herself in a sumptuous robe, then towel-dried her hair. She was finger-combing it as she walked out of the bathroom.
