Royal Ransom

by Susan Kearney

  Suddenly a terrible thought struck her. They’d all assumed that her father’s assassination last year had been solved and that Nicholas’s and Ericka’s problems were over. But with the recent shooting at her and Alexander, palace security was looking for a conspiracy. However, those shots might have had nothing to do with their former problems. Suppose someone wanted to stop her from her work?

  Hunter reviewed another portion of the tape where Alexander sat and another where he stood. “Does he always pull up his slacks before he sits?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Now tell me what has you frowning so hard you’re going to put a permanent crease in your forehead.”

  She saw no harm in sharing her thoughts. After all, if he was to protect her, he needed to understand palace political intrigues. “Next week, our cabinet is voting on some issues dear to my heart. Women’s rights.”

  “And?”

  “I was wondering at the possibility of someone who opposed my ideas maybe trying to silence me by shooting me.”

  She thought he might slough off her idea and was pleased when he took her seriously. “Are tempers running high over these issues?”

  “Very high.”

  “Okay.” He handed her a pad of paper and a pen. “Make a list of everyone who opposes your views.”

  She didn’t bother reaching for the pen and paper. “Everyone but Nicholas and Alexander opposes my ideas. Even my stepmother, Sophia.”

  “Sophia is your father’s widow and second wife?”

  “Yes. She believes a woman’s place is in the home.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I believe a woman’s place is anywhere she wishes to be.”

  “Even in the military?”

  How easily he’d put his finger on the crux of the problem. “General Vladimir is adamant that no woman shall ever serve. He won’t even speak with me about the subject, but…”

  “But?”

  “I have a meeting with his aide, Major Stephan Cheslav, and am hoping he’ll help me to change the general’s mind or to at least soften his hard-line stance.”

  “Who else is resisting?”

  “The secretary of state, the chief economic adviser, even our press secretary.”

  “Are any of their personal positions threatened by the changes you’d like to make?”

  “I have no idea, but that’s a good question to keep in mind as I speak with them next week.” She eyed him with amazement as he placed another tape into the VCR, his movements so like Alexander’s she became distracted.

  Between the cosmetic changes to his body, Alexander’s clothes and now his careful study of movement, he really looked like her brother. Funny how she hadn’t seen the similarities earlier. He and her brother shared the same proud nose, aristocratic cheekbones and facial structure. The Americans had chosen their man carefully and well.

  At a knock on the door, she jumped, nervous that anyone would interrupt them. Hunter wasn’t ready for company. He had yet to master Alexander’s voice and speech patterns.

  “If you were with your sick brother, who would answer the door?” Hunter asked, reaching toward his luggage.

  “I would.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  From one of his bags, he removed a black semi-automatic revolver. He held the weapon as casually as she ate dinner with a fork. The thought only increased her nervousness. They walked through the apartment to the front door, her heart tripping in her chest.

  Hunter flattened himself against the wall and motioned for her to open the door. She did as he suggested, wondering if the food she’d ordered earlier had finally arrived. Her stomach rumbled in hunger and she pulled open the door.

  Instead of someone from the kitchen, a servant offered Tashya a bouquet of flowers. “Highness, these might perk up the prince.”

  “Thank you.” She accepted the bouquet, shut the door, and sniffed the fragrant flowers.

  Her eyes widened with alarm. “They’re ticking.”

  Chapter Three

  “We’re out of here.”

  Terror froze Tashya’s feet to the floor. Hunter ripped the ticking bouquet from her hands and tossed the flowers into Alexander’s foyer closet. After opening the apartment door, he shoved her through, then slammed it behind them.

  “Run.”

  Hunter grabbed Tashya and pulled her down the private corridor. Together they tore down the empty hall, Hunter talking the entire time. “When we meet up with security, you have to do all the explaining. I’ll pose as Alexander, but I can’t be caught speaking. Tell them I have laryngitis.”

  How could he so calmly plan their next move when they might soon be dead? Any second she expected to hear the roar of an explosion behind her. Her heart thudded so loudly that she felt a rushing in her ears. Her lungs burned for air, and her scalp broke into a sweat.

  After they rounded the corner, Hunter slid to a stop in front of an intercom. “Inform security of the problem.”

  She slapped the toggle. “This is Princess Tashya. Get me the chief of security. Now.”

  Two seconds later Ira’s steady voice responded. “Yes, Highness?”

  “There’s a bomb in my brother’s quarters.”

  “The king’s?”

  “No, Alex’s. We’re both in the—”

  Thunder cut off her words. Hunter flattened her against the wall, protecting her with his body. With his chest pressed against her back, his hips tight to hers, he clasped his hands on her shoulders, but she’d never felt less safe.

  Hot air surged down the halls and bits of plaster rained from the ceiling. Chandeliers shook, their crystals tinkling ominously. A Monet painting crashed to the floor, setting off an alarm. Smoke billowed down the hall like grasping tentacles.

  Through the heat and smoke of the storm breaking around her, Hunter cradled her protectively. “We’re going to be fine. The bomb wasn’t big enough to do much damage.”

  Not much damage? She shuddered.

  “When Ira gets here, ask him to find out who delivered those flowers to the gate and which guards inspected the vase before allowing it into the palace. Also, where are the men who are supposed to be guarding your apartment? I want to know every person who had contact with those flowers.”

  Hunter probably issued more instructions, but when she started to shake so hard she almost bit her tongue, she couldn’t concentrate on his directions. Twice this week someone had tried to kill her. While he might be accustomed to this kind of harrowing fear, she wasn’t. She’d started to tremble and couldn’t seem to stop. Nausea made her head reel and her stomach cramp.

  Someone was trying to kill her.

  The bullets fired at her had seemed unreal. She’d heard the shots, but her brother had kept her safely on the carriage floor. This time she’d held a ticking bomb in her hands. If she hadn’t smelled the flowers, she might be dead.

  She swallowed hard, refusing to be sick, but couldn’t quell her trembling. “I’m cold.”

  “You’re in shock.”

  In one swift move, Hunter swept her into his arms. Surprised, she didn’t move a muscle. He’d lifted her as if she weighed no more than fluff. She should protest or throw her arms around his neck to hold on, but she concentrated on breathing. This might be the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her, but she was too damned upset to enjoy the simple pleasure of a strong man’s arms around her. She just prayed she wouldn’t be sick all over him.

  Away from the smoke and dust, Hunter found a window seat, and gently set her on it. The setting sun shot rays of orange and gold through the window and reflected a cheerful rainbow on the walls, reminding her that although the world looked pretty and peaceful, there were hidden dangers in these palace walls.

  Dizzy, she swayed. Her vision blurred.

  Hunter forced her to place her head down between her knees. “You’ll be okay.”

  “Sorry…to be…so much…trouble.” She took several deep breaths. “Thank you for saving my life
.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  He sounded so cold, yet his gentle hands on her shoulders were warm and comforting. The contradictions about him made her wary, and he rattled her in a way that made her uncomfortable.

  Without him, she might be dead.

  She had to pull herself together. She figured she had maybe sixty seconds before security showed up. By then she had to be strong enough to talk for both of them.

  “I was so scared.”

  “Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid of a ticking bomb, and one thing you’re not is a fool.”

  But she felt foolish. She was perfectly fine. She didn’t even have a scratch, but she couldn’t stop shaking. “I froze when I heard the ticking.”

  “Don’t second-guess your instincts. You ran when you had to. You did exactly what you needed to do to save your life.”

  She sniffed back tears. She wasn’t going to cry. At least not until she reached her own room where no one would see her break down. She might feel as weak as a newborn, but she had some pride.

  Hunter had come through for her when she’d needed him. Now, she had to gather enough strength to protect his cover. Slowly she raised her head and saw Ira heading directly toward them. To a stranger the palace security chief might look fierce, but she welcomed the appearance of his craggy face and stern visage.

  “Are you both all right?” Ira asked, seemingly not the least suspicious of Hunter aka Alexander. Tashya wondered, not for the first time, if Nicholas should replace their chief of security. Ira was getting old, but he’d been one of her father’s closest friends and these days, they needed loyalty as much as they needed top-notch security. Ira looked her over for injuries. “Do you require the royal physician?”

  “We’re fine. I was just a little dizzy for a moment,” she said, “and Alex still has terrible laryngitis. He can’t talk, but we have no need for the doctor.”

  “Highness, can you tell me exactly what happened?” Ira asked, motioning several of his men toward Alex’s apartment. “Don’t touch anything until I arrive. Just cordon off the area,” he instructed his men before turning back to her.

  Tashya thought she saw Hunter’s approval of Ira’s orders—maybe he was still doing a decent job under difficult circumstances—then Hunter squeezed her shoulder in a brotherly fashion, encouraging her to speak. Most of her trembling had ceased, but she still felt weak and light-headed.

  Ira looked at Alexander, and she licked her bottom lip and cleared her throat, calling the security chief’s attention back to her. “As you know, Alex has been sick. I was visiting. A servant knocked on the door and I opened it.” She deleted the part about Hunter staying out of sight with his weapon. She wondered where he’d hidden the gun but didn’t dare look at him.

  “Did you recognize the servant?”

  “Yes, but he’s new, and I don’t recall his name.”

  “Go on.”

  “I accepted the flowers and sniffed them. That’s when I heard the ticking inside the vase. Alex grabbed the vase, dumped the flowers in the front closet and got us out of there fast. We ran a safe distance, and then I called security and the bomb went off.”

  “How much time went by between your accepting the flowers and your fleeing Alex’s quarters?”

  “Maybe a minute? Why?”

  “I want that servant found. And where were the guards posted outside Alex’s door? You didn’t see them when you ran out?”

  “I didn’t notice if the guards were there or not. I assumed the servant must have taken the hallway that leads back to the central offices.”

  Ira’s radio beeped. He removed it from his belt, held it to his mouth. “Yes?”

  “The guards are dead. And we think we found the servant who delivered the flowers, sir.”

  Beside her, Hunter tensed. However, he remained silent and in absolute princely character.

  “I want to question the servant right away.”

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible, sir. He’s dead, too.”

  IRA LEFT HUNTER and Tashya alone in the corridor. Tashya’s color was finally returning, but she still trembled, although she bravely tried to hide it. The princess had done a fine job of speaking when she’d had to under the most difficult of circumstances, and his respect for her rose a notch. Unfortunately he couldn’t allow her to rest for long. His role needed much more study and practice before he could afford to go public as the prince. The sooner he could move back into the private areas of the palace, the better.

  But he also had pressing concerns about how Ira intended to investigate the bombing. Hunter itched to see the scene of destruction, to search for clues and to do a background check on the dead man.

  After looking around carefully to make sure no one would hear his words, Hunter spoke softly to Tashya. “Are you up to walking?”

  She hesitated and bit her bottom lip. “I’m not sure.” However, she shoved herself to her feet with a determination that no longer took him by surprise.

  “I need to see Alexander’s apartment.”

  “Why?”

  “Bombs always leave pieces behind. It’s like a fingerprint or a signature—unique to their makers.”

  “Alex would never go back to investigate—”

  “I know.” Her brother probably wouldn’t worry over his possessions or the mess. Possessions could easily be replaced and servants would clean up his mess. Others would repair the damage—all without the prince having to lift a finger.

  “It’s Ira’s job to—”

  “Yes. But who oversees Ira?”

  “You suspect Ira might have—”

  “Who would find it easier than your security chief to plant a bomb in Alex’s quarters?”

  “I look at you and see my brother, but Alex doesn’t ever think the way you do.”

  “And how do I think?” he asked curiously.

  “You evaluate everyone with new eyes. While we’ve known the security chief since we were children and implicitly trust him, you are suspicious.”

  “Now you understand why Nicholas insisted on bringing in an outsider.” He imagined she’d find it painful to suspect old family friends, relatives and trusted servants, but he figured she needed to hear the truth.

  “Until we find the bomber, we have to suspect everyone.”

  “Well, you also have to act like a prince, and Alexander wouldn’t immerse himself in the middle of Ira’s investigation.”

  “Would he return to his apartment for some clothing and personal items?”

  She shook her head. “He’d send a servant.”

  “Think. You know him well. I need a reason Alexander would go back to that room.”

  “If he were worried about the royal treasure…”

  “What treasure?”

  “There’s a safe in his suite where he keeps diamond-studded cuff links, assorted emerald and ruby rings, a diamond-encrusted watch and several jeweled daggers.”

  “Good. Where’s the safe?”

  She didn’t even hesitate. “Behind a picture of our father and mother in his bedroom.”

  “Perfect.” He held out his hand to her. “Let’s go.”

  She looked at his hand, but didn’t take it. “But you don’t know the safe’s combination.”

  “True.”

  He said no more, unwilling to tell her about skills she might consider unsavory. His princess had had quite enough shocks for one day. He waited, hand outstretched, and finally she took it.

  “Every time an attempt has been made on my life, I’ve been with Alexander.” She walked beside him, dropped his hand and linked her arm through the crook of his elbow.

  The corridor remained empty. Hunter supposed Ira had men blocking off the area while he conducted his investigation. The privacy allowed them to speak without being overheard, but even so, he kept his voice low. “It could be a coincidence that you happened to be with your brother. Or maybe someone wants both of you dead.”

  She frowned. “For a while I thought that
perhaps someone wanted to stop me from my work—but Alex has nothing to do with it. And the flowers weren’t sent to me, but to Alex…”

  “Yes. But whoever sent them may have guessed you would answer his door. We cannot rule out the possibility that someone wants to stop you.”

  She pulled herself up straighter and her voice strengthened with resolve. “These issues are important to me. I won’t give up.”

  “You may have no choice,” he cautioned her mildly.

  “There’s always a choice. I won’t be cowed by—”

  They approached a side corridor, and she glanced down the hall to find Ira standing over the dead body of a servant. Between two gloved fingers, he held a tiny object up to the light, then slipped it into a plastic bag. When he saw them approach, he casually pocketed the bag.

  While the gesture could have been completely innocent, Hunter’s instincts kicked in. Was the security chief simply doing his job? Or was he hiding evidence?

  “Find anything?” Tashya asked, doing her best to look anywhere but directly at the body.

  “I don’t think the explosion killed him,” Ira told them. “I won’t be sure until after the autopsy, but he has one hell of a bruise on the back of his head.”

  “Couldn’t he have been struck by flying debris?” Tashya asked, and Hunter realized she was feigning interest for his sake—and doing a damn fine job of asking the right questions.

  Ira nodded. “That’s what we thought.” He spread out his hands. “But we found no object that could do that kind of damage beside the body.”

  “Could he have been struck and then staggered here?”

  “I’m afraid not. From the angle of his neck, I believe it’s broken.”

  The servant could have been part of a conspiracy and killed by a cohort, but Hunter suspected the servant was an innocent. After he’d unknowingly done his dirty deed and delivered the bomb, he’d been murdered so he couldn’t be questioned. Probably by the same person who’d planted the bomb in the flowers.

  Right now, all they had were dead ends.

  THE FULL FORCE of the bomb had blasted out from the foyer closet and toward the central palace corridors. As a result, beyond the demolished front entrance, Alexander’s quarters had suffered relatively minor damage.