“For being here with me. For putting your arms around me when you knew I needed to be held for a moment.”
“I think in that particular moment, we held each other.”
“I think you’re right. Now smile, my dear. It’s time to be seen once more.”
* * * *
“You piqued Gina’s curiosity.”
Peter grinned. “No, I just became her hero for giving her the rest of the evening off. You don’t need her. I’ll be your lady’s maid for tonight.”
“Somehow, I don’t think her uniform would fit you.”
“Ha, ha. Now turn around.”
When she did, Peter tried to stop the trembling of his hands as he unfastened the buttons on her dress. Nothing had ever shaken him so badly as running into that salon and seeing Rachel in a crumpled heap on the floor. Once he’d unfastened her gown, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and held on.
“I’m all right, Peter.”
“Well, I’m not, so let me hang on for a moment, okay?” When she moved to turn around, he allowed it and sighed when she wrapped her arms around him. She shuddered once. The delayed reaction told him she understood how close she’d come to being seriously hurt. In this case, fear could be a good thing. Fear meant she’d be more careful, take his warnings more seriously. Or so he hoped.
“Are you going to come to bed with me?”
“In here?” He made a show of looking around at the decidedly feminine décor. Rachel chuckled, going up on her toes to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.
“Or your room. I don’t care which.”
“We can bunk here tonight. Why don’t you get into your pajamas, and I’ll have the kitchen send us up some tea?” He linked his fingers with hers, reassuring himself that she really was all right.
“I’d rather have something stronger than tea.”
“Not with the knock on the noggin you took. Do you have aspirin up here?”
“No.”
“I’ll have them send some of that up, too.” Leaning forward, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. It took everything in him to keep things light.
“Lady’s maid and nursemaid?”
He tapped her nose lightly with his fingertip. “Yeah. Deal with it. If you give me any trouble, I’ll have your brother come up and give you a shot.”
“Philip is a pediatrician.” Looking very beautiful and very annoyed, she folded her arms across her chest.
“And your point would be?” She was so easy to tease it was pathetic. When she simply made a face at him, then turned to pull a sleep shirt out of her drawer to take into the bathroom with her, he knew she wasn’t feeling as “fine” as she would have him believe. He kept his eye on the bathroom door while he called down to the kitchen with his request. He considered it a great personal sacrifice that he would drink tea with her instead of the shot of scotch he would have preferred.
When she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, he already had the bed turned down for her. Grumbling about such an early night, she nonetheless sighed the moment she lay down.
Peter waited until the tea and aspirin had been delivered, and partially consumed, before stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed with her.
“That’s better,” she said as she snuggled against him.
“It is. I’m not a fan of the formal state function.”
“Neither am I. But there aren’t that many in a year.”
He placed another kiss on her forehead. “I thought you liked the trappings of royalty.”
“Not really. Sometimes it’s fun to get all dressed up. And I did have a good time today with your maman and your sister. But the huge dinners—such a waste of food, as I only nibble a tiny bit of each course—and the balls where we’re obliged to dance with the guests, usually, no. They are work, and not the kind of work I like. The day after tomorrow, when I interview for my staff at the Couturier, there will be the work I choose.”
Which gave him, he mused, only twenty-four hours to make sure the building, and Rachel, was secure.
* * * *
So close. If only she’d been prepared to come face to face with the runt. Too bad, because if she’d been thinking, it could have all been over then and there.
So tempting. Giggling, she reveled in her own cleverness. They would never find her, never figure out who had given that bitch a shove. Oh, yes, she’d been brilliant! She’d been outside on the beach before they even knew what had happened. She had a good memory and had paid attention all those years ago. They’d never figure it out, stupid asses. They were like those old American movies of the comedy cops. They fumbled sloppily, relying on their high-tech toys instead of remembering low-tech tools.
Rubbing her hands together, she visualized the next steps she would take, oh, so very soon now. She giggled again, thinking of the exquisite scare they would all have received this night. Lying down in the sand, she turned her head to look across to the palace that gleamed so very brightly on the point. The lapdog had turned out to be more of a bull terrier than she’d anticipated. He’d charged to the runt’s rescue, the look on his face fierce indeed. He hadn’t even noticed her, although she had spied him from the secret place.
No one noticed her. That used to make her angry, but now she believed it was to her advantage.
Her thoughts returned to the lapdog. If he’d been a half a minute faster, he would have ruined everything. And we can’t have that.
No, we can’t have that. Frowning, she wondered. Maybe the lapdog was important to the runt. She couldn’t understand why anyone would be interested in that cheap whore in princess’s clothing, but he seemed to be. So, perhaps she should take him away, so the runt could suffer before the end.
The way Bjorn had been taken away from her.
Yes, that had possibilities. It didn’t matter how or where she did him. He wasn’t important. She’d had no plans for him, so she’d watch and wait for the perfect opportunity. Bjorn had taught her a few ways to cause pain, or damage. She’d be ready.
They would never know until it happened. And they would never guess it could be her.
Chapter 14
She didn’t allow the specter of failure to enter into her thoughts.
It had taken more work than Hannah anticipated, bringing together all the elements she’d needed for tonight’s dinner. Being a stranger to the country, she really had to search things out. She’d spoken to Robert, the palace’s head chef, who gave her some advice, and a lot of encouragement. She’d danced her way around Justin, determined not to let that man’s patronizing attitude discourage her. She could have gone to Peter, or even Alex for help, but a part of her had felt that would be cheating. She needed to do this on her own.
This evening would be either a roaring success or the exact opposite. But after everything that had happened the night before, tonight might provide everyone with something they desperately needed—time to be a family.
It must be very difficult to have to put on appearances twenty-four-seven, Hannah mused as she gave her chosen venue one last inspection. To have to stay in a room full of strangers and act like nothing was wrong when someone you loved had been hurt. If ever she’d thought that the life of a member of a royal family was all easy glamour, that idea was gone forever, now.
Hopefully tonight, the members of the de la Croix clan would see how being completely free of any kind of outside observance felt like.
She’d asked everyone to meet her here at six o’clock. At twenty minutes to, she wasn’t surprised when Alex arrived first. She smiled as he emerged from the palace, dressed as she’d requested in bathing suit and shirt.
“So these are the new acquisitions Justin seemed so apoplectic about.”
“They are. What do you think?”
He came over and put his mouth on hers. Hannah lost herself in his kiss, as she always did. Wrapping herself around him, she relished the strength of his arms, the spicy-fresh aroma that said pure Alex, and the belly-jiggling, toe-curli
ng heat that only this man had ever kindled in her. Her sex moistened, so trained her body had become to accommodating him. His hands on her bottom, lifting her against his aroused penis told her he felt the same.
“Hi, honey, I’m home.”
His whispered words made her laugh and she hugged him tighter.
“Rough day at the office, dear?”
His answering laughter eased her nerves. “Only the part that dealt with the latest letter received against Rachel. Now, tell me, what is it you have planned?”
She followed his gaze to the large, round table she’d had set up on the lawn about twenty feet from the outdoor pool. She’d needed a big one to seat everybody. She’d already set it with the most casual dishes she’d been able to find. A rectangular table held three large coolers. The other new addition to the pool area, a shiny silver outdoor grill, gleamed in the early evening sun. The monster looked a bit more complicated than her simple propane barbecue back home. But a grill was a grill, and she expected this new fancy one would cook her hamburgers and hot dogs as well as any.
“You told me, my first evening here, that you gather the family a couple of times a week for an informal family dinner. I thought I’d show you how we do that in Canada.”
“Does this mean that you are cooking for us?”
“It does. But it’s more than that. It’s just you and me and our kids tonight. No staff—well, at least not until we’re all through. So you catch a break there. I won’t make you cart stuff back inside and help with the dishes.”
“I think I might enjoy helping you with the dishes, whatever that is.”
Before Hannah could respond, Peter cleared his throat, announcing the arrival of the rest of the family, en masse.
“You wouldn’t be helping her, sir. Mom has a golden rule. She who cooks, cleans not,” Peter announced, winking at her.
“Division of responsibilities. I approve. Now, where’s the food?” Alex rubbed his hands together in obvious anticipation, setting the tone for the rest of the family.
“Oh, we don’t eat until after we play. Right, Grandma?”
“That’s right, Jamie.” She turned her attention back to Alex, who had taken off his sandals but not his shirt. She didn’t think he noticed how close to the edge of the deep end of the pool they stood, that by tiny increments she’d been moving them in that direction since he joined her outside. Now she said, sweetly, “Alex, did you mean it when you said that anything I wanted to do for tonight was all right with you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Uh oh,” Peter said.
“Mother, you wouldn’t!” Catharine said.
Alex must have read the intent in her eyes, for his widened, and at the exact moment she gave him a shove, he grabbed her hand and yanked her into the pool after him.
She surfaced the same time he did, and they both laughed so hard they had trouble staying afloat.
“Cannonball!” Jamie’s standard scream echoed seconds before a humongous splash.
Hannah watched as Peter scooped up Rachel, who laughingly threatened bodily harm if he threw her into the pool. Her younger son proved that he’d matured over the years by agreeing not to throw her in—and then stepped in with her still in his arms, instead. Philip and Catharine struggled to see who would toss whom in. And then, the biggest surprise, while Michael’s grinning attention fixed on his brother and Catharine, Sophie snuck up behind him and gave him a push.
“Is that how it is done?” she asked Hannah with a too-innocent bat of her eyes.
“That’s the way.”
Since they were divided equally between male and female, a game of keep away ensued with the huge ball Hannah had bought. It didn’t take any of the royals long to get into the spirit of having fun.
After a half hour, Hannah got out of the water and lit the grill. Peter joined her, toweling off and grabbing a shirt.
“Please tell me you made your potato salad and deviled eggs.”
Hannah chuckled, because she detected more than a hint of begging in his tone. “I did. Do you remember how to grill burgers, or have you been living the lifestyles of the rich and famous too long?”
* * * *
Alex had to admit, this was quality family time. Hard, he mused, to hold on to the formality of the life they’d always lived with everyone wet and playing in a swimming pool. The aroma of the cooking meat teased his senses and made him hungry. Tonight also marked the first time he’d drank beer straight out of the bottle, and he rather enjoyed the feeling it gave him.
They all served themselves, choosing their own buns, taking the meat straight off the grill, sampling the different condiments, scooping spoons of salad onto their plates, before sitting at the table and beginning to eat.
“Do you know how to make these?” Philip asked Catharine when he finally came up for air. He pointed to his plate that still held remnants of salad, hot dog, and hamburger. At her nod, he looked over at Michael. “We may sometimes invite you to dinner. If you play your cards right.”
The banter and laughter lifted his heart. Alex smiled over at Hannah, whose face flushed from her pleasure at all the honest compliments on her food.
She met his eyes, and her expression softened with concern. “So, what is happening with these letters threatening Rachel?”
Sophie chimed in. “Yes, that is what I would like to know. And what happened last night?”
Alex’s first reaction, to regret the loss of the lighthearted mood that surrounded them, only lasted a moment. He understood, then, that something else a family needed just as much as the laughter was to pull together and be a family in times of crisis.
“Peter, please fill everyone in on the details.”
He watched the faces of his family, he considered everyone seated there to be his family, as Peter recounted the threat. Philip swore and narrowed his eyes at Peter.
“Go ahead and pop me one. I’ll give you a free shot. That bas—” Alex nearly laughed when Peter stopped and shot a look at Jamie, who listened closely to every word. “That person,” he amended, “should not only have not been able to get in, but should never have escaped when we pulled the security net tight. I’ve spent the better part of the day reviewing the security films. Nothing. It’s as if that creep vanished into thin air.”
“Maybe he went down the pirates’ tunnel, Uncle Peter,” Jamie said.
A hush fell over the table.
“My God,” Alex whispered. “I didn’t even think—”
“Years ago, you forbade us to play there. Wasn’t it sealed up?”
“What pirates’ tunnel?”
Alex looked from Michael to Peter, the two questions having come almost at the same time, before answering.
“There existed, under the palace, a series of tunnels, dating back to the seventeen hundreds, emergency escape routes from the original fortress upon which this palace is built. Over the years, most suffered cave-ins in the sections that were away from the building proper. All except one. And no, while I do recall forbidding you children to play in them, I don’t believe I ever ordered them sealed.”
“We could ask Justin,” Michael said.
* * * *
Peter knew as soon as he stepped inside the passageway that this was how Rachel’s stalker had escaped. The tunnel had several entrances, he soon learned, one of them right inside the family salon. The bastard, he mused, had probably watched him rush to Rachel’s rescue, safely concealed behind the false wall that blocked the entrance to the tunnel.
After consulting with Alex, Peter had his team install cameras and motion alarms at critical points along the passage. He didn’t think the stalker would return, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.
They’d carefully dusted every entrance for fingerprints, but there hadn’t been any. The tunnel led to a copse of trees that formed a line above the family’s private beach. From the state of the trampled foliage and torn cobwebs, clearly someone had used the exit recently. Tomorrow, in the light of day,
his team would comb the area for evidence.
Now, hours later, Peter sat at his desk going over files he’d read a dozen times before, searching for that crucial something he must have missed. There had to be a way he could pinpoint the threat, find the bastard threatening Rachel. Finally, rubbing his eyes with a weary hand, he yawned, and closed the folder. Midnight had come and gone, and there wasn’t much more he could accomplish tonight.
His footsteps echoed in the corridor as he made his way to the main staircase. On the second floor, he paused outside Rachel’s door. She’d come upstairs hours before. He considered knocking, but then stopped himself. She’d likely be fast asleep by now.
Nothing he’d like better than to climb into bed next to her. The only time he felt completely relaxed and assured of her safety was when he had her tucked in next to him. But he thought he might be getting a bit greedy. Spending the night without her would probably be good. Stoically, he turned away.
He sensed her presence the instant he opened the door to his own suite. Her scent, a floral, fruity aroma, clung to the air, curious that it would both settle and arouse him at the same time.
He’d been sure after those first few frantic couplings his need for her would taper. Positive that they’d be out of each other’s systems quickly, that it didn’t seem to be so amazed him. In fact, that he needed her more each day alarmed him.
How would he bear it when she tired of him and wanted to move on?
Moving through his suite, he paused at the door to the bedroom. The light on the bedside table cast a soft glow over her. She’d confessed to him that the only time she’d been able to sleep with the light off in the last couple of years were those nights she’d recently spent with him.
Apparently, she needed him, too. Could he make himself so indispensable to her that she would want to stay with him, even after her passion, and her heart, had cooled? And how pathetic was that kind of thinking?
Rachel shifted in the bed, a soft groan whispering from her lips. Concerned, he quickly left the doorway and came to the bed. Dropping his clothes into a heap on the floor, he slid under the blankets beside her and gathered her close.
The Princess and the Bodyguard Page 11
