The Royal Elite: Mattias

by Bourdon, Danielle

  Slowly, she faced him. Found his eyes again. “No, I'll agree to that, at least. It's not clear cut or easily defined. So,” she paused, then continued, “what's next? Where do we go from here?”

  “I need to find a payphone and call Ahsan. Right now, we need information, so it's a risk we'll have to take. Then, I'm thinking we find a safe haven for us to recover in for twenty-four hours or so. We'll get new clothes, I'll contact your father, and we'll arrange the most convenient meet up point.”

  “That sounds like the only plan that makes sense. Are you certain we wouldn't be safer staying on the move?”

  “I'm not certain of anything, Alannah. The situation is too fluid. All we can do is try to stay a few steps ahead of the enemy until we find out who is behind this.” He couldn't give her anymore reassurance than that. Ahsan, Chayton and Leander were hard at work, he knew, digging up whatever leads they could. Possibly questioning the kidnapper and Cleary.

  “All right. Whatever you think is best. I guess we should get going.” Alannah took a step toward the SUV.

  Mattias set a gentle hand on her arm, waited until they made eye contact to say, “Thank you for stepping in last night. For having the guts and wherewithal to get away from the others.”

  For not letting him fall out the window to the asphalt after he'd been drugged. That act in itself—the drugging—was another oddity that he didn't mention to Alannah. Why not just shoot him if they wanted Alannah that bad? Why the caution? It could have been his status that saved him, considering what hell Latvala would rain down on his killers. Sander, his brother, would hunt the assassins until he found them. Maybe the men hadn't wanted that kind of international attention.

  “I might not be happy with all of your choices, Prince Mattias, but I wouldn't let you die without a fight. You're welcome.” Blinking the sun from her eyes, she regarded him a moment more, then eased her arm from his lax grip.

  Mattias let her go. For now, he welcomed the minor truce.

  With a wary look around the park, he made his way back to the vehicle, intent on departing before unexpected—and unwanted—visitors arrived.

  Chapter Ten

  Alannah stared out the window while the Spanish scenery whipped by. It was a blur of color, made up mostly of deep yellow, dark green, terra cotta and occasionally a blip of red. She had no idea where they were at this point with her helter-skelter flight last night and Mattias's penchant for taking every back road he could find. They stopped twice, once to gas up and another for food. Mattias used a payphone attached to the side of the gas station to call his friends, and no amount of coaxing from her would get him to tell her what he knew. Or where they were going, for that matter. Along the way, he'd stripped his tuxedo jacket again, leaving him in the crisp shirt of white and black slacks that fit him better than she wanted to admit. He'd been forced to remove the shoulder holster, too, so that no one would see it.

  The sight of the ocean perked her interest and she sat straighter in her seat. She knew from the drive time that they must be facing the Atlantic or the Bay of Biscay. To reach the Mediterranean, they would have had to drive for days instead of a handful of hours.

  Expecting Mattias to pull up at another ragtag hole in the wall, she was surprised when he cruised onto the property of a very ritzy looking hotel. He self parked instead of driving to the valet service, shut off the engine, and glanced across the SUV.

  “We'll be staying here for today, perhaps tomorrow.”

  “Isn't this conspicuous? Won't someone recognize you and turn you in?” she asked, gaze dropping to the vee of his open shirt. When she realized what she was doing, her attention shifted back to his face. He was watching her with an unreadable expression.

  “Turn me in to who? The assassins? If the random passerby knows who is out to get you—and now probably me—then we're in a lot more trouble than we expected. It's possible someone will recognize me, yes, but they most likely won't recognize you, which is why you'll go inside to the desk and ask for the manager. He'll give you a room key, that's all. No questions, no paperwork to fill out. Use the name Ruby.”

  “Just Ruby? No last name?” Alannah couldn't argue that no one would likely recognize her. The pictures the media picked up of her were always either shots that didn't really resemble this Alannah, or ones where she was hiding behind hair and dark glasses. It was rare they paid any attention to her anyway—she just wasn't great media fodder. Scandal didn't follow her around everywhere, and she wasn't the type to go looking for it just to see her face on the cover of every magazine.

  “No. I'll be waiting here, so come right back. The only way to the rooms is through the foyer and an emergency exit, so we'll need to hit up a nearby store for sunglasses and a hat along with new clothes. That should be enough to disguise me on the off chance someone knows who I am.”

  “Today and tomorrow,” she said, repeating how long they might stay. She heard his reply about the disguise, filing the information away for later.

  “Yes. Is that inconvenient?”

  “No. You're going to great lengths to get me home safe. I would hardly complain about that.” And it wasn't a lie. Mattias had better things to be doing, she was sure, than to sneak her through a foreign country and hand her off to her father.

  “Not enough time?” His voice dropped an octave. Suggestive.

  Alannah imagined him using that tone on the blonde woman which served to remind her how annoyed she'd been—how annoyed she was—about that. To make matters worse, she still wasn't sure what to think about how the Prince came into her life. By clandestine means, yes. But was he telling the truth about knowing her? Beyond what he needed to protect her? She couldn't deny the sparks between them, the chemistry.

  Judging by the blonde's lusty cries, there had been no lack of chemistry there, either.

  Irritated that she continued to relive it, she got out of the SUV without another word. Straightening her dress, feeling conspicuous in such an expensive gown, she cut through the parking lot toward the front entrance of the hotel.

  The entire way she could feel Mattias staring at her back. Good. Let him stare.

  Just as Mattias said, there was no trouble obtaining the key card to their room. The manager pretended like nothing was out of order and the other two employees never looked her way. If they did, they hid it well. She exited through the double sliding doors, passed under a breezeway covered in bougainvillea, and walked back to the SUV. She caught Mattias's eye coming around the front of the truck. He wore a thoughtful expression, following her progress until she was sitting next to him once more. Wordlessly, she handed the key card over.

  Disregarding it, he started the SUV and got them on the road again.

  Alannah regretted the new silence, the new tension. Or did she? The complicated situation gave her a headache. Sliding the key card into a drink slot, she pulled the seat belt on and cast a wary eye to the city at large.

  Their adversary could be anywhere, ready to surprise them at a moment's notice. Alannah discovered she didn't feel as safe as she'd hoped by putting a couple of hours driving time between the park and here.

  The only thing that made her feel halfway secure was the man behind the wheel. One glance across the seats assured her he was currently as irritated with her as she was with him.

  She wondered when—not if but when—their volatility would come to a head.

  While Alannah shopped in a small, nondescript store, Mattias thought about his conversation with Ahsan. With power finally restored at the manor, he'd made contact with his brethren. The desert dweller had informed Mattias that the second chase car, disabled by Ahsan and Chayton's bullets, proved to be empty by the time the two men arrived. Two or three assassins had scrambled overland in the dark, escaping through the terrain with enough skill to elude capture. The initial kidnapper, taken to an area hospital, wasn't talking. No one could get close enough to press him in the ways that would make him spill everything, not with security hovering right outside the pa
tient's door.

  Ahsan and Chayton were using Morano's manor as a staging area while they contacted Alannah's father to make transfer arrangements. Ahsan had also used his connections to secure the room at the ritzy hotel for he and Alannah.

  Revelers of the gala continued their illustrious party, none the wiser to the drama on the distant road leading in. Cleary and the unnamed stranger they suspected might be a hit man were being watched closely, while the roster of guests and staff went through rigorous scanning to see who, exactly, had been using fake names.

  So far, Ahsan hadn't heard from Leander, either, and Mattias couldn't decide if that was a bad or good thing. Leander, more than capable in his area of expertise, could be hot on a fresh lead and unable to take calls. Or, he could have whatever information he'd found and be on his way back to Spain. Either way, Mattias wasn't concerned. Leander would call when he could, or simply show up out of the blue as he was often fond of doing.

  What bothered Mattias more than anything at the moment was the sense that he was missing something important. A vital clue, or clues, something subtle that would help him understand what was going on.

  Something about the whole set up seemed...off. His instincts told him there was more to it than met the eye.

  Before he could delve too deeply into more internal speculation, he saw Alannah emerge from the store. She had two large bags in hand and had taken the opportunity to use the dressing rooms to change. Gone was the glittery gown. In its place: jeans, a short sleeved white tee shirt and bright white sneakers. A turquoise visor cast a shadow across half her face and dark sunglasses covered her eyes.

  “Find everything we needed?” he asked after she got in.

  “Yes. You'll have to change in the SUV, but I've got clothes that should fit you well enough.” Alannah set one bag on the back seat and the other on her lap. Rifling through, she pulled out a baseball cap with a skein of blonde hair attached to the inside. The kind people wore as jokes or at Halloween to complete a costume.

  Mattias laughed. “You've got to be kidding.”

  She reached over and carefully pulled the ball cap onto his head, covering his short, dark hair. Only the neck length blonde showed in back.

  “Dead serious,” she said.

  “I look like my brother.” Muttering, amused, he accepted a pair of sunglasses she offered over and added those to the guise. He thought he heard her stifle a laugh.

  “It's very...unique,” she said.

  “All we need is a Volkswagon van, a painted on peace sign and tye-dye shirts.” He snorted, started the SUV, and cruised out of the lot. Her laughter was just the icing on the cake.

  “I wish I had a camera.”

  “There is no way I would allow you to take a picture of me like this,” he retorted. While they talked, he kept an eye out for a tail, at the faces along the sidewalks on either side of the street.

  “What if I won another game of chess?”

  “We have no chess board.”

  “Poker, then.”

  “No cards.”

  “I can get some if you stop at a different store.”

  “Do you even know how to play?” Mattias arched a brow and glanced across the SUV. Alannah looked startled at the question.

  “War?”

  He laughed. “So you don't know how to play poker. You would have lost your pants if I'd said yes.”

  “It can't be that hard. Plus, I believe in beginner's luck.”

  “You still have to know how to play. Either way, you're not getting that picture.” There were only so many sacrifices Mattias was willing to make.

  “Afraid the world might see that the mighty Prince has a humorous side?”

  “The world already knows more than enough about me. They can wonder about my humor—or lack thereof.” Pulling into the hotel parking lot, he chose a vacant spot close to the front doors and shut down the SUV. He wanted close access should they get unexpected visitors here, too.

  “When you let your hair down, you're not so bad.” Alannah gave him a lopsided, cheeky grin, grabbed the bag on her lap, and exited the SUV.

  Mattias rumbled a low laugh, left the hat in place, and moved from the front seat to the rear. Finding several articles of men's clothing within, as well as undergarments and toiletries, he changed out of the tuxedo suit and into a pair of black cargo pants with several extra pockets to stow things in. They were well made, the kind of pants he might wear on a mission. He replaced the white silk shirt with a black tee, traded dress shoes for athletic trainers and put the ridiculous hat back on. After sliding the sunglasses into place, he tucked the tuxedo garments under the seat and disembarked.

  Meeting Alannah at the front of the SUV, he followed her inside with his bag in hand. Another couple at the counter helped provide distraction from the staff while they traversed the hallway to the elevators. Alannah urged him on, however, once the steel doors came into view.

  “I asked for a room on the ground floor. Figured it might be faster to get away if we need to.”

  “I suppose it doesn't matter.” If they had to fight, they would, regardless of the floor or location.

  Like any other standard room, this one had a single queen, one dresser with a television attached to the wall above, a small table with two chairs and a decent sized bathroom. What set this accommodation apart from the rest was the quality. Extra robes had been folded atop the dresser and the wood of the headboard was well made and expensive. The bathroom sported a jacuzzi tub with jets, marble counter top and framed mirror.

  Dropping his bag by the dresser, Mattias removed the hat and glasses and tossed them on the desk. Running his hands through his hair, he turned to find Alannah unpacking her things. A few items went into a dresser drawer, the rest she hung in the small closet next to the bathroom.

  He was struck by the sudden desire to be somewhere else with her. Some place he could really dig beneath the surface and learn all the facets that made Alannah up. There was a lot more to this woman, he suspected, and wished for nothing more than time to see what she might show him. Maybe a cottage on the beach in the Maldives or a secluded getaway on the Aleutian Islands.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, breaking his reverie.

  Mattias smiled and shook his head. “Nothing. I'm going to take a shower while I have time.”

  Alannah eyed him like she wanted to pry at his mind and see what was inside. Instead, she surprised him by saying, “All right. I'll keep an eye out. I'm sure you're exhausted, after staying awake all night and then driving for hours. Should I order up some food? We can eat once I get my shower and then I'll sit up while you sleep.”

  Even Alannah didn't feel a total sense of ease this far from the former altercation. It told Mattias that she still felt hunted—because they probably were. Although he was as tired as she suggested, he would never admit it. Sleep at this point was critical, however, which was why they were here in the first place. He couldn't keep going at this pace and remain as sharp as he needed to be.

  “Fish or chicken for me. I'll be out shortly.” Mattias snagged his bag of clothes, a robe and headed for the bathroom. On the way by, he glanced at the bed.

  No wonder she hadn't protested at the lack of two separate accommodations. Only one of them at a time would be gracing the sheets. Wondering at the stab of disappointment he felt, he disappeared into the bathroom.

  “You know, even when you're sitting there in a robe, cutting a piece of chicken, I can't forget you're a Prince. You have a definite bearing about you that never really goes away.” Alannah wasn't sure why she blurted that across the table. She glanced at his plate of parmesan chicken, then her steak, and finally at his eyes. It was the truth, however, one she wouldn't back down from. There was something regal in the way he sat, the way he ate. Hell, even the way he cut his meat. Not dainty, never that, but...refined. As if he was a well oiled machine in better control of his body than most humans.

  “It's my upbringing. You learn it
from a very young age and it stays with you.” He arched a brow, then brought a piece of chicken to his mouth. His dark hair, still wet from the shower, had been left to dry at haphazard angles. It was short but not too short, and easily put into place by the rake of one hand.

  Alannah wondered what it would feel like between her fingers. A traitorous thought, considering she was still angry with him. Wasn't she? “Maybe. My father has always had money, and surrounds himself with affluent people, but you're different.”

  “Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?” he asked.

  “That's the second time you've mentioned it. Yes, I do. I can't help myself, I guess. Does it offend?” She chewed a piece of steak and tried not to think about what he was, or was not, wearing under the robe. Choosing boxers for him had been far more intimate than she'd imagined it would be. What if he wasn't wearing any at all?

  “If it did, I wouldn't be here.”

  “Does that mean you would have pawned this job off on one of your acquaintances?” Alannah held up a hand, palm out, to ward off anything he might say. “I didn't mean that in a snarky way. Really.”

  “No. You've irritated me plenty of times, and here I am.” He toasted her with his water glass.

  Alannah, taken aback by his own bluntness, laughed. Relieved that particular look hadn't crossed his face when she knew she annoyed him, she said, “So it was the luck of the draw.”

  She also noted how he avoided speaking more about his acquaintances. Alannah couldn't resist testing him, asking questions about his friends to see if she was right in her theory that they were as involved in this thing as he was.

  Trying to get information out of Mattias was harder than she expected it to be. And what was with the way he suddenly stared down into his water glass before he had a drink? As if...thoughtful? Alannah couldn't quite pin down his expression. Was he wishing it was wine—or maybe something stronger?