The Ambassador's Daughter

by Theodora Lane

  “Sgt. Fitzsimmons, my driver, was killed instantly, and I was…inconvenienced,” she corrected her father with a wave of her hand toward her ear.

  “Luckily, she'd the presence of mind to pull her Taser, and when the attacker came over to check the vehicle, she shot him.” Butler sounded proud of her actions. She wished she could feel the same.

  She closed her eyes. The horror of the scene played in her mind. The flash of the explosion. The sound wave rocking the car. Silence. The sergeant’s destroyed body in the front seat. His blood all over the front windshield and on the seat next to her. She’d sat directly behind him, leaning into the corner, and his seat blocked the explosion and the spray of bloody matter from touching her evening gown.

  Utter silence echoed. A moment later, everything sounded as if she was underwater and an intense pain in her head made her faint. A man, disrupter drawn, walked up to the car. Deafened, she desperately searched for her purse on the floor of the vehicle. Her shaking fingers clutched her evening bag, pulled it open to find her Taser. The door opened…

  “What happened to your attacker? Who was he?” Captain Stuart asked. He scraped the remains of the hearing aid into a small envelope and sealed it.

  “A jihadist who’d been smuggled onto the planet. He was executed,” Brett replied. “On Alpha V, they use hanging.”

  Ambassador Butler frowned at his daughter. “I still wish you hadn’t gone to the execution, Brett. Hanging is an ugly death. You shouldn’t have watched it.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and then she shook her head. “Not as ugly as Sgt. Fitzsimmons’s death, and I was a witness to it.” She addressed William. “You see, the sergeant’s mother asked me to stand with her during the execution. She had no one else on Alpha V. Her son died in our service, it was the least I could do for her.”

  William turned to the guard who fired the Taser and motioned him forward with a small movement of his index finger. The guard holstered his weapon, stepped up, and awaited his fate. He appeared no older than she, and despite his efforts to hide it, she could see he was frightened.

  She cleared her throat and spoke, “Your Highness, I must commend your guards. It is obvious to me they are highly trained. You’re fortunate to have such men attend you. This officer didn’t hesitate to act. In other circumstances, a fatal mistake. ‘Shoot first, ask questions later’ can be the only policy. It’s certainly one I’ve employed.” She rubbed her temple, then continued. “I also thank him for having his weapon set on low. Now, the only question is whether I live or die.”

  “What are you talking about, Brett?” her father asked.

  “Dad,” Brett said, keeping her gaze locked with William’s. “It’s a crime to draw a weapon in the presence of the king. The penalty is death.”

  Her father’s face registered confusion, then reddened as he turned toward the king. “You can’t seriously think she meant to kill you, do you? If you think I’ll let that happen—” Butler’s voice rose. Fists clenched, he stepped forward. The guards edged closer, hands on their swords.

  Brett reached out to him. “Dad.” If she didn’t diffuse this situation, her father might only make it worse. What would her mother do? Demand? Reason? Charm?

  He ignored her. “If you’re planning to drag my daughter out into the street and have her beheaded over this—” His brows furrowed in concern, but his eyes burned with determination. “We have diplomatic immunity.”

  “Dad, you have diplomatic immunity. I have only the king’s grace,” Brett reminded him as she looked to the king with a hopeful smile. Charm it is. Her grip on Stephen’s arm tightened, praying she’d made the right choice. This better work, if not…

  William’s lip twitched in a smile and then straightened. “It is true, Miss Butler.”

  Brett saluted her father smartly and in a loud stage whisper she said, “General Butler, I fear we’re surrounded and outnumbered.”

  Butler paused. He blew out his breath and then gave a soundless laugh. His body visibly relaxed as he moved to parade rest. Clasping his hands behind his back, he looked as if he still stood on the bridge of his star destroyer awaiting a briefing.

  “Well, Major, what do you propose?”

  “You take the 1000 on the left, I’ll take the 1000 on the right,” she said.

  After a beat, they both burst into laughter, followed by William himself. The tension broken, the entire group of onlookers joined in.

  “Please, there is no need for such tactics,” William said, holding up his hands as if to ward them off. “Between the two of you, my guards wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  Brett grinned, knowing there was a lot more truth to his statement than even he realized. Now, reason. “Perhaps, Your Highness, since I didn’t actually ‘draw’ so much as ‘display’ a weapon, we could call it a case of”—Brett searched for the right words—“indecent exposure?”

  Stephen took Brett’s hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, holding her possessively at his side as they awaited the king’s decision. She didn’t fight her body’s urge to lean into him.

  Beatrice placed a hand on William’s arm, leaned in, and whispered in his ear, and Brett held her breath.

  “Indecent exposure, yes. A much lesser crime.” William nodded.

  Stephen motioned to the case on the ground. “Is the rifle really what it says on the brass?”

  “Oh, yes. It was presented to one of my father’s forefathers by Teddy Roosevelt, a president of the United States in the early twentieth century. Captain Jonas Butler was one of his Rough Riders in the Spanish American war. There were only ten such presidential rifles issued, and only two survive. I pulled this one out of the Smithsonian. I thought it would be much more appreciated here. They never display it anyway.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  Motioning for a guard to retrieve the case and hold it up, William undid the latches and opened it. His eyes shone as he traced the etching with his gloved fingers.

  “It is magnificent. It will add to my collection. I thank you. And I do apologize for any ‘inconvenience’ my guard may have caused you,” he said with a tilt of his head.

  “What am I going to do with you?” Butler reached out and touched Brett’s cheek.

  “Well, at least I didn’t have to shoot my way out this time. Done it before, not fun,” Brett whispered a loud aside to him.

  She turned back to William. “We’ve taken up so much of His Majesty’s time. The line behind us must be growing long, and we should move to the other room. I would like something cool to drink and some fresh air to clear my head.” She curtsied to William and Beatrice. Butler bowed.

  Stephen, still holding onto Brett’s arm, gave William and his cousin a brief bow and led the Ambassador and their small party out.

  Brett clutched her escort’s arm, thankful his arm was still wrapped around her waist. Good Lord. It could have been far worse. The shocked expressions of the people staring at her as she passed made her revise her thinking. She’d nearly caused a major incident because she’d underestimated the reaction of the guards to the display of a weapon.

  With her heart sinking, head pounding, and stomach unsettled, she knew her mother’s size seven high heels were still far too big for her to fill.

  Chapter Five

  Stephen led her to several chairs against the wall near the windows and she sat, as Stephen, Helena, and her father surrounded her.

  “Brett, are you going to be all right?” her father asked.

  “Yes. Go on. I know you’ve got people to see. I’m going to stay here out of the way.” He gave her a quick peck on the check and moved off.

  Helena slipped into the chair next to her. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything…”

  “So disastrous?” Brett finished. Helena gave her hand a squeeze.

  “Stephen. Get Miss Butler something cold to drink, please.” She gave him a hard look, and he nodded and fled. Brett marveled at the woman’s ability to order and be obeyed. Maybe she’d been
mistaken about the New Commonwealth women?

  An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

  “Do you ride?” Brett asked, searching for something in common between them.

  “Yes, I do. Well, not much anymore, I’m afraid. You?” Helena asked.

  “Yes. I brought my horse, Black, from Earth with me. Would you like to see him?”

  “Your horse?” She smiled. “Do you have vids?”

  Brett nodded, pulled a minivid out of her pocket, and opened the case so Helena could see Black.

  “Johann, Brett has a horse. She brought him all the way from Earth,” Helena told her husband as he approached them.

  Brett held out the vid, displaying moving images of her horse. Johann leaned in and gazed at the animal.

  “What breed is he?”

  “Appaloosa. His name is Butler's Black Gold, out of Butler’s Black Diamond, by Gordon’s Gold Dust. He’s ten years old. I was there the night he was born.” She didn’t hide her affectionate smile at the animal. He was solid black except for an artist’s brush splatter of white spots across his rump.

  “Those are unusual markings,” Johann noted.

  “The spots are the Appaloosa trademark.” She turned off the vid and closed the case.

  Stephen arrived and handed her a glass of cool water. She smiled at him, took it, and sipped. He stood in front of her, watching her every move, as if his life depended on it. She finished the glass and gave it back to him. He placed it on a nearby tray of empty glasses and plates.

  “What I would really like is some fresh air to clear my head.” She sighed as she rubbed the back of her neck. The Taser’s effect had worn off, but left a residual ache.

  “Miss Butler, if you’d allow me?” Stephen offered her his arm again. “The palace gardens are truly lovely.”

  She hesitated, stood, and then slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. He covered it with his hand. It was warm and reassuring. She took a deep breath and settled herself.

  “Sure. It’d be nice, Lord Brandon. Will you excuse us?” She turned to the others. They nodded and backed away.

  Stephen guided her away from the group, out of the nearest set of open doors into the gardens, and down the lighted path. Tucked under a vine-covered arbor nestled a small wooden bench. She sat, and Stephen slid onto the bench next to her. His thigh rubbed against hers, but she made no motions to escape his touch. A touch that made her body heat. I must be feeling better.

  So unlike General Mace on Alpha V, the last man who'd touched her. She’d tried to be open to his proposal of marriage, but every time she looked at Mace, he reminded her of a toad, a huge man with no neck and jowls.

  But for her father’s sake, she’d tried. She even let the general kiss her, knowing if she agreed to marriage, it would be kisses and more she’d have to endure. She found it so repulsive she feigned a choking fit to end it.

  Then he’d put his hands on her breasts. Not as if she’d never had a man touch her before, but he’d just done it. As if he'd every right. It infuriated her and she reprimanded him for it. He’d clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes. Warning bells went off in her head, and she refused him the next day by console. He didn’t deserve to be refused in person.

  Now she sat beside Stephen, feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time. Giddy and nervous, she remembered this feeling from her younger years, when she’d first discovered boys and later the pleasure of being with a man.

  Placing his fingers under her chin, he turned her head to face him.

  “Miss Butler,” Stephen whispered. His gaze started at her eyes and eventually focused on her lips. He touched her bottom lip with his thumb and a jolt shot straight through her.

  She hadn’t felt this…aroused with Mark, one of the young officers she’d first served with, during their brief affair. She’d found Mark charming and fun to be with and they had the military in common. For a summer, they couldn’t stay away from each other, until he’d received his promotion and transfer. She never asked him to stay, knowing he wouldn’t have turned it down. It hadn’t been love for either of them, merely convenience and comfort. And sex.

  Since then there'd been little comfort or sex.

  Stephen leaned closer. Brett closed her eyes and waited, her breath stilled, for contact. Soft lips pressed against hers. Withdrew and kissed her again. He brushed his lips back and forth against hers. A chain of gentle kisses followed, each kiss leading to the next.

  She was no stranger to sex, to giving or receiving pleasure. Each of his kisses made her body tighten and ache for more. Had it been so long since she’d enjoyed being in a man’s arms? Brett slipped her arms around Stephen's neck and pulled him tightly to her body. She wanted more than just a few gentle kisses. She touched her tongue to his lips, requesting to be let in.

  He gasped, and she took advantage, took control. Exploring his mouth with her tongue, she found the inside of his lips, his tongue. She pulled his tongue into her mouth and sucked it, and he moaned. She felt the pull of his body’s heat down to her core, making her pussy clench. He tasted of the wine he’d drunk, the mint of his toothpaste, and something more.

  He met her fervor with heat of his own. His hand combed through her hair as he pulled her closer. Arousal swept through her, building deep within her.

  “Lord Brandon,” she whispered as their lips parted. She'd felt the kiss all the way to her toes and back. She wanted to feel it again and again. And more. Now.

  He looked at her, eyes wide, his lips swollen from their kisses, and most definitely aroused, by the bulge in his trousers.

  What am I doing? What must he think of me?

  This wasn’t Earth where sexual enjoyment between lovers was common. This world ran on different morals and values. Women on this planet were refined, shy, and retiring.

  She was no prude, but even back home she’d never jumped into anything. She’d been willing but cautious. She meets Stephen, and wham! She’s thinking of how it would be to have him in bed, making love.

  She’d just met this man and knew nothing of him. Only that his kisses drove her crazy, made her want him. She shouldn’t rush into anything. Oh but she wanted to rush, wanted to lose herself in Stephen’s arms, in his kiss, in his body. Feel him thrust into her.

  She pulled away and swallowed. “Lord Brandon, I shouldn’t be out here kissing you. I’m really not like this. I don’t even know you.”

  “Well, what do you want to know?” He chuckled.

  “The kind of things I can’t learn by kissing. In the moonlight. In a beautiful garden.” She waved a hand.

  “And I hardly know you. And yet, you’ve swept me off my feet. Ask whatever you want.” A set of deep dimples flashed in his cheeks, and her heart skipped a beat. She needed to get a grip on her emotions, but if he smiled at her again, all bets were off.

  She slapped her hands to her knees and sat up straight. “All right. Let’s start with the basics. How old are you?”

  “That’s easy, I know this one. I’m thirty-four.” Good Lord, was starlight twinkling in his eyes? The flirt.

  She made a serious face and nodded. “Thirty-four. For a man, a stream, a river, a torrent of experience could pass under his bridge. Just exactly how much water has passed under your bridge?” She leaned back to look at him.

  “A river in my younger days. Now, a mere trickle.” He pushed an unruly lock of hair off his forehead. “And may I ask a question? If we’re being honest.”

  “We are and you may.”

  “Has much water flowed under your bridge?”

  “Honestly, my experience is more like a babbling brook.” She shrugged. “I dated a bit before I went into the military. I’ve been in one long-term relationship, but it ended. A mutual decision. Lately, I’ve been too busy traveling with my father.”

  “Oh. Relationships. I haven’t had too many of those.”

  “But, you just said…” Brett caught his meaning. “Just sex, huh?”

  He blinked at her, o
bviously surprised at her boldness. “Yes. As you say, just sex. Nothing more.”

  “So is it just sex you want from me? Or something more?” She needed to know where she stood so she could adjust her feelings and stop this downhill rush she was on. If he wanted an affair, she might agree, but his kisses made her long for more.

  He cupped her cheek and tilted her face upward, gazing into her eyes.

  “I’m in desperate need of something more.” He rubbed his thumb across her cheek.

  She wanted more of him, his lips, and his hands on her body. His body covering her body. Enmeshed and entwined. “Just how many hearts have you broken?”

  “A few, I admit. But it was long ago. Now, I’m immersed in my work. And you? Broken a few hearts?”

  “Not that I’m aware. And I’ve never had my heart broken, either. I really don’t want to ever have it happen.” How would this would end? Hot sex, sweet promises, and then heartbreak?

  Fear raced through her at putting her heart out on a limb, with no net below to catch her when she fell.

  “So, what you’re asking is: what are my intentions?” He gave her a charming smile again, and something inside her melted. Good Lord, the man was dangerous.

  “Intentions? Can you have any? We just met.” She cocked her head at him.

  “And yet, you have swept me off my feet. I’m smitten by you.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been smitten before, Mr. Brandon. What makes me so…” Brett struggled to get the words out.

  “Special? Intriguing?” He gazed deeply into her eyes. “There are depths in you I wish to learn. You baffle me, charm me, like no one else has ever done.”

  “Depths, huh?” Brett grinned.

  “Let me court you, Miss Butler.” He laced his fingers with hers and brought them to his lips for a kiss.

  “Court me?” She sat up. What is the man talking about? This is not what she expected. Sleep with her, perhaps. Have an affair, a fling, but court? Who did those things anymore?

  “Yes, court. It’s where a man and a woman spend time together to see if they can have a deeper, permanent relationship,” he explained.