by Rita Herron
Darek muttered a rare expletive, a sign of his distress. “If Amir was inside the limo when it exploded, how could he have survived?”
“I do not have answers yet,” Stefan said. “The local police are investigating.”
“Didn’t they search the area?” Darek asked.
“Yes, of course.” Stefan sighed. “They found Amir’s cell phone. However, there were tire marks indicating another vehicle had stopped at the scene. It is possible there was a witness or that the driver helped Amir escape.”
“Then he could be in a hospital somewhere close by?” Darek asked.
Stefan swallowed hard. “Police have checked hospitals and emergency rooms, but there has been no sign of him. And thank God he hasn’t turned up at the morgue. But there is another possibility.”
“He was kidnapped,” Darek said matter-of-factly.
“Yes,” Stefan said, the very idea grating on his nerves.
“Although there has been no ransom call.”
Darek released another expletive. “I cannot believe this is happening. I warned Amir that traveling to the States was dangerous.”
“Yes, but we all thought it worth the risk.”
He only hoped they did not regret it in the end.
JANE WAS SHOCKED at how quickly Stefan managed to have his friend’s fingerprints and blood work sent to her. Fahad Bahir, Amir’s head of security and the agent coordinating the individual security teams, personally transported the file and insisted on watching as she processed the information.
His intimidating manner and perusal made her feel jittery, a feeling Jane didn’t like. This lab was her home, dammit, and she hated the way he filled the space. Tall with broad shoulders, and the body and harsh eyes of a bouncer, he looked threatening. Even more disturbing, she sensed he enjoyed intimidating her.
She lifted her gaze from the computer, and he was there, inches from her, his breath rushing down her neck, chilling her.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“The blood is a match to the blood on the seat,” Jane said, lifting her chin and forcing herself to face him. Nobody made her back down. Certainly not this bully.
“The prints on the phone matched Sheik Khalid’s as well.”
Fahad arched a thick brow. “And the tire tracks that belonged to the second vehicle?”
“An older model Chevy Suburban.”
“What else can you tell me about it?”
Jane shrugged. She didn’t understand why, but she’d rather discuss the results with Stefan instead of this brute. Still, he represented the royals, so if Stefan was in danger, she had to do whatever she could to protect the dignitaries. “Not much. Our lab is not high tech here, but the sheriff might be able to run it through the system and determine how many people own that type of SUV in and around the area.” She paused. “Of course, SUVs are popular in this state. And if this vehicle belonged to the bomber, it’s most likely a rental.”
“But it is possible to trace its whereabouts?” Fahad asked in a thick accent.
Jane nodded. “Might take some time, but it’s possible.”
He glanced at the test tubes and slides she’d studied earlier and frowned. “What else have you learned?”
Jane leaned against the counter, debating how much to share. There was something about one of the particles she’d found from the bomb site that disturbed her. Something she didn’t recognize.
Something that made her think military.
She had to talk to Stefan in private.
“I’ve told you all I know,” Jane said. “If we had the sheik’s phone, I could have checked his call log, determined if anyone had called prior to the bombing, if he received a warning or threat of some kind, but without it…”
Fahad’s dark eyes roved over her. Suspicious.
Then he gripped her by the arms with such force that she winced.
“You do not speak to anyone about this matter, do you understand? Our security depends on it.”
Jane glared at him, teeth gritted. “I understand. Now take your damn hands off of me.”
His gaze locked with hers, and for a brief moment, she thought an apology might come. But he released her abruptly and strode toward the door. Then he paused with one beefy hand around the doorknob. “Beware, Ms. Cameron. My job is to protect the royals and I intend to do just that.”
Jane gave a clipped nod, but held her breath until he exited. She watched through the glass window as he strode down the hall and stepped onto the elevator.
Then she grabbed the lab report and her purse and hurried toward the door. She had to talk to Stefan and see if he recognized this bomb material. She would not deal with that Fahad character again.
If this had been more than an attack on the sheik, if terrorists were involved, the danger might not be over.
STEFAN CONTEMPLATED his numerous enemies carefully before he listed them for fear of retribution and worsening relationships that were already on shaky ground once the prospects realized they were under scrutiny.
Yet Amir had been attacked and that attack might have been intended for the COIN members, so they could not discount anyone who opposed the U.S. meetings or had issues with one of the COIN members.
He jotted down the first name he thought of. Jarryd Isam, the head of the tourist trade for Kyros. Jarryd opposed the idea of oil mining on the island. Like Stefan’s brother Thaddeus, Jarryd feared mining would ruin the tranquility of the resort areas and pollute the air. He refused to believe that Stefan’s research team had discovered procedures to minimize the negative environmental effects.
Stefan had tried to convince him that the economic value would far exceed any negative effects, but to no avail. Jarryd hated the U.S. and opposed trade agreements with them.
Next on his list, Butrus El-Shamy, Daria’s brother and the next in line for leadership of their country when Daria’s father, King Nazim died. Prince Butrus was opposed to the arranged marriage his father wanted, and had other plans for their country’s resources, none of which included saving Kyros or dealing with the U.S.
Stefan believed that Butrus had secret intentions of supporting Saruk if Saruk overtook the smaller nations of COIN. But now Darek had assumed leadership of Saruk from his father Kalil, Stefan felt less of a threat. Darek had been friends with him, Antoine, Sebastian, Efraim and Amir for years. Together, they would find a way to make peace and work things out.
There were others from each nation who opposed the summit, his own brother included, but no one stood out. At least no one he considered a physical threat. Thaddeus was more of a wordsmith than a violent man, and if he was following his usual pattern, was most likely sipping scotch while his harem of women doted on him. Money and name bought material things as well as personal and sexual favors, and Thaddeus preferred the pampered life.
Antoine, Sebastian and Efraim each handed him a list at least as long as his.
“I’ll have Hector search through my correspondence and email for additional suspects,” Stefan said. “I suggest you all do the same.”
“Yes, right away,” Efraim said. “Then we can assign our teams to investigate each name.”
The men agreed, and Fahad gathered the lists to make copies and pass amongst the individual security team leaders. Hector coughed, and Stefan frowned. Hector was aging, and he’d sensed the man’s health might be starting to fail.
“Are you all right, Hector?”
Hector’s face blanched, and Stefan wished he’d refrained. His loyal servant had always hated having attention drawn to himself.
“Yes, Prince Stefan. Just a dry throat. Must be the climate here.”
Stefan nodded. Kyros did have the cleanest air he’d ever breathed, the climate here drier. But Wyoming breathed of wildlife and raw animal energy that made him itch to ride across the terrain undeterred by his country’s problems.
An image of Jane Cameron’s beautiful face flashed into his mind, and he imagined her hair blowing in the wind as she straddled a
thoroughbred and galloped across the land.
His body hardened at the image, and he shifted, determined the men in the room not witness his reaction. Without seeing Jane and touching her, they could not understand the sexual pull that gripped him each time he thought of her.
Outside, Stefan heard the sound of a helicopter roaring above and glanced out the window. A media chopper was circling the grounds. Blast. Was it that Danny Harold again?
Edilio had left to make a phone call but strode into the room. “Gentlemen, there is a protest march rallying outside the resort. It appears to be growing volatile. I suggest each of you retire to your quarters and remain there until the situation is under control.”
Stefan clenched his fists. He strongly opposed retreating like a coward.
His friends grumbled similar complaints, but filed out, and Edilio approached him. “Prince Stefan, Ms. Cameron phoned that she is on her way. She claims she has evidence she needs you to examine.”
Stefan’s heart began to pound. What if Jane was outside in that mob?
JANE’S PULSE RACED as she spotted the mob of protestors, a mixture of antiterrorists, anti Americans, Middle Eastern supporters, environmentalists and gawkers who simply wanted a peek at the princes and sheiks staying at the Wind River Resort. Shouts, curses of anger, vows of support, welcoming words, and hate words jumbled together, barely discernible with the roar of the helicopter above.
Sucking in a sharp breath, she parked, showed her ID to security, then elbowed her way through the outskirts of the crowd, determined to talk to Stefan. In all her years and even with the notoriety her own mother had attained through her connections, she had never seen such a controversial group of people. Cameras flashed, the crowd pulsing with anger, resentment, violent undertones and…awe.
The sun beat down on her as she muscled her way past the mob. She had just reached the front glass doors when a security guard stepped in front of her.
“No one gets in now, miss,” he said.
She flashed her badge. “I’m here to see Prince Stefan. It’s important. He should be expecting me.”
“Let me check.” He punched a button on his radio, and static sounded.
“Who are you, lady? You here to protect the terrorists?” an angry man shouted.
Jane touched her badge. “Settle down, sir. These dignitaries are not terrorists.”
“The hell they ain’t,” another man bellowed.
A big burly man in faded jeans with tobacco-stained teeth rubbed up against her. “Damn them foreigners.”
“We don’t want them here,” a man who reeked of beer yelled. “They’re trouble.”
“Stand back,” the guard shouted.
Unrest rippled amongst the group, the mob mentality escalating. Someone pushed another person, creating a domino effect. Jane felt the momentum as a stream of people lunged forward, smashing against the glass. The security guard reached for her arm to help her through, but another angry protestor shoved him, and he grabbed his baton and swung it up, then spoke into his mic.
“Everyone stand down or you’re all under arrest.”
The burly man who’d started the upheaval closed his hand around Jane’s wrist in a steely grip. She struggled against him, but he jerked her so hard, her body slammed into his, then he tried to drag her through the mob. Suddenly the glass door slipped open, another strong hand yanked her by the arm, and she stumbled.
“Let her go,” Stefan commanded.
“It’s the Prince!” someone screamed.
The mob pushed harder, and Stefan twisted the man’s arm, forcing him to release her. Jane flailed to keep her balance, furious and embarrassed, but Stefan dragged her inside and two security agents rushed to close the door and keep the mob at bay.
“Blast it, Jane!” Stefan barked. “You are going to get yourself killed.”
Even though she was breathing hard, anger surged through her at his tone. She tried to swing around to confront him, but he coaxed her away from the door.
“Are you crazy?” she shouted. “I’m supposed to protect you, yet you come to the door when there’s an angry crowd outside. You could have been attacked!”
Sweat beaded on his skin, and his eyes darkened with fury. “I was trying to protect you, Jane.”
She glared at him, but her heart was pounding from the ordeal, and when he hauled her into his arms, she collapsed against him for a moment. Her shaky breath rasped out, and she clutched his chest to keep from falling apart.
Outside, the shouting intensified, people pounded on the glass doors, stamping wildly. Police raced around in an effort to corral the unruly group and prevent more violence.
Stefan closed his arms around her, stroking her back, and despite her best efforts, her bravado slipped, and she clung to him.
“Shh,” he whispered against her hair. “I do not wish to see you harmed, Jane.”
Jane sighed against him. Defeated. Tired. A little frightened.
He was a prince, after all. Maybe the most admirable man she’d ever met. Certainly the most noble and chivalrous.
And how long had it been since she’d been treated like a woman?
Heaven help her. She gave in to the temptation, and allowed him to comfort her. She would only do it for a moment, she promised herself.
Just a moment.
Then she would pull herself together and focus on the case before she made a complete fool out of herself and fell for Prince Stefan.
STEFAN’S HEART was beating so fast he thought it might explode. When he’d seen that baboon’s hands on Jane, he had nearly come out of his skin with fury. He had never been able to tolerate anyone manhandling a female, and he certainly would not stand by and watch some slob maul Jane.
The stubborn woman.
He stroked her back, savoring the feel of her sweet curves against his. Her hair smelled like some exotic flower that grew on Kyros, invading his nostrils and sending a flare of raw longing through him.
But a loud noise startled him into looking up, and footsteps pounded. He spotted Edilio racing toward him, then coaxed Jane around the corner, out of the view of onlookers plastered to the glass doors.
Jane pulled herself together. “Stefan, I wanted you to look at this lab report and see if you can identify this particle from its composition.”
Stefan narrowed his eyes as he studied the report. “I can’t be sure, but it seems familiar. I could tell more if you allow me to look at it in the lab.”
Jane nodded. “We can go back now.”
Stefan took her arm, then turned to Edilio. “I am accompanying Ms. Cameron.”
“You must have security escort you,” Edilio said.
“I will be fine with Jane,” Stefan insisted. “She will protect me with her weapon, will you not, Jane?” He gave her a teasing look.
Jane’s lip curled upward into a wry look. “Of course.”
Edilio stepped in front of him. “No, Prince Stefan. You will not leave without a security detail.”
Stefan sighed, weary and hating to have anyone watch him with Jane lest they see his ridiculous attraction to her. But he would be a fool not to accept security—simply being with him might endanger Jane. And he could not live with himself if she were hurt because of him.
“Very well. Call Benito. I need you to start investigating that list of enemies.”
Edilio nodded, and radioed for his second in command. Benito appeared a moment later.
“You cannot go out the front, Prince,” Benito said.
Edilio frowned. “Take them through the back exit, Benito. I’ll create a distraction.”
Edilio headed toward the front.
Stefan held Jane’s arm, and they followed Benito down a hallway, along another corridor, then through a gigantic kitchen and out the back door where two limousines stayed parked for use by the royals. He and Jane slid into one, and Benito took the driver’s seat and drove through the back exit.
Benito utilized GPS to find an alternate route to the court
house where the lab was housed, and Stefan relaxed. “Are you all right, Jane?”
Jane had scooted to the opposite side of the seat as if she feared he had some disease he might give her. He did not know whether to laugh or throttle her.
“Yes.” She jerked her head to look out the window and remained stoic until they arrived at the lab. Benito parked behind the courthouse, and opened the door for Stefan. He climbed out then extended his hand to Jane. She studied it for a minute as if she intended to refuse, and he sighed.
“Come on, Jane, I do not have leprosy,” he said, his patience strained. “Let us hurry inside before the mob at the hotel discovers we left and someone tracks us down.”
A strand of hair fell across her face, and she swiped it back, then accepted his hand and crawled from the limo. Benito stepped to the side, hand at his gun, scanning the perimeter.
Suddenly a gunshot rang in the air. Jane startled, and Stefan grabbed her arm. “Get down!” he yelled.
She tried to jerk free, but he dragged her toward the door just as another gunshot ripped by her head.
Chapter Seven
“Stefan, get inside!” Jane shouted.
Stefan pushed her toward the entrance. “You first.”
Another bullet pinged off the concrete wall, and Jane scanned the streets and spotted a dark sedan in the alley. The shooter was hiding behind it, firing at them.
She quickly searched for Benito. No, God… Stefan’s guard was on the ground. Blood trickled from his chest.
She quickly retrieved her weapon, then shoved Stefan behind a streetlamp for cover. “Go inside now. I’ll cover you!”
“No, I have to save Benito.” Stefan lunged off the curb toward his security guard, but Jane caught his arm.
“Not until the shooter is caught,” Jane cried. “Go inside now and call 9-1-1.”
Another bullet zoomed near her head, and Stefan threw himself on top of her, knocking her to the ground.
“Dammit, Stefan, what the hell are you doing?”
