Harlequin Kimani Romance June 2017 Box Set

by Arthur, A. C.

  She held the box in one hand and slipped the bow off with the other. Then, after a deep, steadying breath, Sam opened the box. She gasped, loudly, and then clasped her lips shut as her head snapped up and she stared at him.

  “What did you do?” she asked him. “Why did you do this?”

  “A little birdie told me what color you were wearing tonight and I thought this might match. What’s the matter? You don’t like it?”

  Sam tilted her head and kept her mouth shut tightly. She was breathing a little faster now as she cursed the tears that were about to fall. With a quick shake of her head, she closed the box. “I can’t take this.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because.”

  Gary shook his head. “You can do better than that.”

  She sighed. “Because I cannot take this.”

  “Because you don’t like it?”

  “I love it,” she admitted quietly. “It’s beautiful.”

  “But you don’t want it? Or is it that you just don’t want it from me? I can give you a silly-looking orange elephant, but not an emerald and diamond necklace. Why? Do you not think I can afford it because I’m not some dignitary you’re used to smiling at during these endless events?”

  Sam was about to reply but then she heard his tone and wondered where it had come from all of a sudden. Since the first night they’d spoken to each other, Gary had always had a steely, noncommittal tone with her, and everyone else, for that matter. Just now, he sounded different. Irritated maybe?

  And, no, she recalled, this wasn’t the first time he’d sounded this way. The day she’d been shot at, his tone had been different, as well.

  “That’s not what I said, nor what I meant,” she replied. “I’m just wondering why you would give this to me. And why Landry would tell you what I was wearing. When did she tell you this? How did you have time to get this?”

  He, too, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Sam couldn’t help but watch the rise and fall of his muscled chest as he did so. “Can I just put it on you to see how it looks?” he asked.

  He did not wait for a response, instead taking the box from her hands and opening it once more. She watched his strong fingers remove the classically beautiful asymmetrical necklace from its base. Tossing the box over to the bed, he stepped around her, holding the necklace in front and then clasping it at the back, so that it now rested coolly against her skin.

  When he touched her shoulders and turned her slowly so that she was facing the mirror again, Sam’s breath caught. The necklace was gorgeous and so was he. Looking at them through the mirror, Sam could easily see another headline in the papers. There’d already been a few speculating as to when the loving couple would give Grand Serenity its second royal wedding of the year. She’d read about the rumors, and listened to newscasters trying to predict the same event, with a hint of humor. If they only knew the truth…

  Another part of her hadn’t found the duplicity funny. At some point they’d have to either come clean about their pretend affair or fake a breakup. Wait a minute, they were sleeping together now, so Sam wasn’t so sure how fake this affair actually was. Still, it wouldn’t last. It wasn’t meant to last or to mean anything, no matter how good they looked together.

  “You make it look so much more beautiful than it was in that box,” he told her, his hands resting on her shoulders now.

  “That’s not possible,” she replied and then hurriedly added, “But thank you. If my comments sounded ungrateful, I apologize.”

  He leaned down, dropping a quick kiss to the skin between her neck and shoulder.

  “You never have to apologize to me,” he whispered.

  Now she was shaking all over and those pesky tears still threatened to fall because, damn, this felt real. It felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. New and fresh. Exciting and intense. This couldn’t be fake. She knew she wasn’t that good of an actress to fake everything she was feeling at that moment. Especially since these feelings were foreign to her. Standing in her bedroom in this intimate yet seemingly innocent position was also different. It felt good, but it was not something she was used to.

  But could she get used to it?

  “Let’s go. You and the family should all be downstairs before the guests arrive,” Gary said. Letting his hands slide from her shoulders, he entwined his fingers with hers.

  Sam nodded.

  She slowly pulled her hands away from his and moved to her bed to grab her purse. Then, before heading to the door, she held out her arm, her hand extending to him.

  “Let’s go.”

  Gary accepted her hand and gave her a smile in return.

  Yes, Sam thought as they walked out of her room and down the hall toward the stairs, she could definitely get used to this.

  CHAPTER 13

  The island’s colors were navy blue, gold and white, so decorations of that color scheme flanked the marble hallways and door frames of the main foyer and throughout the length of the entire first floor of the palace. The staff was dressed in all white with a sash portraying the Grand Serenity flag across their bodies. There would be trays and trays of food offered throughout the first hour as guests entered and toured the property. During the second hour everyone would be moved to the seating area in the courtyard where forty tables had been set up with white, wicker chairs and royal-blue tablecloths.

  Views of Vivienne’s garden and the distinct aroma from the flowers planted there wafted into the courtyard, providing an added touch to the already brilliant scenery and ambience.

  Sam had just made it to the bottom of the grand staircase when Landry, Kris and Roland came to greet her and Gary.

  “This looks magnificent on you!” Landry exclaimed. “I knew this would be the perfect color!”

  “Yes, you did,” Sam told her with a knowing look. “And you shared that knowledge, as well.”

  “What…oh, yes, I did. Is this what you bought her to go with it?” she asked, stepping in to get a closer look at the necklace. “You’ve got great taste, Gary.”

  “Yeah, great taste, indeed,” Roland said, his look tight and discernible.

  “I’d like a word before the festivities begin,” Kris said seriously. “We can talk down the hall in the library. We only have about fifteen minutes before they open the doors, so that should be enough time.”

  Roland nodded to his brother. “You coming, Soldier Boy?” he asked Gary.

  Gary frowned but nodded to Roland and stepped away from Sam.

  “Stay with Landry until I come back for you,” he told Sam.

  “He’s right,” Kris added when he looked at Sam and she figured he could see she was about to argue. “Those two guards will be with you at all times tonight. Make sure you keep them in your sights. If at any moment you don’t see them, find a guard or call one of us. We’ll all have our cell phones on.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, can’t we just have one night without all this cloak-and-dagger stuff going on?” Malayka asked as she unexpectedly walked in on their conversation.

  “That depends,” Roland stated flatly.

  Malayka turned to him with a brilliant smile. “On what, might I ask?”

  She wore a gold dress that wrapped around her body like a second skin, hugging every curve tightly. Her hair was a cascade of curls over her right shoulder, her makeup was flawless, and the diamond choker, earrings and bracelet she wore were almost blinding. Flashy did not accurately describe how she looked.

  From all the reading and movie-watching she’d done as a teenager, Sam knew the look was best known as old Hollywood. Ever since Landry had married Kris, Malayka had refused to let her even so much as suggest a color for an outfit for her. Landry hadn’t been the least bit offended, because it was obvious that Malayka was bitter about her stylist becoming a prin
cess before her and within the same royal family.

  Roland continued with his question. “Tell us where your old friend Amari is hiding?”

  Malayka’s smile never faltered, even as she looped her arm between Rafe’s as he joined their little impromptu gathering.

  “I have no idea where Amari is. You fired him, remember?” She directed the question to Kris.

  “Why are we talking about this tonight?” Rafe interjected. “Malayka has had no contact with that lowlife since he was arrested. Now, we’ll all put on our happy faces and stop thinking and talking about whatever is going on around here. We are going to enjoy Founder’s Day and make sure that our guests enjoy it, as well.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Sam said after silence had engulfed the group.

  “Excuse me. What time should we open the doors, Your Highness?” one of the staff members asked.

  “Right now,” Malayka replied. “Let’s get this party started!”

  Landry looked at Sam. She wanted to frown, or roll her eyes, or do something to express that this woman was not ready to be anybody’s princess. But Sam glanced at her father and saw his furrowed brow and grim expression. Sam gave a nod to the staff member who hadn’t moved a muscle at Malayka’s reply. Only then did the older woman scuttle off to do as she was told.

  “We should be at the door to greet them, darling,” Malayka said to Rafe.

  He nodded stiffly in reply. “You’re right. We should. I expect the rest of you to greet everyone you can as you move throughout the palace. Smiles in place, assure our people that we are just fine,” he said. “Even if—”

  “We will, Dad,” Roland assured him. “We will.”

  When Rafe and Malayka walked away, Gary was the one to remind Roland and Kris about their need to talk.

  Kris nodded and kissed Landry on the cheek. “Stay with the guards.”

  She nodded and Sam gave Gary a tentative smile as if to say she would do the same without him feeling like he had to give her the order again.

  “Be good. Both of you,” Roland stated with a wink as he passed them.

  “Humph,” Sam said to Landry when the men were gone. “We’re not the ones that need that warning.”

  Landry shook her head and said a quick “I know that’s right” before a stream of guests began making their way down the hallway toward them.

  * * *

  “Amari hasn’t called her, but I did come across two emails that were suspect. I’m having someone trace the IP addresses now,” Gary told Kris and Roland as they stood amid over two hundred books shelved in a room with twenty-foot ceilings and top-to-bottom mahogany wood shelves.

  On any other day Gary would have loved to wander through this room perusing the massive book collection. But now was definitely not the time.

  “This guy is a piece of work. He sneaks into the palace, sets a bomb, gets caught, goes to jail and then escapes. Now, he’s sending emails like some pen pal. What did the emails say?” Roland asked.

  The prince hadn’t secured his bow tie and it hung around his neck haphazardly as he thrust his hands into the front pockets of his black tuxedo pants.

  Kris stood with one arm folded over his chest, the other held upward as he rubbed a finger over his chin.

  “It was pretty cryptic but two things stood out to me,” Gary said as he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out two pieces of paper.

  “Malayka had written ‘I haven’t found a new stylist yet. Need one ASAP.’ The reply was ‘Always here for you. Tell me when you need me to come.’

  “Malayka then wrote ‘In a couple of weeks. Too hectic right now.’ The reply was ‘I can make things better. You already know how. Just say the word.’”

  Gary paused, giving himself a break from the paper he was reading from.

  He then continued. “Next, Malayka wrote ‘It’s okay. I will maintain on my own.’ And the reply was ‘That’s not wise.’ Malayka then responded ‘It’s my decision.’ And the reply was a sad-face emoji.” Gary finished and looked up at the brothers.

  “And you think this is from Amari to Malayka?” Kris asked.

  Gary nodded. “Now, the first thing that stood out to me was that they talked about a new ‘stylist.’ Not a new hair stylist or fashion stylist. Just a ‘stylist,’” Gary noted.

  “Because they didn’t want to say hair stylist and risk tipping us off to who was corresponding with her,” Kris added.

  “Exactly,” Gary said.

  Roland replied, “In the beginning of the message Malayka complains that she has not been able to find a ‘stylist’ yet, but in the end, after he tells her that he can ‘make it better’ and that all she needs to do is ‘just say the word,’ she tells him she can ‘maintain on her own.’”

  “Yes,” Gary agreed, even though he didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

  There was tension between him and Roland. Gary had felt it from the first time he’d met the younger prince. He’d attempted to brush it off because Kris had been the one to hire him and thus Kris was the only one to whom he owed an explanation. But Roland was Samantha’s brother and Gary could only imagine how he would react if some arrogant foreigner had come along and inserted himself into his sister’s life the way Gary suspected it appeared he’d done with Samantha. Still, he wasn’t about to take much more of Roland’s attitude without setting the guy straight on a few things.

  “So once you get the IP address, you’ll trace it and then what?” Kris asked.

  “Then we’ll pay that person a little visit,” Roland stated in a tone that said that the next action should have been obvious.

  “Amari will come to us,” Gary said, a small part of him enjoying the moment Roland raised a brow to look at him.

  “How do you know that for sure?” the younger prince asked.

  “Because he’s too confident not to. This guy was able to sleep in this palace and still plan to have your father’s car run off a cliff, break in to the bank—something that we still can’t explain—and plant a bomb, which, if it were just a little more sophisticated, could have easily destroyed this entire dwelling and killed everyone in it.”

  “But he’s an amateur. We figured that out after the sorry-ass bomb was examined,” Roland commented.

  “He wants us to think he’s an amateur,” Kris said in a lethally low voice. “Is that what you’re getting at?”

  Gary nodded. “He wants to keep catching you off guard. That’s why he sent someone else to shoot at Sam.”

  Gary hadn’t told anyone about his findings. He’d admitted only to himself that the reason was that he wanted to get the bastard and shoot a few rounds at him personally before turning him over to the Grand Serenity police. Of course, by then it would be too late to consider any type of jail time.

  “You know who shot at her?” Roland asked. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I’m telling you now,” Gary stated slowly. “Remember I called you about the guy at the gate trying to get in?” He directed the question to Kris.

  “Yes. You said his name was Kendon Arnold,” Kris answered.

  Gary nodded. “Yes and that SUV was registered in his name. The day of the shooting that same SUV was parked at the bottom of the cliff two hours before we arrived for the tour. One of the guards mentioned that after my second round of questioning. He said he’d been searching the perimeter as he’d been instructed and he saw the SUV. He copied the tag number just in case it was still there when he circled around. It wasn’t.”

  Roland was not impressed. “Then how is it that you think this is the guy who shot at Sam?”

  “Because when the hotel room Kendon Arnold had checked out from later that evening was searched, we found the gun and more ammunition there.”

  “The idiot left his gun?” Kris
asked incredulously.

  “Again,” Gary told them, “they want us to believe they’re amateurs, which is why I’m telling both of you that this is not about killing anyone. It’s about stopping the royal wedding.”

  “What?” they asked in unison.

  “Think about this. The first attempt was intended for Rafe, but he wasn’t in the car at the time. But that road Igor was traveling back to the palace on was less than five miles from one of only two auto mechanics on this island. Meaning, help wasn’t far away from where the accident occurred.

  “The bomb was placed in the part of the ballroom where there was likely to be the least amount of people at any given time. It was far in the corner behind a wall of statues and artwork that nobody could get around and thus would not be standing near when the bomb went off.

  “And at the shooting, as I stated the day it happened, Malayka wasn’t standing a foot away from Samantha at the time. Why take that shot if you only wanted Sam dead? What if the shot was meant for Malayka? Or, better yet, what if the shooter was sent to remind Malayka that Amari knew how to make this all better?

  “Or, was each of these events meant as a stall tactic because of their timing?”

  Roland dragged both hands down the back of his closely shaved head, while Kris stared at something beyond Gary’s shoulders.

  “It’s just a hunch but…” Gary stated after having said all of his inner thoughts aloud for the first time.

  “You’ve been trained to trust your gut,” Kris said quietly. “Your whole job is centered on trusting your instincts and acting accordingly. That’s why I brought you here.”

  Gary nodded. After his evenings with Samantha he’d been returning to his room and writing in his notebook all his observations. The reports from the guards that he’d collected after the shooting were cataloged on his laptop. He reviewed them every day and late into the night hours while sitting with a beer.

  The prince and his young American fiancée; Kris and his American wife; Roland; and Samantha. How was this all connected? What was the endgame?