Protecting the Princess. Rachelle McCalla

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СКАЧАТЬ careful track of all my jewelry—that’s why I noticed things had been moved. But nothing was missing.”

       Kirk’s eyes returned to the road. They were catching up to the motorcade—just in time.

       Stasi tried to suppress the tremble in her voice. “Someone has been in my room before. Things have been moved. I spoke with Viktor Bosch directly.” As the head of the royal guard, Viktor had insisted on handling the incidents himself.

       Before Stasi could sort it out, Kirk shifted gears again as they paused at another stop sign. “We’re almost there.”

       Stasi took advantage of their position to crane her neck, looking to where the motorcade would be passing by.

       How strange.

       She placed a tentative hand on Kirk’s arm and pointed down the angular bend of road to where the motorcade sat.

       “They’re not moving. Why aren’t they moving?”

       Kirk’s warm hazel eyes met hers for just a second, and she saw sincere fear there.

       Something was terribly wrong. There were still several more blocks to go before the first limousine would reach the State House. And the royal motorcade never stopped until it reached its destination.

       An ear-piercing squeal rent the clear evening, and Stasi’s fingers tightened around Kirk’s arm instinctively. With a loud explosion, an orange ball of fire erupted above the front of the motorcade.

       Right where her parents’ car had paused.

       Though buildings blocked her sight of the spot, Anastasia had little doubt the massive fireball had erupted from the head limousine, or very close to it.

       “No.” Her lips trembled. “No. No.” She shook her head in disbelief.

       As though to reinforce the reality of the situation, another furious explosion rocked the earth, this time closer to the rear of the motorcade.

       But her brother, Prince Alexander, and her sister, Princess Isabelle, would be riding toward the rear of the motorcade.

       Right where the blast had struck.

       Another bright ball of fire seared the sky.

       Kirk punched the vehicle into gear and whipped the Jeep into a tight turn.

       “What are you doing? What’s going on?” Stasi couldn’t believe the horrific sight she’d just witnessed—was still witnessing, as another loud explosion rocked the city behind them.

       “Get down,” Kirk ordered.

       Stasi’s eyes widened as she looked at him. What was happening? Were Kirk’s actions related to the attack? He’d been linked to such a horrible crime before.

       “Down!” Kirk’s open palm pushed her head below the level of the dashboard.

       She grabbed his wrist and tore his arm away from her royal head. “No. I won’t do what you say.”

       Kirk stopped the Jeep with a jerk and glared at her. “Don’t fight me. Don’t you see? The royal family has been attacked. If anyone sees you, they’ll know you weren’t killed. I’ve got to get you out of here.”

       Stasi looked at him dumbly. Too many disturbing things had happened that day. “What do you mean? You think someone might try to kill me?”

       Throwing a glance in the direction of the motorcade, Kirk leaned close to her ear. His voice rumbled in low tones. “I’ve heard rumors.” Kirk was a sentinel in the royal guard. Stasi wondered if that was where the rumors he’d heard had originated. “I didn’t think there was any substance to it. Clearly I was wrong.”

       “Rumors of what? This attack?”

       Kirk’s hazel eyes closed as another blast rent the air. Pain struggled across his face. When he opened his eyes, his tone was patient, yet intense. “An insurgent uprising. A coup to overthrow your father’s government. Assassinating the royal family.”

       “My family?” Stasi could barely muster the words. She felt as though her breath had been stolen.

       “Please.” Kirk’s voice plunged to pleading depths. “You’ve got to stay down. Your life is in danger.”

       Stasi shrunk in her seat, but her eyes didn’t leave Kirk’s face. “What are you going to do with me?”

       “I’m going to hide you if I can.” He looked around at the empty streets. “But you’ve got to do what I say.”

       Numbly, Stasi nodded, hardly able to believe what she was agreeing to. But really, she had no choice. She’d have to trust the man who’d been accused of killing her brother.

       When Stasi all but disappeared into the pouf of her royal gown on the floor of his Jeep, Kirk tossed his canvas military duffel bag on top of her and prayed no one would stop them. The open Jeep offered little in the way of cover, and now that the loud explosions had ceased, the people who had rushed inside at the first sign of trouble began to peek curiously out of the buildings they passed.

       Kirk took back roads to the marina. The attack shocked him, but he’d always been a man of action. He’d find a way to get the princess to safety, then come back and ask questions. Besides, it was likely too soon for anyone to know why the attacks had happened or who was behind them.

       He slowed their vehicle as they approached the marina and found an out-of-the-way parking spot not far from the rocky cliffs. It was still a long trek to his sailboat, but that stage of the trip didn’t worry him nearly as much as what he was about to do.

       Killing the engine, Kirk leaned over and lifted the duffel bag just enough to allow him to see Stasi’s frightened blue eyes looking up at him.

       “We’re at the marina.” He laid out the bare facts of the situation. “There aren’t too many people around. I’m going to take you to my boat.”

       He watched indecision war across her face. Would she trust him? Given the accusations that had been made against him in the past, he knew she’d have every right not to trust him. But she also had no other alternative, and he’d have to have her cooperation if he was going to get her out of the city alive.

       And he had to get her out of the city. As a sentinel in the royal guard, he’d taken a vow to protect the royal family. There was no doubt in his mind that every minute she stayed in Sardis, her life was in greater danger.

       “How am I going to get to the boat without anyone seeing me?”

       Her question was an excellent one. With her golden-blond hair, inherited from her American mother, Princess Anastasia would easily stand out among the mostly darker-haired Lydians at the marina, especially since her dramatic curls were styled in an elaborate formal hairdo.

       He couldn’t risk letting anyone even suspect the princess was with him. He was certain her life would depend upon that.

       “I’ll carry you. You’ll fit in my duffel bag.” The enormous military-size bag was meant to carry everything a soldier needed during deployment. It was more than big СКАЧАТЬ